Lydia was there, too, sitting in a lawn chair and actually smiling, actually relaxed. She’d been making real progress. The therapy was working. The distance from Gwindelyn was working. The fresh start in San Diego was working.
She had Emma every other weekend now, unsupervised, and the visits were going well. Emma actually looked forward to them.
“Daddy! Mommy! Watch this!”
Emma executed a messy cartwheel, ending up tangled in her own legs, but laughing anyway.
“Beautiful, sweet pea,” Spencer called. “Perfect form.”
Lydia added, her enthusiasm genuine if slightly exaggerated.
Later, after the other kids had been picked up by their parents, after the cake was eaten and the presents opened, Lydia helped Spencer clean up while Emma played with her new art supplies on the patio.
“This was nice,” Lydia said, loading paper plates into a trash bag. “Thank you for including me.”
“Emma wanted you here. That’s what matters.”
“Still… I know I don’t deserve—”
“Lydia.” Spencer stopped her. “You’re doing the work. You’re showing up. You’re being the mother Emma needs. That’s enough.”
She nodded, blinking back tears.
“I’m sorry for everything. I know I’ve said it before, but I need you to know I mean it. Mother twisted everything and I let her. And I nearly lost the most important thing in my life.”
“Emma. Both of you. I had a good man, a good life, and I threw it away because I thought I deserved something better—something that looked right to other people.”
“I was an idiot.”
Spencer didn’t disagree, but he didn’t pile on either.
“We can’t change the past. We can only do better going forward.”
“Are you seeing anyone?” The question came out rushed, like she’d been holding it in. “I mean—dating—that’s not really your business anymore. I know. I just… I hope you find someone who appreciates you, someone who deserves you.”
“Worry about Emma, not about my love life.”
Lydia managed a small smile.
“Fair enough.”
Before she left, she hugged Emma goodbye. A real hug that Emma returned enthusiastically.
Progress. Real, measurable progress.
After Lydia drove away, Spencer and Emma settled on the couch with a movie. Emma’s head on his shoulder, her new butterfly stuffed animal clutched in her arms.
“Daddy.”
“Yes, sweet pea?”
“This was the best birthday ever.”
“Even better than last year?” Spencer teased, remembering their chocolate cake and movie celebration after the disastrous party.
“Way better because Mommy was here too and she was happy. I like happy Mommy.”
“Me too, baby.”
“And next year… can Grandma come? She sent me a card and she wrote that she misses me.”
Spencer had seen the card, a simple birthday message, appropriate and restrained, with a $50 check that Gwindelyn probably thought was appropriate but was actually excessive for a six-year-old. Spencer had deposited it into Emma’s college fund.
“Maybe,” Spencer said carefully. “If your therapist thinks it’s a good idea, and if Grandma keeps working on being the kind of grandma you deserve.”
“Okay.”
Emma snuggled closer.
“I’m glad I have you, Daddy.”
“I’m glad I have you too, sweet pea. Always.”
As the movie played, Spencer reflected on the journey from that devastating party to this peaceful evening. He’d lost a marriage, but he’d saved his daughter. He’d lost his illusions about the Mosley family, but he’d gained clarity about what actually mattered.
He’d executed a perfect revenge, but the real victory was sitting beside him—warm and safe and loved.
His phone buzzed with a message from Marcos.
Boss, you seeing the reviews? That food critic from LA Times just posted. Five stars. She called Stella’s the heart of authentic California cuisine.
Spencer smiled but didn’t respond. The restaurants would still be there tomorrow. The business would continue thriving.
Right now, he had a movie to watch and a daughter to hold.
The world didn’t owe him anything. His father had taught him that.
But through hard work, careful planning, and the courage to fight for what mattered, Spencer had built a life worth living.
And sometimes that was the best revenge of all—living well, loving deeply, and protecting what was precious with everything you had.
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