Seven Times He Chose Her Dog Over Us

After Heath Renwick abandons me and our daughter for Celeste Worthing's dog for the seventh time, we finally learn our lesson. He parades around with Celeste and the dog, trending online, landing magazine features, and I don't say a word. He even tears up our daughter Maisie's favorite sketchbook to line the dog's bed, and she doesn't cry or make a fuss. Then the dog chases Maisie down a flight of stairs. She hits her head and ends up in the ER with a concussion, and only then does Heath bother to show up. "Raven! Why didn't you tell me? I'm Maisie's father too!" I spend the whole night sitting outside the emergency room. I look at him, my voice perfectly calm. "It's nothing serious, just a mild concussion. She'll be out in a couple of days. We know you're busy, so Maisie will understand." Heath freezes. "A concussion is serious, and you're telling me it's nothing? What kind of a mother are you?" He wants to blow up, but the whispers around him stop him short. "Mr. Renwick really is better suited for Ms. Worthing. If she hadn't gone abroad back then, a small-town woman like Raven would never have had a chance." "Exactly. She can't even keep her own child safe." Heath frowns. "There's nothing going on with Celeste. She's like a sister to me!" I nod. "I believe you. "Maisie fell down the stairs because Prince chased her. I know that dog means everything to Celeste, so I didn't bring it up. I didn't want to put you in a difficult position." A flicker of shame crosses Heath's face. "I'll find the best doctor for Maisie. Prince is everything to Celeste, you know that. She has mental health issues." "Mr. Renwick, I understand. Maisie doesn't need to call you Dad anymore." He panics. "If you're upset, just say so! Stop putting on this act and dragging the kid into it!" I nod. "Okay. I got it." I'm not planning to make a scene. I already have plane tickets to Eraly. In five days, we'll have nothing to do with each other anymore. Chapter 1 Maisie woke up in the middle of the night. The first thing she said when she opened her eyes was, "Mommy, don't tell Daddy I'm in the hospital. I don't want him to get mad at me." Heath Renwick pushed the door open right at that moment. He heard every word, and by the time he reached her bedside, his voice was tight. "Maisie, I don't need to be with Prince today. I'll stay with you." Maisie looked at him for a long moment, then shrank back behind me. "Mr. Renwick." The color drained from Heath's face, leaving him paler than Maisie in the hospital bed. He opened his mouth to say something, but his phone rang. Celeste's voice came through, teary and loud enough to fill the entire room. "Heath, Prince threw up. Can you come look at him? I'm scared." He looked at his daughter in the bed, then back at his phone. "Wait for me. I'll be right back." Then he tucked the blanket around Maisie and said, "I'll bring you a strawberry cake later." Maisie didn't say anything. She'd had a dairy allergy since she was little and always had to pick the frosting off cakes. He never remembered. His footsteps faded down the hallway, and Maisie stared at the empty doorway. "Mommy, does Mr. Renwick not like me?" I stroked her hair. "It's not that he doesn't like you. He just found something he likes more." In the early hours of the morning, Celeste posted on social media. "With you here, I'm not afraid of anything." The photo was a side shot of Heath feeding Prince his medication, his brow furrowed, focused and gentle. I liked the post. Heath didn't come to pick us up the day Maisie was discharged. When we got home, I found out he hadn't just skipped the pickup. He'd given the master bedroom to Celeste and Prince. Our things had been packed into two suitcases and left outside the smaller bedroom on the north side of the house. I stood below and watched as someone took down our wedding photo. It had hung there for eight years. When it came down, it left a pale rectangle on the wall. Heath happened to walk by and took the frame. I thought he was going to say something, but he just wiped the dust off with his sleeve and handed it to the housekeeper. "Put it away somewhere. Don't let it get damaged." Then he turned to me. "Seeing the wedding photos upsets Celeste. Just be the bigger person." He'd been telling me that for eight years, about dresses, about perfume, and now about our bedroom. I asked him, "Heath, if I keep being the bigger person, what do I have left?" He thought about it and answered, completely serious. "You still have me." That night, for the first time in forever, he made me a bowl of pasta with a poached egg on top. It was something he'd learned to make for me back when we first got together. I'd barely picked up my fork when Celeste came downstairs with Prince. "That smells amazing." Heath pushed the bowl toward her. "Here, have some. There's more on the stove." There wasn't more. He'd only made one bowl. Celeste took a couple of bites, then set the bowl on the floor. "Prince wants some too." That was my mother's porcelain bowl. I watched Prince bury his snout in it, lapping everything up. Heath didn't stop him. He even laughed. "Slow down, boy. Nobody's going to take it from you." I got up and went upstairs. Maisie was waiting for me in the room and pulled half a bread roll out of her backpack. "Mommy, they gave us snacks at school. I saved this for you." The bread was a little stale. I ate it with a glass of water. Later that night, Heath came to the room and wrapped his arms around me from behind. "Don't be mad at me. Once Celeste gets better, I'll send her and Prince home, and things will go back to how they were." The smell of dog food still clung to him. I gave a faint nod. Chapter 2 Half a bread