Life as a single mom was never easy. Then I met Rowan. I thought I’d finally found real love.
I was dead wrong. He didn’t just lie, he hurt the one person who meant my world: My daughter. I’m Matilda, a mother who trusted the wrong man with everything I had.
The rain drummed against my office window as I finished the quarterly reports. Another late night at Morrison & Associates. But the thought of seeing my daughter, Ivy, uplifted my spirits as I gathered my things.
She was home from college for the week, and my husband, Rowan, would be there too. I’d raised Ivy alone since she was five, after her father decided his secretary was more appealing than his family. Fourteen years of scraped knees, school plays, and midnight conversations about boys who didn’t deserve her.
She was 19 now. Brilliant, fierce, and protective of me in ways that both touched and worried me. Then Rowan entered our lives 18 months ago.
He was charming and attentive, with silver threading through his dark hair and eyes that seemed to see straight through my soul. He fixed the leaky faucet I’d been meaning to call a plumber about. He remembered I liked my coffee with two sugars and a splash of cream.
He made me laugh for the first time in years. “You deserve this happiness, Mom,” Ivy said when I told her about Rowan. But as days passed, I caught the hesitation in her voice and the way she studied him when she thought no one was looking.
“There’s something off about him,” she mentioned one evening. “He watches people like he’s solving a puzzle.”
I dismissed it. After years of being alone, being the only one making decisions, and carrying all the weight… I wanted this.
I needed Rowan. For us. ***
The house was dark when I pulled into the driveway.
Strange. Usually, Ivy would be curled up in the living room with a book, the lamp casting a warm glow through the window. “Ivy?
Honey, I’m home!” I called out, dropping my purse by the living room door. “Rowan?”
Only silence answered me. Rowan emerged from the kitchen, a dish towel in hand.
He was wearing that easy smile that had first drawn me to him. “Hey, beautiful. How was work?”
“Long.
Where’s Ivy? Her car’s not in the driveway.”
“She left.”
“Left? What do you mean, left?”
He sighed, leaning against the doorframe.
“Look, Matty, I didn’t want to worry you while you were at work. She packed her things and took off around noon. Said she needed space.”
My heart started pounding.
“Space from what? Did you two have a fight?”
“Not a fight, exactly.” He moved closer, placing his hands on my shoulders. “She’s been… difficult lately.
Hostile. I think she resents me being here… resents us being happy.”
“That doesn’t sound like Ivy.”
“Oh? She’s been undermining us since the moment she got home.
Little comments, eye rolls… making you question everything about our marriage.”
“Rowan, she’s just…”
“She’s 19, Matilda. She’s not a child anymore. Maybe it’s time she learned to stand on her own two feet instead of running back to mommy every time life gets tough.”
The coldness in his voice made me step back.
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