The Best Revenge It Wasn't Even Your Child novel Chapter 1

It was past midnight when Catherine White posted a photo of a newborn on her feed, the caption simple and bright. I’m a mom now.

She barely had time to read the first round of comments before someone started banging on her door. Less than an hour after her post went up, her ex-husband—divorced for six months now—showed up uninvited.

When Catherine opened the door, she found Lance Green standing there, his expression so cold it sucked the warmth right out of her cramped two-bedroom rental. She gripped the doorknob tighter, her voice low. “Why are you here?”

Lance didn’t answer, just stepped inside like he owned the place. His polished shoes looked out of place on her old, flower-print linoleum. It wasn’t the first time he’d been here, and he didn’t bother waiting for an invitation—he headed straight for her bedroom.

His assistant, Aaron, trailed behind, holding out a folder. “Catherine, it’s been a while. This is a custody agreement. Lance’s lawyer drafted it overnight.”

She took the paperwork, flipping it open with numb fingers. Just as she thought, Lance was coming for custody. He wasn’t completely heartless though—she could keep the baby until they turned three, but only if she agreed. If she said no, he’d take the child tonight.

A dull ache settled in Catherine’s chest, spreading until she felt hollow. She barely registered Lance coming back out of the bedroom.

“Where’s the baby?” he asked.

Catherine remembered the man she’d married two years ago—silent, distant, always unreadable. Lance had only proposed because of an accident, a night neither of them planned. He wanted to do the right thing. She’d said yes because she’d been in love with him for six years.

Now, at this moment, she realized how little that had ever mattered. He barely said anything, even now. Wasn’t there anything else he wanted to ask her? Anything he wanted to say?

Aaron caught her eye, sympathy softening his features. Sensing the tension, he slipped out and closed the door behind him.

The apartment felt even smaller, the silence pressing in. Catherine let out a small, bitter laugh, breaking the quiet.

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