Past the Crossroads of No Return

In the end, Naomi gave that drawing to Luther. She even said, "In my heart, Mr. Lloyd will forever be the daddy I love most!"

As Willow walked past me, her voice was cold. "Do whatever you want with the soup."

Normally, knowing she had made it herself, I would've forced myself to eat it, no matter what. This time, however, I poured them straight down the sink.

I also sent a message to my lawyer, telling him to include a clause that I would voluntarily give up custody of Naomi.

For the next two days, Willow and Naomi didn't come home. I knew what they had been doing exactly because everything I had to know was on Willow's Instagram.

In one post, Naomi sat on Luther's shoulders, grinning and holding up a cotton candy. Willow stood nearby, looking at them with a happy smile. The caption read, "Our simple happiness."

At a bistro, Willow fed Luther a bite of cut steak, smiling the whole time.

More glaring photos like these flashed past my eyes. I said nothing and simply hit "like".

Suddenly, Naomi's homeroom teacher called, saying no one was coming to the parent-teacher meeting. I thought, since it was the last one, I might as well go.

When I arrived, Naomi was showing off to a group of kids. "My daddy treats me like a princess. He's the best daddy in the whole wide world!"

My chest tightened for a moment. A tiny warmth sparked inside me. I smiled and called out, "Naomi."

To my surprise, she suddenly screamed and shoved me away. "Who told you to come?"

The other kids started whispering. A girl even pointed at me and asked, "Naomi, isn't this your dad?"

"No, he's not!" Naomi replied aggressively, grabbing a crayon from the table and throwing it at me. "My daddy is a million times better than him! Now, go, you bad guy!"

In that instant, it hit me. She hadn't been talking about me, but Luther.

A bitter laugh slipped out as I lowered my head, just in time to see Willow and Luther approaching arm in arm for the doorway.

Instantly, Naomi's face lit up. She ran straight into his arms, pride glowing in her eyes.

"See him? This is my real daddy!"

Meanwhile, Willow pulled me aside, frowning impatiently. "What are you doing here? Naomi's at that age where she cares a lot about appearances. Go home and don't embarrass her!"

For once, I pushed back. "I'm her father."

She snorted in my face. "Father? Look at you, and look at Luther. He's a well-known artist, while you're just some insignificant corporate worker. You might not feel embarrassed, but I do."

I was stunned for a moment.

Over the past few years, the company had hinted at promoting me, but I had always turned it down because I was worried I couldn't take care of my family. Now, somehow, that was being used as a reason to look down on me.

Luther stepped forward with a smile, wrapping an arm around Willow's waist. His eyes flicked to me, as if challenging me.

"Come on, Willow, don't be too harsh," he said. "Maybe Skyler is just trying to do right by Naomi. Of course, sometimes, it's better to step down. Naomi just joked about wanting me to adopt her."

Then came another pointed look from him.

Naomi quickly tugged on Willow's sleeve, her excitement bubbling over. "Yes, please! Mommy, I want Mr. Lloyd to be my daddy! Please let him adopt me! That way, I can finally call him 'Daddy' openly!"

I caught the victorious gleam in Luther's eyes and couldn't help but remember last week.

Naomi had been pestering me about wanting to learn to draw. I had run down three blocks late at night to buy her imported crayons. In the end, she had proudly given the drawing to Luther instead.

I hung my head, shaking it lightly, and walked past them. It didn't matter anymore. I wasn't going to fight for custody, anyway. From now on, she could call whoever she wanted "Daddy" for all I cared.

Luther, however, suddenly stepped forward and blocked my way.

Luther's lips turned downward, as if he were apologetic. "Skyler, are you upset with me? I'm sorry. I know I caused all of this."

As he stepped closer, however, his voice dropped to a volume that only I could hear. His words turned vicious. "Do you know why Willow got drunk five years ago and let you have your way?"

A cruel smile curled at his lips. "It was because I told her I wanted a baby. I didn't expect her to down half a bottle of red wine right away, only to stumble into the arms of the wrong man.

"When she came to me pregnant with your child, she was sobbing, said she couldn't let the kid be born without a father."

He brushed imaginary dust off his sleeve, his movement elegant yet humiliating. "I pitied her, so I let her keep the baby. Otherwise, what made you think someone like you was ever worthy of being with her?"

I stared at Luther's mocking smile.

So, the child I had longed for and cherished had been nothing more than an accident, a mistake. No wonder Willow had been oddly passionate that night. She had simply mistaken me for someone else.

Fury and humiliation finally churned inside me. My hand came down hard across his face. "You son of a bitch!"

Behind me, Willow screamed at the turn of events and didn't hesitate to slap me in return. "What do you think you're doing, Skyler?"

She rushed to help Luther up, her face full of pity. Naomi also started hitting me, as if trying to get revenge for her beloved daddy.

I looked at Luther again. That same mocking smile still lingered at the corner of his lips. For a fleeting moment, I realized Willow might not have been so different from me.

I had spent six years longing for her love, while she had relentlessly chased after him, unaware that he saw her only as a disposable plaything.

I covered my face and closed my eyes. From my bag, I pulled out the divorce papers. My voice was terrifyingly calm. "Just sign it. I don't want custody of Naomi."

Willow froze, clearly not expecting me to drop such a bomb.

I slammed the papers onto a nearby desk. "It's been six years. I'm tired. You can do whatever you want, be with whoever you want, and let Naomi call whoever she wants 'Daddy.' I don't care anymore."

Before she could respond, Luther, behind her, covered his face. Tears welled pitifully at the corners of his eyes. "I'm fine, Willow. It's okay. Just don't ruin your relationship for me."

Her eyes fell on his swollen face. As if fueled by determination, she snatched up the divorce papers. "Oh, I'll sign! You'd better not regret this, Skyler Johnson!"

With that, she tossed the signed papers aside and hurriedly helped Luther out the door.

Her eyes were full of endless worry, just like back then.

When Naomi was three and had a febrile seizure in the middle of the night, I ran down the emergency room hallway with Naomi in my arms. Meanwhile, Willow had said over the phone, "Luther's stomach isn't feeling well. I can't leave."

"Mr. Lloyd, look! I drew our family!" Naomi suddenly chirped, running ahead to show a crayon drawing. On the paper were three little figures holding hands, devoid of my existence.

I stood in place, my fingertips suddenly tingling.

Last winter, when Naomi was hospitalized with the flu—feverish and delirious, repeatedly calling out for me—I stayed with her for three whole days, rubbing her palms and soles with a warm towel.

When the nurse came to change her IV, she had said, "Your dedication as a dad is remarkable, Mr. Johnson."

Back then, Naomi had held my finger tightly and whispered, "Don't leave me, Daddy."

I looked away, trying to hide my emotions.

Bending down, I picked up the divorce agreement and let my fingers brush over Willow's messy signature. For a moment, the ink felt like the six years we had shared—careless, ruthless, and pointless.

Without looking back, I turned and boarded my international flight.