Chapter 4: Leaving, For Good This Time

I went to my room to pack. Didn’t want to stay another second.

I grabbed my suitcases. My hands shook, but I moved fast.

Savannah was still yelling.

Her voice echoed down the hall. I tried to tune it out.

My in-laws treated her like a queen. Comforted her by putting me down.

They crowded around her. Voices syrupy. Words poison.

"Your dad’s evil, Savannah. He’ll get what’s coming. Don’t get upset, it’s not good for you."

My mother-in-law’s voice was sweet. Her hand rubbed Savannah’s back.

"He’s still your father. He just says things. He’s your only parent. Small-town guy like him, can’t survive on his own."

They painted me as weak. Desperate.

Savannah kept shouting, "I just don’t want him as my dad! Why can’t he just die already?"

Her words stung. I zipped my suitcase.

My heart still ached.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t turn it off.

Once I finished packing, things quieted down.

The house was still. I took a breath.

Gabrielle opened the door.

She stood in the doorway. Arms crossed.

"You really are putting on a show. Fine, let’s go get divorced now."

Her words were sharp. But I heard the uncertainty.

I took out my ID and marriage certificate. "Let’s go."

I held them out. Hands steady.

Her smile froze.

She hesitated. Her confidence wavered.

"Divorce, huh? Leave with nothing, and I’ll do it."

She tried to sound tough. But her voice cracked.

"Oh, so you don’t actually want a divorce. You’re just trying to get me to stay."

My laughter was hollow. She flinched.

"Me, not want to leave you? What a joke. Half the assets, right? Fine—just don’t chicken out."

She spat the words. I nodded.

At the courthouse, I realized why Gabrielle was so confident.

Cold, sterile building. Faded posters. Gabrielle handed over the paperwork.

She’d already transferred most of our assets.

Bank accounts emptied. Property deeds signed over.

Even the house was in her parents’ name.

The home I’d worked for. Gone with a signature.

Fifty-fifty split. Less than five grand.

Barely enough to rent a studio. But I refused to let them see me break.

She signed her name.

Her pen scratched across the page. She glanced up.

I sighed.

I took a breath. Signed my name.

Then I set the pen down.

A strange relief washed through me. It was over.

"Doing this out of spite, you’ll just end up suffering. Let’s see you win Savannah back."

She tossed her hair. Eyes flashing.

"Unless you get on your knees and beg, I’m not calling it off. You’ll be out in thirty days."

She sneered. Waiting for me to break.

She glanced at my knees, waiting for me to kneel.

I saw the expectation in her eyes, the way she shifted her weight, ready to gloat.

Every time, she’d make me file for divorce. Then use Savannah to make me beg.

It was a cruel game. But this time, I was done.

I never had the heart to leave. For my kid’s sake.

I convinced myself staying was better. But now, I saw the truth.

This time, I walked out.

I grabbed my suitcases. Left without a word.

She chased after me, cursing.

Her voice followed me down the steps. I kept walking.

I ignored her.

I focused on the road ahead. I was free.

I listened to her curses all the way home.

Her words faded. My footsteps steady.

As soon as I opened the door, something was off.

The house was too quiet. I set my bags down.

My in-laws nudged Savannah, whispering.

They huddled together. Savannah glanced at me.

Savannah came over, sullen.

She stomped across the room. Arms crossed.

"Give me the ticket and I’ll let it go. I’ll even let you keep being my dad."

Her voice was sharp. But I heard the desperation.

I smiled and shook my head. "No need. I don’t need you to fake it. I just won’t be your dad."

My voice was gentle, but firm. Confusion flickered in her eyes.

She was about to explode.

Her face turned red. Fists clenched.

My mother-in-law held her back, showing me Savannah’s glasses.

She held up Savannah’s glasses. Her eyes pleaded, just for a second.

"Mason, stop making trouble. Look how thick her glasses are. You know how hard she worked for this."

Her voice was softer. I saw the worry.

"If she misses this, she’ll have to do regular college admissions like everyone else. She’ll have an ordinary life."

She painted a picture of failure. Missed chances. I felt the guilt.

"How could that be? You and her mom are both so capable. You’ll get the ticket."

I tried to sound light. But I saw the panic.

They frowned.

Their confidence wavered. For the first time, they looked uncertain.

"Of course we can get it! But we’re busy. And since you already got it, if we don’t use it, you’ll say we did it just to spite you."

She tried to sound tough. But her voice shook.

Four pairs of eyes on the ticket in my hand.

They watched me. Waiting.

I looked at Savannah’s stubborn face. Her glasses, thicker than last year.

She looked young. Vulnerable.

In the end, my heart softened.

The old ache. The need to protect her.

Fine. One last time.

I took a breath and held it out.

I handed her the ticket.

She snatched it. Relief washed over her face.

"From now on, we’re even."

My voice was quiet, but firm. No more begging.

"Stop pretending! Go make me some blueberry ice cream, or I’ll tell Mom to really divorce you."

Her voice was bratty. But I heard the fear.

Savannah was spoiled. She loved my homemade ice cream.

She always begged for it. Our tradition.

I didn’t say anything. I went to my room, grabbed my suitcases, and left.

I slipped out the back door. Didn’t look back.

No one stopped me.

The house stayed quiet. Laughter, distant.

I heard my mother-in-law’s voice.

She was already spinning the story.

"He’ll be back crying in a day. Don’t forgive him so easy this time."

Her words were smug. She didn’t believe I could make it.

"Mom, get something for him to kneel on! Make him get on his knees and beg!"

They laughed. Sharp and mean.

The whole family laughed.

Their laughter followed me. I kept walking.

I gave a bitter smile.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d given them everything.

I told myself—

I paused at the end of the driveway. The house glowed with light. But it wasn’t my home.

It’s okay, Mason. The suffering’s almost over.

I took a breath. Stepped into the unknown.

This time, I wasn’t turning back.