When Blair and Rob got divorced two years before, she thought that she had gotten out of her personal hell and found freedom. But when her ex-husband calls her with an offer that she can’t refuse because of their daughter, Lily… Blair has some big decisions to make.
When I divorced Rob two years ago, I thought I had finally gotten rid of him. I remember the day like it was yesterday.
Sitting in the courtroom with my lawyer’s voice droning on as the judge granted me full custody of our daughter, Lily, who was only four at the time. I walked out of there with nothing but a beat-up suitcase and the freedom I had been craving for years. And most importantly, our daughter with me.
Rob was a controlling, manipulative man, and had this knack for turning everything I did into some sort of flaw.
But I was free, finally.
I moved into a little rental apartment, and Lily and I started to build a new life. It wasn’t perfect, and kind of run-down, but it was ours. For the first time in a long time, I could breathe.
“It’s nice, Mom,” Lily said one morning when I gave her some jam on toast.
“What’s nice, darling?” I asked.
“This,” she said, waving her arms around. “Living here with only you. Dad was too angry all the time.”
My heart melted. We didn’t have much, but at least my child was at peace, too.
“I know, honey, but in this home, there’s no room for anger. Okay?” I said.
She grinned at me and nodded, licking the jam off her fingers.
But then, our lives took a bit of an unexpected turn.
A few months ago, Rob reappeared. At first, it was the usual stuff that I had expected after I got full custody of our daughter. He would call to ask about Lily, send over a takeout dinner that he knew we’d like, and sometimes there would be a random text asking if I needed help with something.
I ignored most of it, thinking that he would eventually move on. But then, he made me an offer that, on the surface, seemed impossible to refuse.
“I want to buy you a house. For you and Lily, Blair,” he said one day over the phone. “It’ll be in your name, of course. But Lily deserves a real home, not some rental that won’t ever be home.”
I should have known better than to trust Rob. I mean, I did know better. But a house? For Lily?
As problematic as Rob was, he was offering us a stable place where she could grow up, close to her school, with a backyard to run around in.
How could I ignore that?
The idea was hard to turn down, especially since he was offering it with no strings attached.
At least, that’s what he said.
So, Rob bought the house. And it was beautiful. It was exactly what I wanted for Lily. It was close to her school, as Rob promised. It had a huge yard and enough space for us to grow into. For a little while, it seemed like maybe Rob had changed.
Maybe he really just wanted to do something good for his daughter.
Or that was what I told myself, anyway.
But of course, that’s when things started to change.
First, it was the keys.
Rob had a set, which he justified by saying he needed to “check up on the place” while we were out.
“Look, Blair,” he said. “Wouldn’t you like to know that the basic maintenance of the house is taken care of? And you wouldn’t even have to worry about paying for it. I’ll take care of the dishwasher, I know it’s broken.”
At first, I didn’t think too much of it. But then, the “check-ups” started happening more frequently. I’d come home to find things rearranged, books on the shelves moved, dishes stacked differently, even Lily’s toys lined up in some creepy, orderly fashion.
Then came the notes.
Suddenly, there were little Post-its left all over the house, criticizing how I was keeping it.
“The floors could use a mop.”
“The garden is looking untidy and overgrown.”
And then he began commenting on my dating life, leaving notes about how “disrespectful” it was to have male friends over while Lily was home. It felt like he was in my space even when he wasn’t there.
But the final straw? The cleaning schedule he drew up.
How could I forget the day when I came home to find the cleaning schedule taped to the fridge? It was color-coded, with specific times for when I should clean the windows, vacuum, and dust the house. All down to the hour. Completely ignoring my job.
There were even instructions for how often Lily and I should shower to “maintain the house’s cleanliness.”
“What the actual heck, Rob?” I muttered as I removed the schedule from the fridge and began to make grilled chicken and veggies for our dinner.
“What’s that?” Lily asked as she came into the kitchen and saw me tearing the schedule.
“Dad left a schedule behind for us. To clean,” I said.
“Eww,” she giggled. “Why do we have to listen to Dad?”