On the morning of Nicole's birthday, she was up at the crack of dawn, slipping into her most cherished princess dress.

I had learned my lesson and texted Simon three days ahead, but silence was all I got back.

Nicole had just finished a round of piano practice, her fingers dancing over the keys, and turned to me with eyes full of anticipation.

She was all set to play 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star' for Simon, the tune he had taught her last year, which she had been perfecting for days.

The moment our eyes locked, she understood.

Little Nicole's head drooped as she gently closed the piano.

"Dad's swamped. He can't make it."

Nicole cracked open the cake box, slicing off a piece.

"Don't worry, Mom. That just means more cake for us, right?"

Nicole's brave front cut me deep.

I felt utterly worthless, failing to grant my girl's simple wish.

With a heavy heart, I messaged Simon again.

[All Nicole wants is one birthday with you.]

[Can't you even do that much?]

Minutes ticked by until a ping broke the silence.

[Go ahead without me. I'll do something special for Nicole later.]

I was about to lose it, but the message vanished, replaced by a new one.

[I'll be there soon.]

Hope sparked in me as I wrapped Nicole in a hug.

"Mr. Hoffman remembered! He's on his way!"

Nicole's spirits soared, and she flipped the piano lid back open, her playing innocent and relentless.

"Dad says I'm clever for learning 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star'! He'll be so surprised!"

Nicole could not stop chattering about it, her face beaming.

Thirty minutes later, the doorbell chimed.

Nicole scampered to the door and leaped into Simon's arms.

"Daddy!"

However, there was Ella, right by Simon, and a whole posse of high-society types trailing behind them.

"What's with the extra kid at Hoffman's future wedding home?"

"Why hasn't anyone kicked this woman out yet?"

"Talk about a jinx..."

Their whispers and snide comments filled the air, every word a needle to my ears. A bodyguard was already on his way to remove me.

A chill of dread washed over me.

'Simon, can you really be this heartless?' I wondered.

My heart pounded as I gazed at him, the world around us fading away. I mustered a soft whisper, "Simon?"

However, Simon, almost on instinct, shoved Nicole from his arms and snapped at her with a fierce look, "Why are you calling out to me like that?!"

Then, avoiding my gaze in a fluster, he announced to the crowd, "We've crossed paths, but we're not close. I don't know where she came from, stirring up trouble."

Ella, perhaps deliberately, was toying with a bracelet, seemingly unbothered.

The weight in my heart sank like a stone, tugging at my insides with a sharp ache.

So, nine years together had dwindled to being labeled a 'troublemaker'.

Nicole stumbled backward, her eyes welling up. She sniffed and carefully changed her address.

"Mr. Hoffman..."

She made her way to the piano, took a seat, and said in a hushed tone, "Dad... Mr. Hoffman, may I play a song for you?"

She had longed to spend a proper birthday with her father.

In her innocent belief, she thought that reviving their shared memories would bring back the dad she knew.

However, before her fingers could grace the keys, a delicate, pale wrist stopped her.

Ella, all smiles, played the part of the hostess perfectly. "My future home won't tolerate any disruptions from a wild child."

Nicole's face went white as a sheet, tears streaming down uncontrollably, splashing onto the ground.

However, not a single soul showed any sympathy.

Rage boiled over in me when I saw my daughter's tears. I wrenched myself free from the grip of several towering bodyguards, snatched up a crystal cup from the table, and flung it at Simon.

The cup caught Simon off-guard, its jagged edge slicing a gash across his forehead.

"Bullying a child, how low can you go?!"

Breathless, with a fiery gaze, I stood there, staring down Simon.

The truth was plain as day. Simon had not sent that message.

It was Ella's scheme, using him to humiliate us publicly, to push Simon to cut ties with us once and for all.

However, I was done playing parts in the Hoffman family's twisted play.

A hush fell over the crowd, everyone too shocked to speak.

To them, the woman who had dared to strike at the untouchable Simon was practically signing her own death warrant.

Simon, clutching his bleeding forehead, kept his lips sealed tight.

Ella lost it. She held her belly, her eyes wild, and forgetting all decorum, she flailed her arms and screamed, "How dare you hit Simon?! Get her, now!"

Her bodyguards swarmed me, a flurry of fists and boots coming at me from all sides.

I fought back with all my might, but against those muscular men, I was overwhelmed and forced to the ground. I curled up, doing my best to shield myself.

Nicole let out a piercing scream and threw herself over me, her small body trying to fend off the blows meant for me.

I called out to her weakly, unable to push her away. Desperate, I managed to roll over, pulling Nicole underneath me to protect her.

I barely cracked my eyes open, squinting at Simon a short distance away.

His lips quivered, but no words came out.

I surrendered to the pain, closing my eyes as blows rained down, each one burrowing into my bones.

I could not even muster the energy to feel hatred.

'Simon, we're done for good,' I told myself.

Nicole's wails crescendoed, finally jolting Simon out of his paralysis.

"Stop, just stop! Ella, make them stop!" Simon barked.

Ella reluctantly gestured for the beating to end.

Breathless, I tried and failed to get up several times, my elbows scraping raw against the ground, bleeding slightly.

The scrapes looked far worse than the minor cut on Simon's head.

Finally, Nicole reached down to help me.

She was alright since I managed to shield her.

Ella, surrounded by her entourage, still looked unsatisfied, as if she had been wronged.

My body felt like it was rusted solid, but I clenched Nicole's hand tighter.

From then on, we only had each other.

I locked eyes with Simon one last time, finding nothing but emptiness.

"I'm sorry for the trouble," I said to the onlookers.

I nodded politely, straightened up, and walked out with slow, measured steps.

Nicole did not fight me then. Instead, she whispered, "Mom, what about our stuff?"

I shook my head and said, "Let's pretend it all went up in flames."

Options were slim in the middle of the night, so I booked us into a motel.

The room was surprisingly tidy, a small comfort.

Talk about serendipity—Nicole's birthday and mine were a day apart.

Tomorrow was my day.

It was time to head home.

My phone lit up twice. Unlocking it, I found a message from Simon.

[Don't come back for the next couple of days. Ella's got a prenatal appointment tomorrow, and I've got to be there.]

[I'll fill you in later.]

I stared at my phone, backspacing and rewriting, until I sent just one line.