Chapter 4

I took Mia and headed straight to Aunt Freya’s place in Pineville, the address still burned into my memory.

We hadn’t seen each other in almost twenty years. The second she saw me, her eyes welled up.

I gave her the short version of everything I’d been through. She grabbed my hand, barely holding it together.

“Carmen, you’re really going through with the divorce? What about the gossip? You’ve got a kid this could ruin your life.”

“I don’t care anymore. Let them talk. Times have changed. I just… I don’t know how any of this works. Please help me.”

Right then, there was a knock at the door. A tall guy walked in, all charm and that easy, warm smile.

“Philip, come here,” Aunt Freya said. “This is Carmen-my brother’s daughter. I wanted to adopt her back then, but he sold her to the Zieglers instead. So I raised you.”

“Carmen, You’re in luck,” she added. “My son’s in law. He’s got this.”

That night, I went home and dropped the divorce papers Philip had put together right in front of Joshua.

He just stared. “You’re insane! I’m not signing this!”

I didn’t even look at him. Just slid the papers back his way.

“I don’t want anything. Just my stuff and Mia. Sign it. It’s better for both of us.”

“Carmen, seriously? I’ve told you-me and Linda, we’re just teacher and student. That’s it. She’s my mentor’s kid. I’m just helping her out. You really wanna blow up our marriage over this?”

I let out a cold laugh and couldn’t hold back anymore.

“If she’s just a student, then why were her clothes on your bed the day I got to Pineville?

“I might be from a small town, but I’m not stupid. I made it through middle school. I’ve never heard of a teacher letting a student crash in his bed.

“Even little kids know boys and girls aren’t supposed to get that close. But she’s twenty and doesn’t?

“And now she’s your mentor’s daughter, and I’m supposed to treat her the way you do?

“Fine. I went along with it. Cooked for her. Did her laundry. Played the good wife. And what did I get? You two parading your mess right in front of me.

“Joshua, I don’t owe you anything. I was sold to your family when I was eight. Couldn’t even reach the counter, and I was already cooking, cleaning-doing everything.

“When your dad was stuck in bed for three years, I cleaned up after him, fed him, looked after him until he died. Never complained.

“Before you even graduated college, I paid every bill. Worked nonstop, busted my hands doing random jobs while you sat back like it was nothing.

“I kept telling myself it’d get better once you finished school. That was the only thing keeping me going for Mia.

“And now? What have you ever done for me? For her? Name one thing.”

It all came pouring out-everything I’d held in for years.