After a long tail, Irene had finally arrived in front of her house. Brian parked the car two houses away and watched her. Even though he now knew where Irene was, he wasn't sure if Theo was staying with her. He glanced behind to check on Love, and when he saw she was still asleep, he quietly got out of the car. He put on his cap and began walking toward Irene's house.
He circled the house once, trying to peek through the windows. It was a detached, typical middle-class American home. Irene was alone inside, on the phone, speaking quite heatedly. Brian rang the doorbell. As soon as Irene opened the door, he forced a smile and said,
"Hello you, it's me again. Remember?"
Then pushed his way in.
"Get out! I'll call the police! Get out!" Irene backed away step by step. It was obvious she was afraid of him.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. There's nothing to be afraid of. Let's just sit and talk."
"What do you want from me? From my son, huh? Get the hell out of my house!"
"Irene!" Brian suddenly raised his voice.
"I don't want anything from you or your pathetic son. He had a girlfriend in high school, remember? They dated for years."
"What? What does that have to do with anything? What are you trying to say?"
"Michelle Flores. That's her name. I'm her husband. And that baby you saw at the hotel? She's our daughter."
"And what does that mean exactly?" Irene asked, clearly tense and surprised to hear Michelle's name.
"It means my wife left me two days ago. She left this note behind," Brian said, calmly pulling the note from his back pocket and handing it to Irene.
"Read it. You'll understand what I mean."
Irene took the note and began reading it silently.
"Out loud," Brian insisted.
Irene cleared her throat and began reading aloud:
"Brian, I'm so sorry. I never wanted it to end up like this, but I'm beginning to understand that maybe this is how it's supposed to be. I know you talked to my mom, and yes, you were right. I've been distant. Because the feelings inside me are slowly dying, and I don't get excited anymore.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about Theo since the day he came to the wedding. I know we have a family now. We're married, and we even have a beautiful 7-month-old daughter. But I can't stop myself anymore.
But no matter what I do, just like with my mom, I want to live my life not for others—but for myself. I know that Love and you aren't just anyone, you're my everything. But I have to go. I love you both very much."
"This is fucking nonsense," Irene said coldly, then muttered under her breath, "Fucking note, what a joke."
"Do you understand now?" Brian asked. "I think she ran off with your son, and I need to know. It's my right. Please help me."
"I haven't spoken to my son in years," Irene replied.
"Irene! I'm begging you. Please."
"I really haven't spoken to him in years."
"Irene, I'm asking you one last time—politely."
"I told you I don't know anything! Get out of my house!" she screamed.
Brian turned toward the door as if to leave, but suddenly stopped. He quickly turned back and stepped toward Irene, grabbing both her arms and pinning her against the wall.
"I asked you nicely. I pleaded with you. You lied to me, and even though I'm clearly in a shitty situation, you still refused to help. But don't worry, Irene… I won't take it out on you. I'll take it out on your son."
Then he let go of her arms, stepped back slowly while keeping eye contact, turned around and said,
"See you later, Irene."
He rushed to the car and drove off before Irene could see the license plate. Love was still asleep. That gave Brian a sense of relief, but he had no clue how he was going to find Theo.
Once he got to a safe area, he pulled over to catch his breath. It was already 2 a.m., and he had to be at the construction site by 8. Including a six-hour flight, he needed to catch a plane by 6 a.m. at the latest just to get a bit of sleep before work. That left him with four hours.
Four hours… in a city with 8.5 million people, and he had to find just one woman.
It was like finding a needle in a haystack.
The odds were nearly impossible.
But Brian was determined. He had to find his wife and get her away from Theo.
Just as he was lost in thought, his phone rang.
When he pulled it out of his pocket, the caller ID said: Theo.
"Where the fuck is Michelle, you piece of shit?!" Brian yelled the second he answered.
"Whoa, whoa, calm the fuck down, will you?" Theo's voice sounded furious too. And kept saying;
"Oh, so now you're mad? What kind of bastard follows a woman around and break into her house ? If I called the cops, what would you even do?"
