Katherine and I met at Henderson Tech Solutions. She was this fierce project manager who could make grown programmers cry with a single glance, and I was just another designer trying not to stare at her during meetings.
Katherine’s parents came from old money — the kind of money that made problems disappear. Her father, Robert, owned half the commercial real estate in Millbrook County.
So we kept it professional for exactly three months before I couldn’t take it anymore.
“This is stupid,” I told her one evening as we worked late again. “I can’t concentrate on anything when you’re around.”
She looked up from her laptop, those glassy eyes sparkling. “Then quit!”
Katherine and I met at Henderson Tech Solutions. She was this fierce project manager who could make grown programmers cry with a single glance, and I was just another designer trying not to stare at her during meetings.
Katherine’s parents came from old money — the kind of money that made problems disappear. Her father, Robert, owned half the commercial real estate in Millbrook County.
So we kept it professional for exactly three months before I couldn’t take it anymore.
“This is stupid,” I told her one evening as we worked late again. “I can’t concentrate on anything when you’re around.”
She looked up from her laptop, those glassy eyes sparkling. “Then quit!”
That afternoon, I drove to Ashford Heights where Katherine’s parents lived in a mansion that could house three families. I parked across the street and waited.
Two days of nothing. On the third day, a silver SUV pulled into the circular driveway. The driver got out, walked to the front door, and let herself in with her own key.
It was Katherine… my “dead” wife.
An hour later, she emerged as I waited by her car.
“Hello, Katherine.”
She froze, the car keys falling from her hand. “SCOTT?!”
“Four years. You let me mourn you for four years. You let me cry at your funeral. You let me explain to our four-year-old daughter why Mommy wasn’t coming home.”
Tears streamed down her face. “I can explain—”
“Get in the car. We’re going to talk.”
She followed me to my car without protest. We drove to Riverside Park where I used to bring Bella to feed the ducks.
“Start talking,” I said.
Katherine wiped her eyes. “I never wanted to be a mother, Scott. I tried to tell you, but you were so excited, and I thought maybe I’d grow into it. But after Bella was born, I felt trapped… and suffocated. I was drowning, and I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“So you decided to fake your death instead?”
“I asked my father for help. He said he could make it all go away. New identity, new life abroad. I thought it would be better for everyone.”
“Better for everyone?” I laughed bitterly. “Do you know what our daughter asked me last month? She asked if she was the reason Mommy went to heaven. A four-year-old thinks she killed her mother.”
Katherine sobbed. “I didn’t think…”
“No, you didn’t. You just ran away like a coward. Why come back now?”
“I saw her picture on my mother’s phone recently. She looks so much like me. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. So I made the bear from my old sweater and left it at the daycare. I just wanted her to have something… something to remind her that I loved her.”
“And the note in my house?”
“I used my old key. I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t throw the bear away. I thought… I thought maybe I could try again. Be the mother Bella deserves.”
I stared at this woman who had been my whole world. “You don’t get to break someone and then waltz back in with craft projects. If you want to be a mother, you commit. All in. No running when it gets hard.”
“I know. I need time to think.”
“You have two days.”
The text came 36 hours later: “I’m sorry. This was a mistake. I won’t come back.”
That’s when I made my decision.
I sent the security footage to my lawyer — clear shots of Katherine’s face, her car, and her casual stroll through my front door. Then I filed a civil suit against Robert for psychological trauma, emotional abuse, fraud, and falsification of official documents.
I also demanded four years of child support from Katherine.
The case made headlines. “Local CEO Fakes Daughter’s Death.” The investigation revealed forged DNA evidence, bribed officials, and a web of lies that reached into the highest levels of Millbrook County government.
Katherine’s new identity crumbled. Her passport was flagged and her accounts were frozen. The woman who wanted to disappear got her wish… but just not the way she planned.
Meanwhile, Robert’s empire collapsed overnight. Turns out, when you’re a “respectable” businessman who fakes deaths and bribes coroners, people lose faith in your integrity.
Yesterday, I got a call from the district attorney, a longtime friend of mine.
“Scott, Katherine has agreed to a plea deal. She’ll serve 18 months and pay full restitution for child support. Her father is looking at five to 10 years.”
“Good.”
“There’s one more thing. She asked if she could write a letter to your daughter.”
“Absolutely not.”
That evening, I tucked Bella into bed with her new bear… a beige one I picked out myself. Something soft. Something for new beginnings.
“Daddy, why do people leave?” she asked.
“Sometimes people make bad choices, sweetheart. But the people who love you stick around, no matter what.”
“You’ll never leave me, right?”
“Never. I’m your shield, remember? Nothing bad gets past me.”
She smiled and hugged the bear tighter. “I love you, Daddy!”
“I love you too, baby girl.”
As I turned off the light, I made a promise to myself and to her: no one would ever hurt my daughter like that again. No one.
Some people think love means never having to say goodbye. I learned that real love means never leaving in the first place.