Meeting Nick was straight out of a daytime drama.

He was in a dark place, literally trying to end it all by drowning.

Luckily, I was there to pull him out of the water.

From there, we hit it off, and I found myself falling for him.

Before I knew it, Nick was down on one knee, proposing.

I hesitated, unsure of his true intentions—my family's wealth far exceeded his.

I feared he was after my money and the influence of my family.

Reluctantly, I said no.

But then Nick knelt before me, tears streaming down his face,

"Chloe, I don't need your money. I just want to be by your side, to care for you forever."

"I truly love you."

His words melted my heart, and I accepted his proposal.

Soon after, we welcomed Mia into the world.

Nick was ecstatic to be a father and a husband; he took to it with a zeal I hadn't seen before.

He knew how tough I found balancing work and home, so he stepped up as a stay-at-home dad.

We were even named the neighborhood's family of the year—everyone was envious.

I believed Nick loved me and our little family.

But everything changed when Jen Westwood walked back into our lives.

Nick began to come home late or not at all.

He seemed indifferent to Mia, often outright ignoring her.

Our home became a battlefield of endless arguments.

Still, he kept going back to Jen.

I considered divorce, but Mia didn't want to be away from her dad.

I felt stuck, holding off on any decisions.

Little did I know, Nick's choice would end up costing Mia her life.

Despite knowing she was in danger, he chose to help Jen with something as trivial as a jar lid.

It was clear where his priorities lay.

The guilt is mine to bear—my decisions led to the loss of my precious daughter.

Perhaps Nick was eager to be free because, without needing a prompt, he came back the next day.

I was sorting through my and Mia's belongings when he walked in with a turtle in his arms.

That turtle belonged to Jen.

He cooed at it, "Just hang in there, buddy. You'll get some meat soon."

His patience was a stark contrast to his treatment of Mia.

I felt a pang in my heart as he spoke.

Nick went to the fridge to get some meat, then remembered the kitchen was in ruins.

"Guess we're out of luck, pal. You'll have to rough it with bigger chunks today," he said, carefully tearing the meat into pieces and tenderly feeding the turtle.

I remembered how Nick would rush Mia through meals, never patient, always forcing her to eat, regardless of whether the food was too hot.

When Mia resisted, he would scold her harshly.

Now, here he was, treating a turtle with more compassion than he ever showed his daughter.

By now, Mia would have been tugging at his sleeve, begging him to play with her.

But Nick would always dismiss her, cold and detached.

Since entering the house, he hadn't even asked where Mia was.

Nick paused in the destroyed kitchen, looking lost as he searched for something.

Then he called out, "Where's that old fish tank? I need it for the turtle. Find it for me, quickly."

I couldn't contain my anger and grief any longer.

Before he knew what was happening, I slapped him across the face.

His head turned with the force of my blow, and when he looked back, his face was livid.

"Chloe, are you out of your mind? First, you used the divorce to get me here, and now you're attacking me like a madwoman?"

"I must have been cursed to end up with you and that brat!"

The sudden noise frightened the turtle, which withdrew into its shell.

Nick's tone softened as he comforted the turtle, "If this scare hurts my little buddy, you're going to pay."

I took a deep breath, suppressing the sharp pain in my heart.

"Nick, Mia is dead."

I whispered the words, hardly able to speak.

Nick stopped in his tracks, the turtle still in his arms.

His laughter was tinged with mockery. "That explains why Mia's not around. You're really laying it on thick with this act, huh?"

"Well, the act's over, bring her back already. I'm in a hurry; this turtle needs a vet."

He still believed I was playing tricks on him.

I was too tired to argue.

"The kitchen blew up yesterday, Mia was hurt badly. We didn't make it to the hospital in time."

"If she hadn't been calling for you with her last breaths, I wouldn't want you anywhere near her now."

"Her funeral is tomorrow. As her father, you should be there."

Nick scoffed, glancing back at the scorched kitchen.

"You're really selling this story, even planned a funeral, huh?"

"I saw the news, that kind of explosion wouldn't kill anyone."

"Besides, it was Mia who made me late for Jen; her cooking burned."

I moved into Mia's room to pack up the last of her belongings.

Nick caught up and held down the box.

"Chloe, I was just helping Jen with a stuck jar. You don't have to leave over this, let alone take Mia away."

"Nothing happened between me and Jen, you know."

The smug certainty in his eyes was evident.

He was sure I wouldn't leave, thinking this was all just a play to keep him.

He had no idea how wrong he was.

Pain throbbed through my heart.

I brushed his hand off the box and stepped past him.

"Be there tomorrow, at the funeral."

I had organized everything for Mia's funeral myself, down to the last detail—all in her favorite pink.

Her grandfather had flown over twenty hours to make it back in time.

Once we were alone, my repressed tears finally spilled over, and I wept uncontrollably in his arms.

When we'd calmed somewhat, he sensed something was off.

"Chloe, where's Nick?"

Caught off-guard, I hadn't yet explained everything to him.

I told him about the day's events and how Nick had transferred all my funds out of my accounts.

Dad was livid. "That man's a monster! How could he be so cruel!"

Concerned about his health, I quickly soothed him, "Dad, I want to handle this on my own."

Not much later, Nick entered, still carrying the turtle.

"You went to all this trouble just to get me back, huh? I'm impressed."

Even at Mia's funeral, he persisted in believing it was all an act.

Mia's portrait hung solemnly in the hall; her smile seemed to light up the somber room.

I seemed to hear her sweet voice.

Nick saw it and smirked.

He stared at the photo for a long moment, then burst out laughing.

"Chloe, you and Mia really went all out to bring me back, didn't you?"

"Enough with the drama, I've got a trip to make."

It was just the two of us there.

Nick was holding his suitcase in one hand and the turtle in the other.

He was clearly planning another visit to Jen.

"Nick, take a look at this."

I handed him the hospital's death certificate.

Nick looked at the document quietly, and then his tone turned icy. "You're quite prepared, aren't you, Chloe?"

He walked over to the photo, and angrily threw it to the ground.

"Want to play games? Fine, let's play."

He knocked over the pink floral arrangements.

The room turned into chaos from his rampage.

As I scrambled to pick up Mia's photo, I noticed Nick was already at her casket.

"A casket too? What's next, Mia jumping out to surprise me?"

He reached for the casket lid, and I rushed to stop him.

"Nick! Please, don't open it. Let her rest."

He continued, unfazed.

"Rest? I wanted peace, too. If it weren't for the bad luck of meeting you and Mia, I'd be living quietly with Jen by now."

"Stop!"

He opened the casket anyway.

Mia lay there, serene and pale.

Nick quickly closed the lid again, his voice cracking,

"Mia... is she really gone? How can this be..."