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