My Ex-wife, My Destination

Daisy’s P.O.V.

As the door to my room bursts open and I shift my gaze towards it, my eyes widen in horror upon seeing Luke, my husband, entering with a woman clad in a sexy outfit.

“Luke, who is this woman?” I ask, my heart thumping inside my chest.

He gives me a sinister smile, scaring me more. “This woman is my new toy because I’m bored with you, Daisy.”

“Luke….” I stammer, tears welling up in my eyes. He can’t do this. The only thing which was giving me strength was that he was mine, my husband. He can’t just throw me away like this.

The woman beside Luke giggles, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. “Hi, sweetie,” she purrs, sending a chill down my spine. “I’m Luke’s new playmate. He said you wouldn’t mind sharing.”

I feel like the floor has slipped out from beneath me. Is this some sick joke? I’m his wife.

My hands tremble as I clutch the edge of the window for support. “Luke, I’m your wife.”

“You were never my wife, Daisy,” he sneers, and the woman standing beside him smirks at my condition. “You were just a worthless piece of trash that I’m throwing away.”

A sob escapes my mouth. He called me a piece of trash many times before, but today his words rip my soul out of me. Because for the first time, he insults me in front of another person.

Luke wraps his arm around the woman’s waist. “Now, leave my room. I have better things to do.”

Tears stream down my cheeks as I stare at him, my vision blurred with grief and anger. How could he be so cruel, so heartless?

I won’t let him hurt me any longer. I won’t stay with him any longer. His presence already starts to suffocate me. I can’t believe, for this cruel and shameless man, I was enduring the pain every day.

I rush out of the room without looking behind me. I directly come to the dining table where the divorce papers lay. With trembling hands, I pick up a pen and sign my name on the dotted line. I take out the ring from my finger and place it on the divorce papers.

It’s finished.

I lost. He won.

Five Years Later

(It’s been five years since I looked beyond Luke. It was quite hard to even breathe in the beginning because my days used to begin thinking about him and end up doing the same. I made my life hell because of him. How did I run behind a person who didn’t even care for me? I was an idiot.

The Luke I loved was someone else who died when he passed the school. The Luke I married was a heartless person. I still cherished the moments I spent with Luke in my school times.

Now one thing that matters to me in my life is my little daughter. She is my entire world.

After a few weeks of my divorce, I shifted from Miami to Manhattan because I applied for a job as a content writer there and I wanted to go away from Luke. When I shifted to Manhattan, after a few weeks, I got to know that I was pregnant. Before this news, I was surviving my days, but after this, I got hope to live again. Therefore, I kept my daughter’s name ‘Hope’.

Hope taught me the true meaning of life. No matter how dark the night may seem, there is always a glimmer of light waiting to guide us forward. She is the sole reason for my existence today. She brings immense joy to my life, and having her by my side makes me feel complete. Raising her on my own wasn’t easy, but it was worth every sacrifice.

There are moments when she sees her friends with their fathers and asks me about her own dad. She insists, “I want a daddy too,” but sadly, her father is unaware of her existence. It saddens me deeply to see her longing for a father’s love. I do my best to provide her with both a mother’s and a father’s love, but I struggle with how to answer her questions about her dad.

However, I can’t fall weak. I have to handle her, and with time, she will understand that I’m enough for her.)

I sit at my desk, sharing my thoughts in my diary. It is something which will never change.

“Mommy.” Hope’s voice brings me back to the present, and a smile graces my lips as I hear her soft tone.

As I turn towards her, I find her sitting on the bed, rubbing her eyes while clutching her beloved rabbit toy, affectionately named “Rabbi.”

I approach my little princess and settle down beside her. “Good morning, my baby,” I murmur, embracing her and planting a gentle kiss on her head. She continues to rub her eyes, still halfway lost in her sleepy state.

“Goody morning, Mommy,” she greets me with her endearing, drowsy voice, instantly warming my heart.

She settles into my lap, resting her head against my chest. “Today, I saw my Daddy in my dleam (dream). He said he’s coming to me super soon.” My heart sinks as I listen to her words.

She is only 4 years old, and I don’t know how to explain to her that her daddy may never come because he doesn’t know about her existence. And also, I don’t want him to ever find out that he has a daughter. What if he tries to snatch her from me? I’ll never let that happen. Only the mere thought of losing Hope makes me shiver.

I place my hand on her face. “Hopi, Daddy won’t be able to come to us because he lives far away,” I explain, my voice tinged with sadness.

“No, Mommy. He promised me he would come,” she insists, her eyes reflecting a deep sadness.

Hope is like a blend of me and Luke. Her stunning blue eyes reflect Luke’s while her gorgeous long blonde hair resembles me. Every time I gaze into her eyes, memories of my ex-husband flood back, making it even more challenging.

I can’t bear to see her so upset. I know I need to divert her attention.

“You know, Hopi,” I say, stroking her hair. “Mommy has planned something special for her princess today.”

Her eyes light up with curiosity, and she tilts her head slightly, eager to hear more. “Tell me, Mommy,” she requests, her voice laced with a hint of anticipation, and she forgets about her daddy for a few seconds.

Thank God!

I sigh with relief.

I gently tuck her hair behind her ears, telling her, “We’ll do your favourite work today.”

Her face lights up with a flicker of excitement as she asks, “Painting?” She hugs her favourite toy tightly and beams up at me.

“Yes, painting, sweetheart,” I confirm, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. She’s so adorable, I can kiss her face all the time.

“Let’s do it.” Hope claps her hands and bounces on the bed with excitement, causing me to chuckle.

I remind her, “But first, it’s time to brush your teeth and have breakfast with Mommy, Hopi.”

