Daddy Won’t Be There Novel by Rowan Belle _ Novel





Daddy Won’t Be There Chapter 01

Every time his one true love called, my husband, Deandre Sutton, subtly hinted that he wanted a divorce.
According to him, she was fragile, lonely, helpless, and struggling with suicidal thoughts, raising her daughter alone.
In contrast, my son and I were strong, independent, unshakably optimistic, and compassionate.
He couldn't bear to let her handle things on her own, so he wanted to marry her and shield her and her daughter from it all.
Today, he hinted at it again.
I didn't cry, and I didn't make a scene. I simply looked at him and calmly said, "Fine."
I agreed because I finally had a reason to walk away from this marriage.
Our son, Finnegan Sutton, had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. He had only one month left to live.
Deandre's face instantly lit up with joy. "Tell Finny I'll be home right on time tomorrow to spend New Year's Eve with him."
Finnegan had wasted away until he was little more than skin and bone. With eyes rimmed red, he looked at me and pleaded with a weak smile.
"Mommy, can we stay for just three more days? I want to spend one last New Year with Daddy."
***
Finnegan's pale face was tight with longing. A wave of agony crashed over me, and I gently stroked his hair.
"Okay. We'll stay."
Finnegan was in the final stages of cancer, and due to his unique immune system, neither medication nor chemotherapy worked.
The doctors were powerless. They told me he had a month at most and that I should start preparing for his funeral.
Choking back my overwhelming grief, I drafted the divorce papers and prepared to book flights to take him to see the glaciers.
It was his greatest wish. I was determined to make it come true.
But before I could hit "confirm" on the tickets, Finnegan asked me to call Deandre.
He said, "What if Daddy remembers his promise to spend New Year's with me? I want to leave after New Year's Eve."
I hadn't expected anything from Deandre. But for once, he didn't disappoint.
Finnegan's little face was ghost-pale, and he gasped for air after every few words, but the light in his eyes was brighter than anything I'd ever seen.
"Mommy, could I wear the new red clothes you bought me tomorrow when I wish Daddy a Happy New Year?
"If I wear new clothes, maybe I won't look so haggard. Dad hates seeing me so weak. I want him to be happy.
"This is... This is our first time spending the New Year all together."
My eyes stung, and I pulled him into my arms, my heart breaking for him.
"That's not true, baby. Whether you're sick or not, your daddy and I love you. I will love you forever. Tomorrow, you'll put on your beautiful new clothes, and we'll have a wonderful New Year with your father."
Finnegan beamed, his face full of pure, simple contentment.
"I know. I love you too, Mommy. Tomorrow, the three of us will have a beautiful New Year. I'll ask Daddy to set off the fireworks with me, and we can go to the night market by the Hudson River. I learned clay modeling lately; I can play with that with Daddy too..."
He prattled on excitedly about his plans for tomorrow, his face alight with longing.
He was so desperate to have one good holiday with his father—to leave behind a memory that belonged only to them.
Watching Finnegan's joyful anticipation, I could barely keep the tears from spilling over.
In five years of marriage, Deandre and I had done nothing but torment each other.
After Finnegan was born, Deandre wouldn't even let the boy call him "Dad."
Once the woman he truly loved, Monique Quinn, got her divorce, he moved out entirely.
On Finnegan's birthday, he waited downstairs at Deandre's office in the freezing wind. Deandre saw him, but simply turned and walked away.
My little boy stood frozen, holding the gift he'd prepared, staring at his father's retreating back.
His eyes reddened, but, ever the understanding one, he held back his tears and didn't run after Deandre.
A few days ago, Deandre actually took Finnegan hiking, something he had never done before.
I'd thought he was finally beginning to care for his son.
But later, when Finnegan collapsed from the pain in his abdomen and was rushed to the hospital, Deandre—his father—wasn't there by his side.
Just one phone call from Monique, and he handed Finnegan over to me, hurrying away without a second glance.
That day, the doctor told me that Finnegan had cancer and didn't have much time left.
I nearly fainted when I heard that.
Finnegan didn't understand what death meant, but his eyes were filled with worry.
"Mommy, can we please not tell Daddy I'm sick? He doesn't like sick kids, and I... I want Daddy to like me."
Hearing those words, I wanted to break down and scream.
Now, meeting his expectant gaze, I couldn't speak at all, my heart twisted in agony.
I couldn't bring myself to tell him that while he was dying in a hospital bed, his father was with the woman he loved, spending day and night nursing her daughter through a common fever.
His father didn't hate sick children.
He hated me—and, as a result, he hated the child I had given him.
In that moment, my only hope was that Deandre would actually show up for Finnegan on New Year's Eve.
If he failed, I would take Finnegan away without a moment's hesitation.
I wouldn't let him set foot in this house again—and I certainly wouldn't let him attend Finnegan's funeral.

READ FULL NOVEL HERE