Chapter 3

David finally showed up at my mother's house two days after the funeral.

I had finished dealing with the funeral home, paid for the headstone with my mother's secret savings, and sorted through most of her belongings.

He stood on the porch, looking out of place and hesitant, holding a generic bouquet of flowers that felt like an afterthought.

"I was held up at the base," he said, not quite meeting my eyes.

"A complicated case."

As if that was a new excuse.

What made it worse was that he wasn't alone.

His mother, Mrs. Chen, stood beside him, her face a mask of disapproval.

She swept a critical gaze over the porch, then at my simple black dress.

"Look at this place," she said, her voice sharp and cutting.

"Barely holding together. And you, Sarah, filing for divorce at a time like this. It's shameful. You're just like your father, always causing trouble for everyone around you."

I flinched.

The comparison to my father was her favorite weapon, one she had used since the day David introduced us.

I looked at David, waiting for him to defend me, to tell his mother to stop.

He just shifted uncomfortably.

"Mom, please," he mumbled, his eyes on the ground.

"Not now."

It wasn't a defense.

It was a plea for his own comfort, a desire to avoid a scene.

He was choosing the path of least resistance, just as he always did.

I didn't say anything.

I just took the flowers from his hand, turned around, and shut the door in their faces.

A week later, I was sitting in a small, tidy office, the seal of the city police department on the wall behind the man's head.

Chief Anderson was older, with kind eyes and a face that suggested he'd seen it all.

He reviewed my application, his expression thoughtful.

"You know, you're a bit older than our usual recruits, Mrs. Miller," he said gently.

I didn't correct him on the 'Mrs.'

"I know, Chief," I replied, my voice steady.

"But I'm determined. I'm a fast learner, and I'm in good physical shape. I want this more than anything."

He nodded slowly, looking at me over the rim of his glasses.

"I can see that. There's a fire in you."

Leaving his office with a conditional acceptance for the academy's physical entrance exam, I felt a flicker of hope for the first time in weeks.

As I walked down the main corridor of the municipal building, a familiar voice stopped me cold.

"Sarah?"

I turned.

It was David, looking surprised.

He was in his uniform, clearly there on some official business.

He walked towards me, his brow furrowed.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

"It's none of your business," I said, my voice flat.

I tried to walk past him, but he reached out and grabbed my arm.

His grip was tight.

"Don't do this," he said, his voice a harsh whisper.

"Don't be a cop. Think about my reputation. I'm a respected military officer. How will it look if my wife-my ex-wife-is a rookie cop with a criminal father? It will ruin me."

I stared at his hand on my arm, then back up at his face.

The man I once loved was gone, replaced by this selfish stranger obsessed with appearances.

All the lingering traces of affection I might have had for him evaporated in that moment, leaving behind nothing but cold ash.

I pulled my arm from his grasp with a sharp tug.

"Your reputation," I said, the words dripping with scorn, "is all you've ever cared about.

It cost me my mother, and it cost me my marriage.

You're not going to let it cost me my future, too."

I turned my back on him.

I didn't look back to see the expression on his face.

I just kept walking, my steps sure and even, toward the exit and toward my new life.