"Huh, let me think," Brian said mockingly. "Maybe remind them how your mom invited me to the hotel wearing nothing but a thong? So you're surprised I followed her back home? Really?"
"You fucking son of a bitch! What do you want from me? From us?!" Theo was shouting now, almost like he was punching a wall as he spoke.
In the background, Brian could hear a woman's voice say,
"Calm down, you're going to break your hand."
"Michelle… Michelle's there, isn't she?" Brian asked, suddenly breathless.
There was no answer.
"You son of a bitch! You kidnapped my wife, huh? You fucking bastard—TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU ARE!"
Brian's shout was so loud it startled Love awake.
She burst into tears, crying at the top of her lungs.
Still with the phone pressed to his ear, Brian turned around in panic.
"Don't cry, sweetheart. Daddy's here. Don't cry, baby."
Theo laughed on the other end of the line.
"You can't even calm down your crying baby, and you think you're gonna find your wife? You know, Brian…
If Michelle had married me, she wouldn't have run away.
She would've never needed to.
Because I do know how to satisfy my woman."
Click. Theo hung up.
"Don't cry, Love. Please, baby girl. Don't cry, okay? Daddy's here."
But the crying only got worse. Brian's patience was gone.
"LOVE, STOP CRYING! WHY ARE YOU CRYING?! YOUR STOMACH'S FULL, YOUR DIAPER'S CLEAN, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!"
Brian had just screamed at Love for the first time. And not just a little—he'd snapped.
She was terrified. Her crying intensified.
Brian froze, realization hitting him like a truck.
"…Shit. What am I doing?"
He quickly jumped out of the car, rushed to the back seat, and scooped her into his arms.
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I never wanted to hurt you."
He began crying as he sat down next to the car with Love in his arms, resting his back against the closed door.
It was as if all the pain from the last year, all the frustration, had finally broken through.
Love had stopped crying. She stared at her father in silence, confused by the tears running down his cheeks.
She gently reached out and touched his mouth. She didn't understand what tears were…
But she knew something was wrong.
They sat there in silence. Brian cried. Love just watched him.
He picked up his luggage and returned to the hotel, but his hope was gone. He packed his belongings and checked out. Then he drove the rental car back and handed it over to the man. Just as he was about to call a cab, a notification popped up on Michelle's old phone. When he looked, it said: "iCloud Active."
He opened it, and there it was—the location.
Times Square.
Brian was stunned. Her location had been off for two days—how or why had it suddenly been turned back on? Was this a trap? Was Theo setting him up? But he had no intention of leaving without finding out.
"Give me the car back, man. I need to go," he said.
"You already returned it. I can't," the man replied.
"Man, here's twenty bucks. I'll bring it back by the end of the day."
"Hundred dollars, bro. I need the full price," the guy said firmly.
Brian was pissed, but he couldn't argue. He shouldn't. His wife was only a twenty-minute drive away.
When he arrived at Times Square, he was carrying Love in a front kangaroo pouch and found himself suddenly swallowed by a sea of people.
Though Los Angeles wasn't a quiet city either, he rarely found himself in crowds like this.
But now, the place was packed. Bodies brushing past each other, advertisements flashing across skyscraper screens. It was overwhelming.
He looked around carefully, scanning every face.
He adjusted his cap, pulling it lower over his eyes, and started moving through the crowd.
He quickened his pace.
He had Love strapped to him, but that didn't slow him down.
All around him, the city screamed with sound and light. But Brian's world had narrowed down to one mission:
Find Michelle.
He looked at everyone. Every couple. Every woman with dark hair.
But Michelle wasn't there. Neither was Theo.
Frustration grew in his chest.
He pulled out the phone again, checking the location.
It showed he was exactly at the right spot.
Love, meanwhile, was fixated on the giant screens flashing above.
The bright visuals and dancing colors held her attention.
She stuck her finger in her mouth and started looking around curiously.
Suddenly… she stopped.
Her eyes locked on something.
She didn't blink.
She simply pointed.
He was standing right in the middle of Times Square, wearing his cap, with Love in the baby pouch strapped to his chest. Just standing there. Not walking. Not rushing. Just… standing.
