The Man in the Past

I've been married for eight years, but my husband won't let our daughter call him "Dad" because his childhood sweetheart's son struggles with severe depression.

After he missed our daughter's parent-teacher meeting again because he was with Susan Lawson and her son, I decided to leave. I prepare the divorce papers and decide to leave with my daughter.

I go to her school and find her homeroom teacher, Laura Anderson. "Ms. Anderson, I'd like to apply for a school transfer."

She looks surprised. "Why the sudden decision to transfer?"

I reply calmly, "Her dad has been working out of town, but he's finally settled down and wants us to move there."

Laura sighs. "Well, that's not bad. I always thought you were a single mom."

I smile.

I'm not, for now. But I'll be one very soon.

I had just stepped out of the office when I saw Harold Jefferson walking over with Susan Lawson and her son, Jacob Lawson.

Jacob seemed to have told a joke, as the three of them were laughing happily.

A sense of bitterness welled up in my chest, and I instinctively stopped in my tracks.

The moment Jacob saw me, his expression changed. He quickly hid behind Harold.

Instantly, Harold adopted a defensive stance with an icy glare as he asked accusingly, "What are you doing here?"

Harold was clearly the father of my daughter, Yvette Jefferson. Yet, he stood there protecting someone else's child.

I dug my nails into my palm. The last shred of attachment in my heart vanished.

Lowering my eyes, I replied calmly, "Yvette attends this school as well. Am I not allowed to come speak with her homeroom teacher?"

Susan smiled. "What a coincidence. We're also here to see Ms. Anderson. Jacob has a sensitive stomach, and Harold's concerned that the school's milk might be of low quality for the kids. So he just invested in a dairy factory. It's clean and safe, so parents can feel at ease."

I pretended not to notice the provocation in Susan's eyes, but there was a bitter taste in my throat that I couldn't swallow.

Yvette was born with multiple allergies, making the school cafeteria's diverse meal options a constant challenge for her.

Feeling concerned, I decided to contact the teacher several times, only to be reprimanded by Harold. "Teachers already have a tough job. Why are you bothering them so much?"

He wouldn't let me talk to the teachers, so all I could do was remind Yvette again and again to be extra careful.

However, she was just a child. There were bound to be slip-ups. Seeing Yvette's arms covered in rashes broke my heart.

It wasn't until I started waking up early to prepare her school lunches that her condition began to improve.

I once thought Harold was loyal to his principles, as he avoided using his connections to pull strings. But Susan's words hit me hard.

So, it turned out he wasn't against using his connections. He just refused to use them for me and Yvette.

I swallowed the words about transferring Yvette to another school and simply said, "Oh? Well, congratulations."

With that, I turned to leave.

When I returned to the classroom, Yvette had finished packing and was waiting patiently at the door for me. The moment she saw me, her eyes lit up. She ran over excitedly and held out her report card.

"Mommy! I just saw Daddy. Is he here to attend the parent-teacher meeting for me? Look! My result is the best for every subject. Even Ms. Anderson said I'm amazing."

As I looked at her outstanding results on the report card, my vision blurred. I ruffled her hair, then took out my phone and called Harold.

However, no one answered. I called several more times before the line finally connected.

"Hello. What is it?" His voice was cold and distant.

With Yvette's hopeful eyes on me, I said, "Yvette ranked first in the midterm exams. She hopes you can come to the parent-teacher meeting."

There was a pause on the other end. Then, Harold finally agreed. "Alright. Got it."

With that, he hung up in a hurry.

But I didn't mind at all. I was simply overjoyed. I crouched down and shared the good news with Yvette.

"Your dad said yes. He's coming to the parent-teacher meeting for you."

"Really?"

She was really happy, her face lighting up with a big smile. She ran back into the classroom and started wiping her desk and chair, again and again.

After that, she turned to me and asked, "Mommy, can I borrow your phone for a second?"

I handed it to her, feeling a little puzzled. "What do you need it for?"

She took a couple of photos of her seat, then looked up at me seriously. "I'm afraid Daddy might not find my spot. If I send him pictures, he won't get confused."