roll wasn't enough to keep the hunger away. That night, when I was in the shower, everything went black, and I collapsed on the bathroom floor. I woke up in the hospital. Maisie was slumped over the edge of my bed, her eyes red and swollen. "Mom, you were throwing up blood." She held up her small hand and touched the IV line by the bed. "I've been warming it with my hands so the medicine won't be so cold." It was acute gastric bleeding, and the surgery required a family member's signature. I had Maisie call Heath, but she dialed over a dozen times before he picked up, and the background noise was deafening. "I'm at the vet. Prince is getting tests done, and I can't leave. Just have your mom sign it herself. She's not a child." Maisie held the phone and said softly, "Daddy, Mommy's bleeding a lot." Heath paused for a beat. "I'll come when I'm done." By the time he showed up, I'd already signed the forms myself and was hooked up to an IV. He stood at the foot of the bed, studying my face with a frown. "How did you get this thin?" There was genuine concern in his voice, but before I could say anything, Celeste's call came through. "Heath, Prince has to stay overnight for observation, and I'm scared of being here alone." The concern vanished from his face instantly. "I'm on my way." He made it to the door before stopping to look back at me. "Raven, you're young. You can handle it. Prince is different. He'd die without Celeste." The door closed behind him. Maisie leaned against my bed and whispered, "Mommy, did Daddy get confused? You're the one who's sick." The day after I was discharged, Prince fell into the swimming pool. Celeste held the dripping wet dog and sobbed so hard she was shaking. "Raven was the only one who went to the garden today… I'm not blaming her. I'm sure she didn't push Prince on purpose." It was the dead of winter. Prince had inhaled water, and the vet said even a pet could develop lasting trauma from something like that. Heath stood in the middle of the living room, his expression dark. "Raven. Apologize." "I didn't push him. There are cameras in the garden. Go check the footage yourself." Celeste cut in through her tears. "The cameras stopped working a couple of days ago. But it's not Raven's fault, it really isn't." The more she talked, the more worked up she got. She scooped Prince into her arms and headed for the door. "I'll take him and go! We'll leave right now!" Heath grabbed her to stop her, then turned to me with a look so cold it was almost frightening. "When did you become this kind of person? You're picking a fight with a dog! "Prince is too shaken up to eat. You're going to cook for him, and you're going to keep at it until he does." So, I did. I lost count of how many times I tried before Prince finally ate out of my hand. And when he finished, he turned around and bit me so hard that blood ran down my fingers. Heath heard the commotion and came running. His first instinct was to cradle Prince's mouth open. "Are you okay? Did you chip a tooth?" Once he'd confirmed Prince was fine, he finally glanced at my hand, still dripping blood. "How can you be so careless?" That night, he came to my room with a tube of ointment. Without a word, he took my hand and started applying it, slow and careful. His touch was gentle. "I'm sorry. I didn't know he'd bite you. If it hurts, just say so. You don't have to tough it out with me." The light in the room was dim. He sat with his head bowed, and for a moment he looked exactly like the boy from 11 years ago, the one who used to pop the blisters on my feet after we'd spent all day working at flea markets together. I almost believed it again. Then I noticed the new ring on his left hand. Celeste had posted on social media that afternoon. "Thank you for the gift. The three of us, together forever." The photo showed three rings. The largest one was on Heath's finger, and the smallest was looped around Prince's paw. I pulled my hand back. "It's done. You can go." Not long after he left, Celeste knocked on my door. She waved what looked like a photocopy of my visa application in front of me, smiling like she knew exactly what it meant. "Raven, are you applying for a visa?" I'd left it in the study by accident. I didn't say anything. She wasn't bothered. She turned on her heel and went downstairs to tell Heath. I heard him laugh from the first floor. "Her? A visa? She can barely string a sentence together in another language. Where would she even go without me? "Let her throw her little tantrum. She'll come back on her own when she's over it." I stood at the turn of the staircase and listened to every word. Then I went back to my room and pushed the signed divorce papers a little deeper into the drawer. There was no rush. Soon enough, he'd find out exactly where I could go. Chapter 3 That night, Prince tumbled down the stairs and broke one of his legs. Celeste clutched the dog and cried until she nearly passed out. "It was Maisie. She said she hated Prince, and when I wasn't looking, she pushed him down the stairs! I don't blame her; she's just a child. This is all my fault… I never should have moved in." She started throwing herself at the wall, and it took people physically holding her back to stop her. Maisie's face went white. She'd dropped her pencil on the floor and was too scared to even pick it up, shaking her head over and over. "I didn't! I was in my room the whole time practicing my spelling. My teacher's checking it tomorrow! "Dad, I really didn't!" Heath looked at Maisie, then down at Celeste, who'd fainted in his arms. "Maisie. Apologize to Prince." "I didn't push him!" It was the first time Maisie had ever talked back to him. Heath raised his hand and slapped her across the face. Her