Chapter 4 - Leaving the Ruins
The discharge from the hospital was executed like a covert military operation. Dana and another nurse escorted me down the freight elevator to the basement parking garage, avoiding the main lobby entirely. My father was waiting in his SUV, the engine running, his face a mask of grim determination.
When he saw me carrying Lily in her car seat, his eyes softened, and he quickly got out to help me. He didn't say a word about Mark. He just hugged me tight, his strong arms holding me up when my legs felt like jelly, and then he carefully secured Lily’s car seat into the back.
"Are you ready, sweetheart?" he asked softly, looking at me through the rearview mirror as we drove out of the dark garage into the bright, blinding Nashville sunshine.
"Yes, Dad. Let's go."
As we turned onto the main avenue, I saw a figure sitting on the concrete bench outside the hospital’s main entrance. It was Mark. He looked wretched. He was wearing the same clothes he had worn three days ago, now rumpled and stained. His head was in his hands, his shoulders shaking. He looked like a man who had lost everything, which was accurate. He had.
I looked away, focusing my eyes on the road ahead. I felt no pity. I felt only a profound, echoing emptiness where my love for him used to be.
The drive to Franklin was quiet. The rolling green hills of Tennessee passed by in a blur of summer heat. My parents' cabin was nestled at the end of a long, gravel driveway, surrounded by ancient oaks and thick woods. It was a place of peace, a place where I had spent my childhood summers skinning my knees and catching fireflies. It was the perfect sanctuary.
When we arrived, my mother was waiting on the porch. She didn't say anything either. She just came down the steps, took Lily’s car seat from my father, and wrapped her free arm around my waist, guiding me inside.
The cabin smelled of cedar, lavender, and fresh-baked bread. My mother had already set up a temporary crib in the master bedroom, stocking it with diapers, onesies, and formula. She had also prepared a pot of chicken soup, the steam rising from the kitchen island.
"Go lay down, Emily," my mother whispered, kissing my cheek. "I’ll watch Lily. You need to sleep. Really sleep."
I didn't argue. I went into the bedroom, crawled onto the large king-sized bed, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted for ten hours.
When I woke up, it was twilight. The room was bathed in a soft, blue shadow. I could hear the faint sound of my mother singing a lullaby in the living room, and the quiet murmur of my father’s voice.
I sat up, feeling a bit more like myself. I reached for my phone, which had been on silent. There were dozens of missed calls and text messages.
Most of them were from Mark.
Mark: Emily, please. I saw the results. Oh my god, Emily, I am so sorry. I don’t even know what to say. I am a monster. Please let me see her. Please let me see you.
Mark: I didn't mean any of it. I was just so confused. Liam told me... he showed me texts. I was out of my mind. Please, Emily, don't do this. Don't end our marriage over a mistake.
Mark: Please call me. Just tell me she’s okay. Tell me you’re okay.
I deleted them all without replying. Then, I saw a text from an unknown number.
Unknown: Emily, it’s Liam. Look, I think things got out of hand. I didn't mean for Mark to do that at the hospital. I was just looking out for him. We should talk.
My blood ran cold, then boiled. Liam. The instigator. The man who had whispered poison into his brother's ear while I was carrying his niece.
I took a deep breath, took a screenshot of the message, and forwarded it directly to Rachel.
Emily: Liam is texting me now. Please add this to the file. I want a restraining order against him as well if possible.
Rachel: On it. Do not reply to him under any circumstances. I am filing the temporary protective order tomorrow morning. Rest up, Emily. We are in control.
I put the phone down and walked out to the living room. My mother was cradling Lily, rocking her back and forth in the old wooden rocking chair by the fireplace. My father was sitting at the kitchen table, a legal document spread out in front of him.
"How are you feeling, sweetie?" my mother asked, looking up with a warm smile.
"Better," I said, walking over to gently stroke Lily’s soft cheek. She cooed in her sleep, a tiny, perfect sound. "I feel clear."
"Your lawyer sent over the initial custody and child support documents for your review," my father said, tapping the paper. "Mark’s lawyer has already contacted her. Apparently, Mark is refusing to sign the divorce papers. He wants mediation. He wants to see Lily."
"He can want whatever he wants," I said, sitting down opposite my father. "But he doesn't get to dictate the terms anymore. He broke the contract of our marriage. Now, he has to deal with the consequences."
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My father looked at me, pride shining in his eyes. "That’s my girl. You don't let them push you around."
"I won't," I said. "For Lily's sake, I will never let them close enough to hurt us again."