Brian looked up and followed her gaze — and then he saw them.
Theo and Michelle.
Theo was sipping coffee. Michelle sat across from him.
She wasn't even looking at Theo.
She was looking straight at Brian.
Their eyes met.
Love had recognized her mother instantly. She stared, eyes locked.
Michelle looked back at them, her face filled with shame.
Brian stood frozen.
Michelle didn't move. Neither did he.
Theo hadn't noticed a thing. He was still checking his phone.
Then Brian suddenly turned around and began to walk away.
The very thing he had feared these last two days had come true.
Michelle had really left him and their daughter… for Theo.
He cursed silently, trying to make sense of everything.
As he walked, the crowd felt suffocating.
Everyone looked like they were staring at him.
His head was spinning. He felt like he might collapse.
Then he heard it:
"BRIAN… WAIT!"
He turned. Michelle was running toward him, breathless.
She stopped in front of him, gasping.
"Brian… I don't even know what to say. I'm so sorry," she said. Her eyes were full of tears. She looked genuinely ashamed.
"Look, I really couldn't take it anymore. I'm so sorry. But I can't live without Theo. I love him. I love you and Love too, but…"
Brian cut her off.
"You love us too? That's sweet. Thanks."
His voice was flat. Emotionless.
No shouting, no anger — just quiet devastation.
"Please… just listen to me," Michelle said.
"I know you're angry. I know you're hurt. But I had to do it.
This guy… he's my fate. My life. I can't live without him.
And I didn't know how else to tell you, so I left that note."
Brian asked, still in that same calm tone,
"Was it worth it? Leaving your daughter?"
"I didn't leave anyone," Michelle said. "I still have the right to see my daughter.
In fact, they might even give me custody."
"W-what do you mean?" Brian stuttered.
"Brian, I… I…"
She hesitated.
But Brian already knew what was coming.
He hoped she wouldn't say it.
"I wanna divorce."
When he woke up in the morning, it felt like he'd been hit by a truck.
He hadn't gotten much sleep last night — waking up over and over again to Love's crying had drained him. His body was exhausted, his mind even more so.
He got up and made himself some coffee. Lit a cigarette.
Love was still asleep.
He took a drag and stared blankly out the glass door, into the street. His mind was empty. His soul, even emptier.
He tapped the ash into the tray, then brought the cigarette back to his lips.
With both hands, he reached down to plug in the coffee machine.
But in his foggy state, he did it wrong and cracked the plug. A small shock zapped through his fingers.
He snapped.
"FUCK," he muttered, then suddenly hurled the coffee machine across the room.
Then stormed over, picked it up again, and slammed it repeatedly into the wall and the floor.
As if the person who had cheated on him — the one who had abandoned him — was not Michelle,
but this goddamn coffee maker.
⸻
He had 30 minutes left before he had to leave for work.
His parents were still vacationing in Turkey, so he had no one to leave Love with.
He couldn't take her to Vivian either.
"Fuck that woman and her daughter," he said.
So he picked Love up and took her to the construction site with him.
⸻
When he arrived, the site was running just fine.
Even though he'd been gone for two days, things were under control.
Vincent had kept everything in line. And when Brian returned, Vincent had no desire to take over anything — he happily stepped back and returned to his usual duties.
"Welcome back, boss," Vincent said.
Vincent was at least 20 years older than Brian, but still showed him genuine respect.
He leaned over to Love and smiled.
"And welcome to you too, beautiful girl." He gently stroked her head.
Brian walked around the site, inspecting everything with Love strapped to his chest.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly.
"Wow, Vincent… great job, man. You really handled things well."
He headed up to the third floor and checked in with the other workers.
"All right, guys. Let's sit for a minute. Grab a smoke," Brian said.
They sat and chatted, updating him on everything.
Brian tried to listen, but his mind was elsewhere.
Just then, the big boss arrived.
He pulled Brian aside for a talk.
Brian, holding Love in his kangaroo pouch, gave him a quick overview of what had happened.
He didn't go into much detail — just hoped the guy would understand.
