Chapter 1: Aunt Diane Had Other Plans
The look on Aunt Diane’s face changed the moment she opened the door and saw all three of my children standing behind me.
Not just Kayla and Micah.
All three.
Including six-month-old Noah, asleep in his car seat with his tiny fingers curled around the edge of his blanket.
For three long seconds, neither of us moved.
Then Aunt Diane’s eyes traveled from my face to the baby, then to my eight-year-old daughter, and finally to my five-year-old son.
“Jasmine.””
I forced a smile that felt more like a crack forming across glass.
“Hey, Aunt Diane.””
She didn’t return the smile.
“What are you doing here?””
The question hit harder than I expected.
I adjusted the diaper bag slipping off my shoulder and glanced behind me at the darkening street.
“I texted you.””
“I saw your text.””
“Okay, so—”
“That doesn’t answer my question.””
My stomach tightened.
Behind me, Micah hugged himself and shifted from one foot to the other.
“Mom,” he whispered, “I’m cold.””
My heart sank.
“I know, baby.””
The September air had changed while we were standing there. When we left the apartment, the evening had felt cool and comfortable. Now the wind cut through my thin sweater, and I hated that my children were standing on a stranger’s porch because I had nowhere else to go.
Aunt Diane noticed Micah rubbing his arms.
Her expression softened for half a second.
Whatever anger she had toward me, she would never let a child freeze outside.
She stepped back.
“Come in.””
Relief rushed through me.
“Thank you.””
Kayla walked inside first, holding her backpack tightly against her chest. She had always been observant, the kind of child who noticed when adults whispered in the kitchen or when someone forced a smile.
Micah followed her.
I lifted Noah’s car seat carefully and carried it into the living room.
Aunt Diane closed the door behind us.
The click of the lock sounded much louder than it should have.
The moment it shut, she turned around.
“Now tell me what’s going on.””
“Nothing is going on.””
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Jasmine.””
I looked away.
That one word had always been enough to make me feel twelve years old again.
Aunt Diane had a way of saying my name that made excuses disappear.
“I just need you to keep them tonight.””
Her face changed.
Not a little.
Completely.
“Tonight?””
“Yes.””
“You said you needed help for a couple of hours.””
“That’s what I meant.””
“No, it isn’t.””
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
She crossed her arms.
“How long have you known you were bringing them here?””
“Aunt Diane—”
“How long?””
I swallowed.
“Since this afternoon.””
Her jaw tightened.
“Since this afternoon, you knew you were leaving your three children here overnight, and you decided to tell me when you were already standing at my door?””
“I wasn’t trying to surprise you.””
“Then what were you trying to do?””
I looked toward the couch.
Noah was still sleeping peacefully.
His little chest rose and fell beneath his blanket.
I wished I could borrow his calm.
“I didn’t know what else to do.””
The anger in her face faded slightly.
Just slightly.
“For how long?””
“Maybe four hours.””
“Jasmine.””
“Five at the most.””
She stared at me.
“I’ll be back before midnight.””
“Where are you going?””
The question landed exactly where I didn’t want it to.
I looked down at my hands.
“Aunt Diane…”
“No.””
Her voice was quiet now.
That was worse.
“Don’t do that thing where you say my name like it’s supposed to answer the question.””
I closed my eyes.
“I have to meet someone.””
“Who?””
I didn’t answer.
Her expression changed again.
And I hated that she understood me so well.
“Is it Daniel?””
The room went silent.
Kayla stopped taking off her jacket.
Micah looked between us.
I immediately forced a smile.
“Kids, why don’t you go pick a movie?””
Kayla didn’t move.
“Mom?””
“Please, sweetheart.””
She looked at Aunt Diane, then at me.
Finally, she grabbed Micah’s hand.
“Come on.””
As they walked toward the living room, I heard Micah whisper, “Are we staying here?””
Kayla answered quietly.
“I don’t know.””
The words hurt more than they probably realized.
Aunt Diane waited until they were out of earshot.
“Daniel?””
I sat down on the edge of the couch.
“I need to talk to him.””
“After everything?””
I looked at her.
“You don’t understand.””
“I understand more than you think.””
“No, you don’t.””
The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them.
Aunt Diane went still.
She had spent years defending me when no one else did.
When my mother died, she was the one who sat beside me at sixteen years old and helped me pack away my mother’s clothes.
When I had Noah, she drove three hours to stay with me after the delivery because Daniel had been “too busy with work.””
When my marriage started falling apart, she was the person who listened to me cry over the phone at two in the morning.
She understood.
Maybe too much.
“Jasmine,” she said softly, “I know you love him.””
My throat tightened.
“But love doesn’t mean you keep standing in front of someone who keeps walking away.””
I looked down.
“He’s their father.””
“And he knows that.””
“He made a mistake.””
“A mistake is forgetting an anniversary.””
She stepped closer.
“A mistake is missing a school event because of traffic. A mistake is saying something hurtful and apologizing.””
Her voice lowered.
“What Daniel did is a choice.””
I felt my eyes burning.
“You don’t know what he said to me.””
“Then tell me.””
I couldn’t.
Because if I said it out loud, it would become real.
Three weeks ago, Daniel had packed a suitcase.
No warning.
No argument.
No dramatic goodbye.
He had simply stood in our bedroom doorway while Noah cried in the next room and told me he needed “space.””
Space.
That was the word people used when they wanted freedom without admitting they were leaving.
He promised he would call.
He promised he would still be a father.
He promised so many things.
And then he disappeared for nineteen days.
Until tonight.
Until the message appeared on my phone.
*We need to talk. I’m ready to explain everything. Come alone.*
I didn’t tell Aunt Diane that part.
Not yet.
“You’re meeting him,” she said.
It wasn’t a question.
I nodded.
“He said he has something important to tell me.””
Aunt Diane let out a slow breath.
“Jasmine, people say a lot of things when they want another chance.””
“I’m not going back.””
She studied me.
“Then why are you taking the children to my house at nine o’clock at night?””
I looked away.
Because I didn’t have an answer.
Because part of me hated Daniel.
And another part of me was still waiting for him to knock on our door and tell me everything could be fixed.
Aunt Diane sat across from me.
“You know what worries me?””
“What?””
“You’re not going because you believe him.””
I frowned.
“Then why?””
She looked toward the hallway where my children were waiting.
“You’re going because you’re afraid he’s finally going to tell you the truth.””
My chest tightened.
I wanted to argue.
I wanted to tell her she was wrong.
But before I could speak, my phone buzzed.
The sound cut through the room.
Aunt Diane’s eyes dropped to the screen.
I looked down.
One new message.
From Daniel.
My fingers froze around the phone.
*Come to the old house on Maple Street. Don’t tell anyone. Especially Diane.*
A cold feeling spread through my body.
Aunt Diane saw my face.
“What did he say?””
I couldn’t answer.
Because beneath Daniel’s message was another notification.
A photo attachment.
A photo sent from an unknown number.
And when I opened it, I saw something that made my entire world stop.
It was a picture of Daniel.
Holding Noah.
Taken yesterday.
But I had spent the last three weeks believing Daniel had never even met our baby alone.
And in the corner of the photo was a woman I had never seen before.
May you like
A woman who was smiling at the camera.
A woman who was wearing my wedding ring.