I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
“There is no us.”
His face fell.
“Claire.”
“You still don’t understand.”
“I’m trying.”
“No. You’re trying to fix the part that hurts you.”
He said nothing.
I continued.
“You lost Vanessa.”
He flinched.
“You’re losing money.”
His jaw tightened.
“And now you’re standing here because the life you chose collapsed.”
I stepped slightly closer to the doorway.
“But Sophie and I were already gone before any of that happened.”
Derek swallowed.
“I want to see her.”
“That will be handled through Daniel and the proper process.”
“I’m her father.”
“Yes.”
I held his gaze.
“That title comes with responsibilities.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“From this point on, contact goes through me.”
Derek looked at him.
Then back at me.
Finally, he nodded.
He returned to his car alone.
I watched until his taillights disappeared.
Then I closed the door.
—
The divorce lasted seven months.
It was ugly.
Not because my brothers destroyed Derek.
They didn’t.
Daniel handled the legal work.
Marcus helped organize the financial records.
Ethan preserved the video.
Noah helped renovate a small rental near Sophie’s school.
Luke picked her up twice a week after I returned to work.
That was their role.
They didn’t ruin Derek’s life.
They simply made sure he could no longer control mine.
Financial discovery revealed exactly how much Derek had spent on Vanessa.
Eighty-six thousand dollars from marital accounts.
Another eighteen thousand on the apartment.
Several thousand more on travel and gifts.
Then came the house.
Derek always assumed he would keep it.
He told Daniel as much during mediation.
“I’m not selling my house.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Then you’ll need to buy Claire out.”
Derek laughed.
“With what?”
That became the problem.
Years earlier, I had contributed one hundred eighty thousand dollars from an inheritance from my mother toward the down payment.
It was documented.
The equity was substantial.
And after Derek’s spending, his savings weren’t.
He applied to refinance the mortgage alone.
He was denied.
He tried another lender.
Denied again.
By the fifth month of the divorce, the house went on the market.
I didn’t celebrate.
I didn’t want the house.
Too many rooms carried memories I wanted Sophie to forget.
Two weeks before closing, I returned for the last box from her old bedroom.
Derek sat alone in the living room.
Most of the furniture was gone.
Cardboard boxes lined the walls.
A FOR SALE sign stood beyond the front window.
He looked older.
Not dramatically.
Just tired.
Human.
I went upstairs, packed Sophie’s remaining books and photographs, and came back down.
Derek hadn’t moved.
When I reached the door, he spoke.
“I lost everything because of her.”
I stopped.
Then turned around.
“No.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“You didn’t lose everything because of Vanessa.”
His expression hardened.
“She lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“She took my money.”
“Yes.”
“She used me.”
“Yes.”
His voice rose.
“Then what do you call that?”
I held the box against my chest.
“I call that what Vanessa did to you.”
He stared at me.
“What happened to us was what you did.”
Silence.
“You lost me when you chose your affair over your marriage.”
He looked down.
“You lost Sophie’s trust when she begged you to believe her and you didn’t.”
His face tightened.