But then the last thing his boss said caught him off guard:
"Anyway, Brian… you know payday is in two days. After that, we're going to have to let you go."
That hit like a slap.
The guy was dead serious.
Brian realized he was being seen as just another disposable piece. He was being fired.
He clenched his fists. Took a deep breath. Then looked the man straight in the eyes.
The boss flinched for a moment, clearly intimidated, but didn't back down.
"We'll keep you on for two more days," the boss continued. "Next month, Vincent will take over your position."
Brian let out a dry laugh.
"Two more days, huh? Get fucked."
He turned to walk away, heading toward the stairs.
The boss stood frozen, stunned at his reaction.
"Oh, by the way," Brian added, turning back.
"Vincent's a solid choice. At least in a site full of assholes like you, he's one of the few respectful men left.
Take care."
And with that, he started walking down the stairs again.
The boss didn't say a word. He was too rattled to respond.
Not that he could do anything.
What was he going to do — call the police?
Who'd believe what Brian had said anyway?
When Brian returned home, he first called his parents and told them what had happened.
Then he began informing people from Michelle's side — the ones who were supposedly worried.
But instead of concern or comfort, what he got was bullshit.
Everyone acted like it was his fault.
"Didn't I tell you this would happen?"
"You should've seen the signs."
It drove Brian crazy.
Some people didn't even get to finish their sentence.
He hung up hard — slamming the phone shut without saying a word.
Others, he didn't hang up on immediately.
To them, he let it rip.
"Yeah? You 'told me so'? Fuck you. How about that? Eat your own words."
Click.
Another call, slammed shut.
He didn't care anymore.
He wasn't trying to keep peace, wasn't trying to be the nice guy.
He was done.
The days that followed were quiet — but not peaceful.
Brian went silent with the world.
Unless it was about Love, he didn't answer the phone at all.
He wasn't going out except for urgent needs.
And the only thing keeping him remotely sane was his daughter.
The rest of him… was crumbling.
One afternoon, while Brian was lying around doing absolutely nothing, the doorbell rang.
"Ughhh…" he groaned, dragging himself to the door.
When he opened it and saw Vivian standing there, a big part of him wanted to slam it shut in her face.
But he didn't.
Vivian walked inside without saying a word.
She simply looked at him.
"Hi," she finally said. "How are you, sweetheart?"
"I'm good. Thanks. You?" Brian replied coldly.
He poured a glass of whiskey for both of them and sat down.
"I heard what happened. I'm really sorry.
Is there anything I can do?"
Brian gave a bitter laugh.
"Ha! If you had asked me that question 22 years ago, maybe I would've had an answer for you."
Vivian picked up Love, who was crawling nearby, and began gently holding her in her lap.
She didn't come off like a good person — but it was clear she deeply loved her daughter, her granddaughter…
And maybe even Brian.
She was good only to the ones she cared about. That much was obvious.
"So, what did you do after?" Vivian asked.
"I turned around and walked away," Brian said. "What the hell else could I do?"
"Fair enough. Not like you had many options anyway," she replied and leaned back into the couch.
It was her fourth glass of whiskey, and the buzz was starting to show.
She sat there, eyes on Love. Brian too.
Both of them just… watching her.
Vivian reached over and held Brian's hand.
"I know what you've been through with my daughter.
I know how, despite everything, you still looked out for her, stood by her side.
I know how much you loved her.
I wish I could say the same about myself, Brian.
But I can't. It's hard. Almost impossible."
"I know, Vivian.
Thank you." Brian said, kissed her hand, then stood up and continued.
"I don't think I'll be talking to your daughter ever again.
But you…
I'd really like to be friends with you, Vivian.
You seem like someone who could actually be a good friend.
And right now, that's the one thing I need most."
Time passed. They kept talking.
Brian looked at Vivian with interest — but not romantically.
Not even sexually.
Even if he wanted to, he couldn't.
It felt more like a mother-son bond between them.
The way they spoke. The way they understood each other.
Brian felt better just letting it out — just… talking.
"It's eating me alive," Brian began.
"You know in school, when there's a race and your crush is watching from the sidelines?
