I came home early today and heard my 5-year-old screaming. My mother-in-law was pressing boiling chopsticks into her tiny hands.

A month later, the divorce was finalized.

The judge signed the papers, and just like that, I was no longer Eleanor Hale.

I went back to my maiden name.

Eleanor Voss.

Lily kept Hale for now, but I told her when she got older, she could change it to Voss too, if she wanted.

She said she liked Voss.

Said it sounded like a superhero name.

I laughed.

She was right.

Michael had completed his first four anger management classes, per the court order, and had requested his first supervised visit with Lily.

I’d hesitated.

I didn’t want her anywhere near him.

But the court had ordered it, and Ms. Lopez said fighting it would only make me look like the bad guy.

“Let him have the visit,” she said.

“If he messes up, if he yells, if he so much as looks at her wrong, we’ll go back to court and take the visits away forever. But if he’s good? Then Lily gets to have a dad who’s trying. And that’s better for her, long-term.”

She was right.

I hated it, but she was right.

The visit was at a state-approved center, with a social worker in the room the whole time.

I sat in the waiting room, my leg bouncing, listening through the one-way mirror.

Michael was there ten minutes early, clean-shaven, wearing a nice shirt, his hair cut.

He looked nervous.

When Lily walked in, she hesitated for a second, then walked over to the small table where he was sitting.

He’d brought her a new doll, with curly hair just like hers.

“Hi, baby,” he said, his voice soft.

“I missed you.”

Lily took the doll, holding it tight.

“Hi,” she said, quiet.

They colored together for an hour.

Michael asked her about school, about her friends, about the puppy Uncle Ray had gotten her.

He didn’t yell.

He didn’t argue.

He didn’t mention Margaret, or the divorce, or the money.

He just listened.

When the hour was up, he walked her to the door.

He knelt down, looking her in the eye.

“I’m sorry, Lily,” he said, his voice cracking.

“I’m so, so sorry for everything. For letting Grandma hurt you. For yelling at your mom. For not being a good dad. I’m going to keep trying. I promise. I’m going to be the dad you deserve.”

Lily stared at him for a second, then leaned forward and gave him a quick hug.

“Okay,” she said.

She turned and ran to me, throwing her arms around my legs.

“Mommy! We colored a unicorn! See?”

I picked her up, looking over her head at Michael.

He stood there, his eyes wet, watching us.

I didn’t smile.

I didn’t forgive him.

But I nodded, once.

It was a start.

Not for him.

For Lily.

That night, I got a letter in the mail.

It was from Michael.

I opened it, reading it slowly.

Eleanor, it said.

I know you’ll never forgive me. And I don’t blame you. I was weak. I was greedy. I let my mom control me, and I hurt the only two people who ever really loved me. I’m not writing this to ask for anything. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m going to keep going to the classes. I’m going to get a job, pay back every dime I stole. I’m going to be a better dad to Lily, even if it’s only two hours a month. You won. You got everything you wanted. And you deserved it. You were always too good for me. Take care of our girl. She’s the best thing that ever happened to either of us.

Michael.

I put the letter down.

I didn’t feel hate anymore.

I didn’t feel anger.

I just felt… nothing.

He was a stranger now.

A man who’d been part of my past, but not my future.

I walked into Lily’s room.

She was asleep, her new doll tucked under her arm, the unicorn drawing taped to the wall above her bed.

I sat on the edge of her bed, stroking her hair.

The scars on her hand were faint now, almost gone, just silvery lines you could barely see unless you looked close.

Her nightmares were gone.