Don't Come Home

Behind me, Aiden burst out in the darkness, his voice sharp with rage, "Why are you bringing her up? I came back! We've already paid the price for what we did! You got everything you wanted! Lily Chapman, what more do you want?"

I didn't want anything.

I just couldn't hold it in. I felt wronged and wanted to rip apart the thin veneer of pretense covering my life.

Aiden and I were college classmates. We met during an event on campus, fell in love, got married two years after graduation, and had our daughter, Chloe Spencer, the following year.

Everything happened naturally, one step following the next.

I was outgoing, full of energy, and always smiling. I loved being around people.

Aiden was more reserved. He was an expert in his field with top-tier research skills, but his lack of social aptitude held back his career.

I felt he was wasting his talent, so I put my networking skills to use. Through my boss, I got to know Elijah Holmes, one of the key directors at his research institute.

During that time, I woke up early every morning to bake desserts and traveled halfway across the city to deliver them to Mr. Holmes' mother, who had a sweet tooth.

Aiden felt nothing but disdain for what I was doing.

"My skills speak for themselves. Why should I lower myself to this kind of petty flattery? What if it all comes to nothing? I'd end up making a fool of myself!"

I treaded carefully around his pride and sincerely admitted that perhaps I was too impulsive.

Then, I smiled and said, "Even if it doesn't work out, it's no big deal. Consider it an act of kindness toward an elderly lady. Plus, getting to know someone like Mr. Holmes could benefit my own career, too."

Mr. Holmes admired my persistence. That, combined with Aiden's undeniable talent, convinced him to personally endorse Aiden for a crucial promotion. After five stagnant years at the institute, Aiden finally got the career advancement he deserved.

His salary and bonuses skyrocketed, but with research and management responsibilities on his plate, work became increasingly demanding.

Meanwhile, no one was home to take care of Chloe, who was at a critical stage in her development.

After discussing it thoroughly, we decided that I would step down from my main position at work and take on a more flexible role, giving me more time to focus on our family and fully support his career.

I always thought of myself as lucky.

When I picked Chloe up from preschool, the moms would gather to chat. They all agreed that our family was the perfect modern-day example of happiness.

My case was the epitome of the perfect college love story. I had a husband with a thriving career and a lively, adorable daughter, and I also had a flexible job. I felt happy and fulfilled.

Every now and then, I would see my former colleagues, who were once my subordinates, get promoted and earn raises. I would feel a fleeting sense of wistfulness.

However, I reminded myself that marriage was an economic and emotional partnership. Sure, I gave up some things, but it was the best decision for the sake of my family.

That was enough.

The first time I saw the name "Skyla Thompson" was on a research report lying on Aiden's desk. Two names were signed at the bottom—Aiden's and Skyla's.

I handed Aiden a freshly brewed cup of herbal tea and joked, "Your names go surprisingly well together. Just looking at them, I can already picture some kind of dramatic, tragic story."

Back then, I was still living under the illusion of a perfect life.

I didn't notice the fleeting softness in his gaze when his eyes landed on Skyla's name.

"She's an unmarried colleague. Don't joke about that."

His eyes lowered as he slid the report away, his voice calm but laced with warning.