And you train for weeks, months even.
You push yourself. You give it everything you've got.
But then, your rival — some other kid who's maybe better looking —"
"Theo's not better looking than you," Vivian cut him off.
"Not in any way," she added firmly.
"I hated that kid," she continued. "Back when they were dating in high school, I hated him.
But you… I've always seen you like a son."
"Thank you," Brian replied quietly.
"Anyway, keep going," Vivian encouraged.
"What was I saying again?" Brian asked.
"The race," she reminded.
"Oh yeah, right. So, no matter how hard you train,
you realize you'll never be picked over that kid.
And it's like… losing the race before it even starts.
That last desperate fight when you know it's already over."
Brian's voice began to shake.
Then, he broke down completely.
He cried hard — uncontrollably.
It had been building up. Now it was pouring out.
⸻
Midnight hit.
Brian tucked Love into bed.
Then lit a cigarette for himself — and one for Vivian.
And he asked:
"I've always wondered.
If you don't mind…
What really happened with your ex-husband?"
Vivian took a deep drag.
Paused.
And then began:
"We were married for ten years. Michelle was just born.
He already had a drug problem.
One day, I came home and found Michelle covered in blood.
She was only three months old.
And that son of a bitch had hit her.
Because she was crying.
I wanted to leave him that day.
But I couldn't.
I was so goddamn in love with him.
It's pathetic, I know.
But it's true.
It went on for a few more months.
He stopped hurting Michelle, but only because the drugs melted his brain so much that he started hurting me instead.
He beat me."
She took another drag, then a sip from her glass.
"One day I came home from work.
He was lying there on the couch like always. Doing nothing.
I was a lawyer. He used to be a teacher — but by then he was nothing.
Back when we both worked, we'd gotten a term life insurance policy — for Michelle's future.
Then he fell into drugs and destroyed everything."
Brian leaned on the counter, pouring fresh whiskey into their glasses.
Vivian took a sip. It hit hard. She shivered a little.
"Anyway…
I sat down next to him and asked, 'Where's Michelle?'
You know what that fucker said?
'How the fuck should I know, dumb bitch? Go find your daughter.'
I panicked.
I searched the whole house.
And found my seven-month-old baby asleep on the bathroom floor.
On cold wet tiles.
In the middle of winter.
I rushed her to the hospital.
She was on the edge of hypothermia.
If I had found her later… she might not have made it."
Vivian lit another cigarette.
Exhaled slowly.
"I went home.
He was still there. Still sleeping.
High out of his mind.
I found his syringe.
And I took a vial of potassium chloride from an old client's prescription.
And I injected it into him."
Brian's eyes widened.
"You… killed him?"
"What the fuck else was I supposed to do?
Toxicology showed nothing suspicious.
Just heroin in his system.
So they ruled it an overdose."
She leaned back and sighed.
"I got six million dollars from that insurance.
That money bought me houses. Cars. A life.
It saved me and my daughter.
Because if that bastard had lived…
Neither of us would have."
Brian didn't judge her.
He understood.
He walked over.
Held her tight.
Kissed her forehead.
"Your secret's safe with me."
Vivian couldn't hold it in anymore.
She wept into Brian's shoulder.
⸻
The next morning, Brian was still in a fog.
Vivian's confession was still ringing in his head.
He kept repeating to himself:
"From a fucking bastard like that…
comes a heartless bitch like Michelle."
The anger wasn't going anywhere.
The pain was still raw.
He rolled around in bed, muttering to himself, seething.
And then…
His phone buzzed.
A message.
"Can you come to New York for the divorce papers?"
Brian stared at the screen.
"Are you fucking kidding me?
You disrespectful piece of shit.
You really want me to come to New York?
What the fuck is wrong with you?"
he muttered to himself.
He opened up the keyboard.
Started typing a furious reply.
Pouring every ounce of rage into his words.
But right before hitting send…
He stopped.
And then he smiled.
"Why am I even wasting my words on you?
Just wait for me, Michelle.
You ruined my life.
You ruined my daughter's life.
Now I'm coming to ruin yours."