He Chose His Comrade’s Widow Over Our Child’s Birthday Chapter 03

3 Days Until We Left

Today was the awards ceremony for the Colors of Tomorrow Children’s Art Competition.

Mia sat in the front row of the gallery wearing the princess dress I’d bought her just for the occasion. Her eyes never left the entrance.

I sat beside her, holding her slightly sweaty hand as a familiar ache tightened in my chest.

I already knew he wasn’t coming.

But children always held on to hope. No matter how many times they were disappointed, they still believed their father would show up for the moments that mattered.

“Mom,” Mia whispered, “Dad promised he’d be here to watch me get my award.”

I didn’t answer.

I only squeezed her hand a little tighter.

Ten minutes before the ceremony started, my phone lit up.

A message from Julian.

[Something came up at work. I can’t get away. Tell Mia I’m sorry.]

The same excuse.

The same broken promise.

I flipped my phone face-down on my lap and said nothing.

Mia glanced toward the entrance again.

“Maybe he’s stuck in traffic.”

The ceremony began right on schedule.

The host stepped onto the stage with a smile.

“And now, it’s time to announce the Grand Prize winner of this year’s Colors of Tomorrow Children’s Art Competition!”

Mia’s fingers tightened around mine.

“The winning artwork is… My Dad in the Firelight!”

The giant screen behind the stage lit up.

Mia’s painting appeared.

In the picture, Julian stood in his firefighter’s gear, silhouetted against blazing flames.

She had spent half a month working on that painting.

Every brushstroke had been filled with admiration for her father.

Mia shot to her feet.

“Mom! That’s my painting!”

I smiled and started to guide her toward the stage.

Then the host continued.

“Please welcome our winner, Leo Vance, to the stage!”

Mia froze.

The smile vanished from her face.

My gaze snapped to the lower corner of the screen.

The name displayed beneath the painting wasn’t Mia Thorne.

It was Leo Vance.

My daughter’s artwork had been entered under Vivian’s son’s name.

Mia stood motionless.

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Nearby parents exchanged confused looks.

“Why did that little girl stand up?”

“Didn’t they call Leo Vance?”

Mia heard every word.

Slowly, she sat back down and lowered her head.

My fists clenched.

Without hesitation, I headed toward the family seating section.

Vivian was already standing with Leo, adjusting his bow tie.

I stepped directly into her path.

“Vivian Rhodes. Stop right there.”

She looked up, her smile still lingering.

“Oh, Chloe. You’re here too?”

I stared her down.

“That painting belongs to my daughter. Why is your son’s name on it?”

Vivian immediately took a step back.

Her voice softened.

“Chloe, please don’t be upset. Julian handled everything personally. I don’t know anything about it.”

Then she leaned closer.

A smug smile curled across her lips.

Only the two of us could hear her.

“But honestly, does it matter who painted it?”

“What matters is who Julian chooses to treasure.”

She glanced toward the stage.

“Your daughter stayed up night after night working on that painting. So what?”

“One word from Julian, and all her hard work became Leo’s.”

“That’s what happens when someone truly loves you. You can be as angry as you want, but it won’t change the fact that Julian doesn’t care about you or your daughter.”

My blood boiled.

“You’re unbelievable.”

My hand flew before I could stop it.

Slap.

Vivian’s head snapped to the side.

She cried out and grabbed her cheek.

I reached for her arm, intending to drag her to the event organizers.

Before I could, someone charged between us.

A powerful shove sent me stumbling backward.

“Chloe! What the hell is wrong with you?”

My lower back slammed into a chair.

Pain shot through me.

I looked up.

Julian.

He stood protectively in front of Vivian and Leo, glaring at me with bloodshot eyes.

Vivian immediately buried herself against his chest.

“Julian, it hurts…”

Her voice trembled.

“Don’t blame Chloe. This is my fault. Leo shouldn’t have accepted the award. I’ll give it back to her.”

Julian noticed the red handprint on Vivian’s cheek.

His expression darkened instantly.

Pulling her closer, he pointed at me.

“Have you lost your mind, Chloe?”

“You hit someone in public?”

“Do you have any idea how ridiculous you’re acting right now? You’re acting like a complete psycho.”

I forced myself upright, gripping the back of a chair.

“That painting took Mia two weeks to finish.”

“You put Leo’s name on it.”

“And now you’re shoving me for this woman?”

“It’s just a painting!” Julian snapped.

“Mia can paint another one.”

His voice grew harder.

“Leo grew up without a father.”

“He gets bullied at school.”

“He needs achievements like this to build confidence.”

My chest tightened.

Julian continued.

“Caleb died saving my life.”

“I owe him.”

“If I give one award to his son, what’s the problem?”

“You’re an adult. Show some compassion.”

“Instead, you hit Vivian. You’re completely unreasonable.”

Unreasonable.

Psycho.

My daughter had her artwork stolen.

The painting she made of her father had been stolen.

And when I tried to stand up for her, her own father knocked me to the ground to defend another woman.

I stopped arguing.

What was the point?

There was no reasoning with a man who refused to see the truth.

An event staff member led Leo onto the stage.

He raised the trophy high while standing in front of Mia’s painting, smiling proudly for the cameras.

Nearby, Vivian leaned comfortably against Julian’s shoulder.

The corner of her mouth lifted in satisfaction.

Then she accepted the microphone.

Tears instantly filled her eyes.

“Everything Leo has today is thanks to his godfather, Captain Thorne.”

Her voice cracked dramatically.

“Captain Thorne has treated us better than family.”

Julian let out a quiet sigh.

“Mom.”

A small voice called from behind me.

I turned.

Mia stood several feet away.

She looked at Leo holding the trophy.

At Vivian nestled against Julian.

At me, still clutching my aching back.

“Mia…”

I reached toward her.

She took a step away.

Then she lowered her eyes to the contestant badge pinned to her dress.

Without a word, she tore it off.

Piece by piece.

Then dropped the scraps into a nearby trash can.

She dusted off her hands and looked up at me.

“Mom.”

Her voice was calm.

“Let’s go.”

Her little face was tight with effort as she fought back tears.

My heart shattered.

I walked over, wrapped my arms around her, and held her close.

Without another word, we left.

I didn’t look back.

I didn’t argue.

I didn’t fight.

There was no point.

Not with a man who was blind to everything except the people he chose to love.

Back home, Mia sat quietly in her room for a long time.

Eventually, she opened her writing notebook and began a new essay.

The title read:

[My Dad Gave Away the Picture I Drew of Him and Hurt My Mom for Someone Else]

I opened the airline app.

Then changed our tickets.

Instead of leaving later, I booked the earliest flight the day after.

I couldn’t spend one more day in a city that still contained Julian Thorne.