Chapter 3

The next morning, Grayson came home carrying a plastic takeout container.

A thick, fishy smell drifted over, and my stomach lurched.

"This place makes a good seafood chowder. Sophie couldn't finish it, she doesn't eat much."

"I figured it was a waste to throw out, so I brought it back for you to try."

"Seafood chowder isn't cheap. By rights you should pay Sophie for half of it."

"But she's always been kind and generous, so let's just call it the rent for the pet room."

I couldn't hold back a cold laugh and pushed that half-bowl of leftover chowder back toward him.

"Grayson, how much does it cost to rent a one-bedroom on the market?"

He blanked for a second, then caught my meaning and flushed with anger.

"Aria, it's the thought that counts. When did you get so obsessed with money?"

"Isn't this what you taught me?"

When I had acute appendicitis and was bedridden for two weeks recovering.

He calculated the extra water, power, and gas I used, said I'd run the AC too much at home.

"Is there any point dragging up old accounts like this? Are we even going to live like a couple?"

I lifted my eyes, my gaze calm and still.

"The crib, fifty-eight hundred. The thermostatic sterilizer, thirty-six hundred. The pure cotton bedding, twelve hundred."

"Clothes and toys, two thousand. The room renovation, ten thousand. Twenty-two thousand six hundred in total. You pay it in full."

Grayson stared at me, full of disappointment.

"Aria, you get colder and more heartless by the day. The old you was gentle and sensible. You never kept score."

"When I didn't keep score, you wanted every last thing counted clean. Now I go by your rules, and suddenly I'm cold and heartless?"

"Grayson, why do your principles only ever apply to me?"

He had nothing to say. He pulled out a stack of bills and flung them scattering over me.

"Fine, I'll give you this bit of money. But remember, you're the one who forced us apart."

"When the baby's born, he'll be ashamed to have a mother who nickel-and-dimes everything."

Something in my chest ached.

Even now, he still didn't believe the baby was gone.

I thought of the memorial tablet I'd set up at the temple for the child who was never born, and I softened my tone.

"Grayson, are you free tomorrow? I need to take you somewhere."

He was still riled up, and his face puffed with resentment.

"Is my time worth nothing?"

"You want me to go with you, fine. Pay me by the hour."

I pushed down the bitterness and the resentment inside me.

"All right. Whatever your hourly rate is, I'll pay it."

"Fifteen hundred an hour."

I picked up my phone and transferred him forty-five hundred. "Tomorrow I'll take up three hours of your time. Here's the payment up front."

Buying the baby one last chance to see its father.

The words had barely left my mouth when his phone rang.

"Grayson, Mochi's got a bit of diarrhea, I'm so scared."

Grayson couldn't be bothered to argue with me anymore. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

"I need to go check on Sophie's dog. This can wait till later."

I stubbornly caught his sleeve.

"You just promised me. Nine tomorrow morning, you're with me."

"Grayson, it's the last time."

It was the last time I would ever beg him like this, small and pleading.

Begging him to do a father's duty just once, to say a proper goodbye to the baby.

Grayson knit his brows, his whole face impatient.

"Can you stop making a scene? What if something happens to Mochi?"

"Can't that little mess of yours wait a bit?"

He shoved my hand away, his voice cold and final.

"Aria, I don't have time for your dramatics."

With that, he pushed the door open and strode off.

I stood there, everything inside me gone dead and quiet.

I turned and gathered my things, then set the signed divorce agreement on the desk in his study.

After tomorrow, we'd go our separate ways, free of each other.