head snapped to the side, and her cheek swelled up immediately. I threw myself in front of her and pulled her behind me. That slap hurt worse than if he'd hit me instead. "Heath! She's six years old!" "Six years old and already pushing a dog down the stairs. Imagine what she'll be like when she's older." His chest heaved, his eyes bloodshot. "You raised a real winner." Celeste came to right on cue, barely conscious, her voice barely there. "Heath, Prince won't eat anything. The vet says he's traumatized and needs someone to comfort him." She lifted her tear-streaked eyes and looked at me. "Raven, you're such a generous person. Could you maybe bark for Prince a couple of times? Just to cheer him up." The living room went dead silent for a moment. Then someone laughed. "That's a great idea. Mrs. Renwick's been so obedient lately anyway." Heath didn't laugh. He looked at me, his throat working. "Raven, just do it for me." For him? 11 years ago, when he'd been hospitalized with a bleeding ulcer, I got on my knees and begged the doctor to save him. Eight years ago, when his business went under, I worked 14-hour days at flea markets to keep him afloat. And now he wanted me to get on my knees and bark for a dog. There were only a few days left anyway. I lowered myself slowly, kneeling in front of Prince. "Woof." The room erupted in laughter. Someone held up a phone to record. "Woof, woof." Celeste's tears turned into a delighted smile, and she clapped her hands, saying Prince was reacting. Maisie ran over crying and pulled at me. "Mom, stop! Let's just go, Mom!" I stroked her hair as my tears hit the floor. "If I do what I'm told, then your dad will like us again." Heath stood at the back of the crowd, his face turned away, his right fist clenched so tight his knuckles had gone white. That night, well past midnight, he came to my room. He didn't turn on the light. He just wrapped his arms around me from behind and held on tight. "I'm sorry." His voice was wrecked. "Raven, just give me a little more time." "Heath." I cut him off. "The day after tomorrow is our anniversary. Have dinner with Maisie and me, just the three of us." He was quiet for a long time before pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Okay." I lay in the dark with my eyes open until dawn, looking forward to seeing his face when he got the divorce papers. Chapter 4 That afternoon, I cooked a whole spread. Maisie put on a new dress and secretly slipped a family photo into her pocket. "One last present for Dad!" By 3:00 pm, Heath still wasn't home. At 4:00 pm, Celeste's screaming echoed through the house. She was standing at the top of the stairs with Prince in her arms, his newly mended leg covered in blood. "Maisie kicked him again! She waited until I wasn't looking and kicked his bad leg! "I can't even keep Prince safe. What's the point of me being alive?" She ran into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and dragged it toward her wrist before someone caught her and held her back. Heath rushed home to that scene, and his eyes landed on Maisie. "I didn't! Dad, I was helping Mom set the table the whole time!" Maisie scrambled behind me, terrified. Heath closed his eyes. "Lock her in the storage shed out back. She can think about what she did for an hour. She comes out when she's ready to admit she was wrong." I thought I'd heard him wrong. "Heath, Maisie has asthma. That shed is cold and damp, and she could have an attack. She's out of her medication, and she's your daughter!" "It's just an hour. It's not going to kill her." He carried Celeste toward the door, Prince bundled in his jacket. "If anything happens to Celeste, you two are going to answer for it." The bodyguard came to take Maisie. I dropped to my knees and grabbed Heath's legs. "Please, I'm begging you. Lock me up instead. I'll take her place. I'll do anything." He pried my fingers off, one by one. "Raven, this is exactly why she's like this. You spoil her too much. This will teach her. It's for her own good." The front door closed. The headlights disappeared down the driveway. I ran toward the back of the property like I'd lost my mind. The shed had an iron door, and the only key was with Heath. I smashed at it with a rock, threw my shoulder against it, and tore my nails off trying. Both my hands were slick with blood. From inside, Maisie's crying grew weaker with every breath. "Mommy, I'm cold… And I can't breathe." I grabbed the gardener's phone and called Heath, but it took three tries before he picked up. The sounds of a hospital blared in the background. "Raven, Celeste is in the emergency room. Can you stop making everything about you? The hour's almost up." He hung up. Behind the iron door, Maisie's voice faded to almost nothing. "Mommy… The picture… Don't forget to give Dad the picture." Then there was silence. Heath came home at 9:00 pm that night. He pushed open the shed door, still talking. "All right, the hour's been over for a while now. You can stop pretending to be asleep. Get up. Tomorrow you're going to apologize to Celeste, and then we'll put this whole thing behind—" His voice died in his throat. Maisie was slumped against the wall in the corner, her eyes closed, her small face blue-white. In one hand she clutched the family photo. In the other, she held a small piece of cake wrapped in a napkin, with the words "Happy anniversary Mom and Dad" scrawled across it in wobbly lines of jam. I was kneeling beside her. I'd been there for a long time, long enough for my tears to run dry, long enough for my body to go as cold as hers. Heath stumbled forward and reached for her face, checking for breath. His whole body seized with a violent shudder. "Maisie? "Maisie, I'm here. Look at me, sweetheart."