Chapter 13
Mark was released from prison three weeks after our wedding.
We didn't hear from him.
We didn't see him.
Life went on, beautiful and peaceful and normal.
David and I settled into married life.
It was nothing like my marriage to Mark.
With Mark, everything had been about him. His needs, his ego, his insecurities. I'd had to shrink myself to make him feel big. I'd had to hide parts of who I was—my ambition, my strength, my rank—to make him feel like the man of the house.
With David, everything was equal.
He respected my career. He celebrated my successes. When I was promoted to major general a year after our wedding, he threw me a party and told everyone how proud he was of me.
He didn't see my strength as a threat. He saw it as something to admire.
And he was an incredible father to Grace.
He was there for everything. Her first steps, her first words, her first day of preschool. He went to all her school events, he taught her to ride a bike, he read her bedtime stories every single night.
Grace called him Daddy.
She didn't know any different. And as far as I was concerned, he was her father in every way that mattered.
We talked about when to tell her about Mark. We agreed that we would, when she was old enough to understand. But for now, she had David, and that was more than enough.
Mrs. Rivera moved into the guesthouse we built for her in the backyard. She was getting older, and we wanted her close. She loved being near Grace, and Grace loved having her Abuela just a few steps away.
Life was good.
Almost too good.
I sometimes found myself waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something to go wrong. For Mark to reappear and try to destroy everything we'd built.
But he didn't.
Three years passed.
Grace turned four. She was smart and funny and stubborn, with a head full of curly hair and a smile that could light up a room.
David had been promoted too, now Sergeant Major Chen, the highest enlisted rank in the Army. He was still my aide, but our roles had evolved. He was my partner in every sense of the word.
We talked about having another baby.
"Grace would love a sibling," David said one night as we were getting ready for bed.
"Would you?" I asked, smiling.
"More than anything. I love being a dad. And I love building our family with you."
I thought about it.
Another baby. Another little person to love, to raise, to protect.
"I'd like that," I said.
A month later, I was pregnant.
We were overjoyed.
Grace was thrilled when we told her. "I'm going to be a big sister!" she told everyone who would listen.
Mrs. Rivera started knitting tiny sweaters and blankets.
Everything was perfect.
And then, one ordinary Tuesday afternoon, my phone rang.
It was the local police department.
"General Chen?" the officer said. "This is Officer Martinez. We have a situation you need to be aware of."
My heart sank.
"What kind of situation?"
"Mark Whitmore was picked up this afternoon. He was parked in a car across the street from your daughter's preschool. Sitting there, watching. A teacher noticed him and called us."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"Is Grace okay?"
"She's fine, ma'am. She never even knew he was there. We picked him up before he could do anything. But he was in violation of his parole conditions—being within five hundred feet of your daughter's school, conducting surveillance of a minor. His parole officer has already been notified. He's going back to prison."
I closed my eyes, relief washing over me.
But beneath the relief, there was anger.
He'd been watching Grace.
He'd been at her preschool.
"Thank you, Officer. For protecting my daughter."
"We're just doing our job, ma'am. We wanted you to know so you could be aware. And so you could talk to the school about additional security measures if you'd like."
"I will. Thank you."
I hung up the phone.
David walked into the room, saw my face, and immediately knew something was wrong.
"What happened?"
"Mark. He was at Grace's preschool. Watching her. The police picked him up. He's going back to prison for violating his parole."
David's face hardened.
"He was at her school?"
"Just sitting in his car across the street. A teacher saw him and called the police. Grace is fine. She didn't see anything."
David sat down beside me and pulled me into his arms.
"I'm so sorry," he said. "I know this brings everything back."
I nodded against his chest.
"Why can't he just leave us alone? Why can't he just move on with his life?"
"Because he's weak, Anna. And angry. And he can't stand the fact that you're happy. That you built a beautiful life without him. That Grace has a real father who loves her and takes care of her."
He kissed the top of my head.
"But he's going back to prison. And this time, they might not let him out early. He violated his parole within months of being released. The parole board isn't going to be lenient next time."
I pulled back to look at him.
"What if he gets out again? What if he comes after us?"
"Then we'll be ready. We'll add more security. We'll talk to the police, to the school. We'll do whatever it takes to keep Grace and the baby safe. And I'll be right here, beside you, every step of the way."
I kissed him.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
That evening, we sat Grace down and talked to her.
We didn't tell her about Mark. She was too young.
But we told her that sometimes, there are people who might try to hurt her, and that she needed to tell a teacher or Mommy or Daddy if she ever saw someone who made her feel uncomfortable.
We talked to the school about additional security measures. They agreed to install more cameras, to require ID for anyone picking up children, to be extra vigilant.
And we waited.
Mark was indeed sent back to prison. His parole was revoked, and he was ordered to serve the remaining two years of his sentence, with no possibility of early release this time.
He wouldn't be getting out again for at least two more years.
And this time, when he got out, he would be on probation for another ten years. Ten years of strict conditions, ten years where any misstep would send him right back.
I tried to put it out of my mind.
I had a husband who loved me.
A daughter who was happy and healthy.
A baby on the way.
A career that mattered.
A family that was real and strong and loving.
I wasn't going to let Mark's weakness and anger ruin any of it.
I held my growing belly, and I thought about the future.
About Grace becoming a big sister.
About David and I growing old together.
About Mrs. Rivera being surrounded by her grandchildren.
About the life we were building, one day at a time.
Mark could stay in his prison cell, angry and bitter and alone.
May you like
We were going to be happy.
And that was the best revenge of all.