“Okay, Mommy,” she agrees, nodding her head and pecking my cheek.

I envelop her in my warm arms and kiss her forehead before getting up and leading her to the bathroom, carrying her on my back. After settling her on the counter, I apply toothpaste to her brush and hand it to her.

As she brushes her teeth, swinging her legs playfully, I admire her. Her wavy hair is open, and she is decked up in her blue nightgown. She is so beautiful and precious to me.

Once she finishes brushing, she rinses her mouth, and I lovingly wipe her face with a towel.

“Mommy, are my teeth really clean?” She asks, giving me a toothy grin and pointing her finger at her teeth.

“Yes, super clean.” I give her a thumbs-up, pulling her cheek and eliciting a giggle from her.

***

Hope sits on the floor, absorbed in her painting. She’s got a bunch of paint colours and a tray all around her. Meanwhile, I’m sitting on the bed, admiring her. Although she is creating more mess than doing actual painting, she looks incredibly adorable with colour on her face, on her clothes and hands.

Hope and I live in a small apartment for rent. I had to leave my job when Hope was born because she needed me. It was quite hard to pay rent and take care of Hope alone when I left my job, but Ella, the friend I made during my job, helped me a lot. Now, for three years, I have been working as a freelance content writer online and earning pretty well. But I know I need more money because Hope is growing up, her expenses are increasing, and I want to provide her with the best possible life. So, I have been thinking about the idea of finding a stable job with a steady income.

As Hope giggles and splashes paint on the paper, I can’t resist capturing some pictures of her. She playfully poses for the camera, pouting and winking at me.

That’s my girl, always ready to shine.

She has the magical power to take away all the stress of my life. No matter how my mood is, seeing her face, a smile spreads across my face and I forget about everything. She is like a star in my life.

Her open hair keeps falling onto her face, causing a bit of frustration. I watch her pout as she repeatedly pushes it away. She doesn’t let me tie her hair because she likes to keep them open always. She is so stubborn sometimes, but I’m her mother. I’m more stubborn than her.

I stand up, retrieve a rubber band from the drawer, and kneel behind her.

As I run my hand to tuck her hair, she stops me, “Mommy, don’t make a pony. I love my hair open, you know that.”

“But your hair keeps disturbing you while you paint, princess,” I explain while gently tying her hair into a ponytail. “After we finish painting, I’ll let you open your hair again. Okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.” As she replies, moving her head, her ponytail bounces with her words, and I plant a loving kiss on her head.

I tidy up the surrounding mess, and she calls out in excitement. “Mommy, look.” She shows me her drawing of two flowers—one in pink and the other in red.

“It’s amazing, baby!” I praise her, and she grins, revealing her milky teeth.

“Thank you, Mommy!” She exclaims, jumping onto my lap and hugging me tightly. She cups my face with her tiny hands and plants a sweet kiss on my lips.

Her hands are covered in paint, and as she holds my face, she accidentally smears some on me. But I don’t care. Instead, I shower her cheeks with kisses.

***

Hope’s P.O.V.

I sit in the back seat of the cab with Mommy, my small legs dangling above the floor. The car ride to school always makes me feel upset because I don’t want to leave her behind when we reach the school. I wish I could stay with her all day long, playing and cuddling.

Why do kids have to go to school?

“Sweetheart, it’s just a few hours,” Mommy explains, holding my hand, and I pout at her, feeling like crying.

“Hopi misses you so much in school.” I squeeze her hand tightly, not wanting to let go. I want to be with her every minute of the day.

“Mommy misses you too, princess.” She whispers, brushing a strand of hair away from my face.

“Then why do I have to go to school every day?” I frown at her.

“To learn new things, make friends, and have lots of fun,” she explains to me, caressing my hair before hugging me.

The car stops at the school, making me more upset. I look at Mommy with pleading eyes, hoping she will change her mind and take me back home.

“Don’t be upset, Hopi.” She says, setting my hair and giving me a reassuring smile. “It’s just about a few hours. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it like always.”

“I enjoy with you more, Mommy.”

“I know, princess,” she replies with a tender smile. “But you’ll have so much fun with your friends and teachers.“

She comes out of the car, carrying me and my backpack. I am going to miss her warm arms for a few hours.

As we reach in front of my classroom, she puts me down and crouches down to my level. “Mommy will be waiting for you after school. Enjoy the day to the fullest.” She cups my face and kisses my forehead before hanging the bag on my shoulders.

“I love you, Mommy.” I embrace her, wrapping my tiny hands around her neck.

“Mommy loves you more.” She holds me tighter in her arms.

As we pull apart, she stands up and waves at me with a broad smile on her face. “I’ll see you after school.”

“Ta-ta.” I wave at her and give her a flying kiss, and her smile broadens.

She gestures to me through her eyes to go inside the classroom. I look at her for the last time with longing eyes and turn to walk inside.

Inside the classroom, I see other kids, some of them crying and clinging to their parents. I see the teacher, Miss Emily, with a warm smile on her face. She kneels and greets me.

***

I missed mommy the entire day in school, and when the last bell rings, I smile to the fullest. “Finally, I’ll be with Mommy,” I squeal and clap with joy at the thought of seeing her.

Carrying my backpack over my shoulders, I reach the gate of the school with my teacher and other students from my class.

My eyes scan the crowd, searching for the familiar figure of Mommy, but I can’t spot her.

“She is late today,” I murmur, pouting sadly.

Suddenly, my eyes fall on the ice-cream van, and my mouth waters in anticipation of eating it. I walk towards it without looking around, licking my lower lip. But just as I’m about to reach there, a strange man pushes me aside, startling me.