Divorce Starts With One Missed Celebration

My daughter, Nora Cadwell, widened her eyes. "Really?"

I smiled and nodded, patting the back of her hand reassuringly.

She took a deep breath and stood up. The speech lasted only five minutes. After thanking her teachers, she thanked only one parent.

"I'd like to thank my mom. Without her, I wouldn't be who I am today."

I watched her speak with quiet confidence. My heart swelled with pride, yet it also ached.

My husband Samuel Cadwell's family, on the other hand, looked anything but pleased.

"She didn't mention her father at all," said Samuel's mother, Elizabeth Smith, with a sour look. "This is exactly why girls shouldn't get an education. They forget where they came from."

Nora's aunt, Alice Cadwell, shot me a glance before adding sarcastically, "Don't just blame the kid, Mom. Her mother must've put her up to it."

Before I could respond, Nora, who had always been quiet and well-behaved, spoke up.

"You keep talking about my dad, but where is he?"

Elizabeth and Alice froze for a second before shrugging.

"Your father's busy with work," Alice said. "Something probably came up on the way here. What's the big deal?"

"Exactly." Elizabeth nodded. "He just didn't make it. It's not like he's dead. And you call yourself his daughter? What an ungrateful child."

Nora's eyes reddened. She was about to argue, but I held her back.

"It's not worth it," I said softly.

As far as we were concerned, he might as well have been dead.

By the time the party ended at 8:30 pm, Nora and I had seen off the last of the guests before stepping outside.

Just then, the doors to the hall next door opened.

Nora was caught off guard when she made eye contact with Samuel as he walked out of the hall with Riley Jackson in his arms.

"Dad…" Her eyes instantly filled with tears. "Why are you—"

"Oh, Professor Caldwell. Is this your daughter, too?" a teacher walking out of the other hall exclaimed. "How did she do? Is she having her graduation party next door?"

Raymond Cooper visibly stiffened behind him.

Riley glanced at Samuel before reluctantly letting go of his arm.

"I don't know her," Samuel replied. "She isn't my daughter. She has the wrong person."

My whole body froze. I stared at him in disbelief. "Samuel, you can't—"

"Mom, it's okay." Nora grabbed my arm. Her hands were trembling, but she forced a smile.

My heart shattered.

"That's right," I said, looking Samuel straight in the eye. "She made a mistake. This is my daughter, and we don't know you."

We turned and walked away.

For just a moment, hesitation flickered across Samuel's face. But in the end, he let us walk away.

An hour later, Samuel came home reeking of alcohol.

"Riley's son had his graduation party tonight too. I was just pretending to be his dad so they wouldn't have to go through it alone."

He spoke casually as he changed out of his shoes. "I said what I said back there because I didn't want the boy comparing himself to Nora and feeling inferior. It would've affected his mental health. We'll invite her teachers out for dinner another day."

He reached out to pat Nora on the shoulder, but she turned away before he could touch her.

"There won't be another day," I said, calmly watching the color drain from Samuel's face. "The teachers are all leaving for vacation. Today was the only time everyone could be there. After this, school starts."

The living room fell into an uneasy silence.

Samuel lowered his hand. He frowned and looked at Nora, who remained silent. "Fine. You're an adult now, Nora. Stop making such a big deal out of nothing. No one's going to indulge your little tantrums when you get out into the real world."

Nora stood where she was while fighting back tears.

I kept quiet.

The next morning, I handed her a document.

"Sweetheart, I need your help with something," I said gently. "Take a look at this. Do you think the divorce papers are worded okay?"