I left the hospital carrying my daughter’s ashes when my husband finally called from wherever he was with his mistress and coldly said, “The bill has been taken care of. Stop bothering me.” I didn’t argue with him. I didn’t allow him to hear my voice break.

I looked toward Chloe’s white urn resting on the sunny windowsill.

“My forgiveness cannot give her those lost days back.”

Brendan covered his face completely, but I felt no satisfaction watching him finally understand what his negligence had cost us.

Chloe’s death was not something I could turn into a weapon simply because I now possessed enough financial power to hurt him.

“I want the divorce finalized, Brendan,” I stated firmly.

“I can fix this between us,” he pleaded.