That drawing board was my birthday gift to Vivien.

On it was the family portrait she'd spent a whole month drawing.

Now it was buried under black scribbles.

“No! That's mine!”

Vivien lunged to grab it back.

Jake shoved her away with one hand, and she hit the floor full force.

The back of her head cracked against the corner of the coffee table with a dull thud.

Everything in my head went silent.

Three strides and I had her up off the ground.

No blood at the back of her head, but a swollen lump.

Vivien sobbed from the pain.

Jake still clutched that marker, not a care on his face.

I slapped at his hand and sent the marker flying.

“Ow——”

Jake let out a wail, dropped onto his backside, and started throwing a fit.

Dorothy shot up from the couch and rushed over, scooping Jake into her arms.

“What do you think you're doing?!”

She glared at me.

“A grown adult, hitting a child? Have you got no decency at all?”

I looked at her.

Wearing my pajamas, living in my house, drinking from my cup.

Her son knocked my daughter to the floor, and she was asking me about decency?

“Who let you into my home?”

“Zachary did.”

She smoothed the wrinkles out of her clothes, smug as anything.

“My rental's leaking, and Zachary felt bad for Jake, so he told us to stay here for now.”

I picked up the juice off the coffee table and threw it straight at her.

Dorothy shrieked and jumped up.

“You're insane! June, you're insane!”

“Get out.”

I pointed at the door.

“Take your son and get out. Right now.”

"What gives you the right to throw me out? Zachary said we could live here!"

“This is my house.”

My voice was flat.

“My name is the only one on the deed.”

“Zachary Gilbert has no right to cram anyone in here.”

Dorothy opened her mouth, ready to say more.

The elevator dinged out in the hall.

The door opened.

Zachary stood in the doorway, arms full of bags, soaked through.

He saw Dorothy's face dripping with juice, saw Jake crying on the floor, saw me standing in the middle of the living room.

His first reaction wasn't to ask what had happened.

It was to rush over and put Dorothy behind him.

“June, what did you do?”

There was an accusation in Zachary's voice.

“You're asking me what I did?”

I pointed at the pajamas on Dorothy, pointed at the scribbled-over drawing board on the floor, pointed at the lump on Vivien's head.

“You should be asking what she did.”

Dorothy hid behind him, sniffling and crying.

“Zachary, I just moved in like you told me to, and the second she got home she started swinging.”

“I never laid a finger on you.”

I said.

That was when Jake wrapped his arms around Zachary's leg.

“Daddy! She hit me! It hurts so bad!”

Daddy.

He called him Daddy.

Without thinking, Zachary reached down and patted Jake's head.

The gesture was so natural.

So natural it made me sick.

“June, no matter what happened, you shouldn't have raised a hand to a child.”

“Jake's only five. Is that really necessary, from a grown adult?”

“Your daughter is five too.”

I said.

“She just got shoved down by your Jake and hit her head. Did you ask her if it hurts?”

He finally glanced in Vivien's direction.

Then he turned back to me and said:

“Apologize to Dorothy first, and then we can all talk it out.”

“Apologize?”

I heard myself laugh.

“Zachary, you want me to apologize to a woman who's wearing my pajamas, living in my house, and watching her son bully my daughter?”

His brow creased.

"She's only staying temporarily—"

"Have you no shame at all?"

The words shot out of me, and even I froze for a second.

In three years I'd never said a harsh word to him.

He froze too.

I pulled out my phone and opened the transfer records.

From the very first one three years ago all the way to today.

A hundred of them.

Each one $5.20.

I shoved the screen right up to his face.

"See this? A hundred times."

"A hundred times you walked out on me and your daughter to go play daddy for someone else."

The color drained from Zachary's face.

I turned and crossed to the TV console, sliding open the second drawer.

I dug out a divorce agreement and slapped it down on the coffee table.

Dorothy peeked out from behind Zachary.

"June, don't do anything rash. Please don't let an outsider like me come between you and your husband."

I looked at her, my voice flat.

"Tell me the truth. Did Jake actually have a fever or not?"

Dorothy's eyes flickered.

I turned to Zachary.

"One of you lied that you went to the hospital, the other was loudly showing off at the amusement park."

"Before you lie, could you at least get your stories straight?"

Zachary's face went a livid, blotchy red.

He lunged forward and grabbed for the agreement, tearing at it.

I didn't stop him.

"June, calm down!"

"I am calm."

I walked into the bedroom, dragged the suitcase out, and took Vivien's hand where she stood on the floor.

"Take your time reading it. Tearing it up won't help. I kept a digital copy."

"See you in court."

"June! Stop right there!"

Zachary shouted behind me.

"You walk out that door, don't think about ever coming back!"

I didn't stop.

"I mean it! Where can you go with a kid? You think you can survive without me?"

His footsteps came chasing after me.

I pressed the elevator button. The doors slid open.

Before they closed, I took one last look at that home.

Zachary stood in the entryway, his hand still frozen mid-reach.

The elevator doors shut.

Vivien nestled into my arms and whispered, "Mommy, we never have to come back, right?"

"Right."

"Never again."