Leo Benjamin Turner

For my daughter Sophia’s birthday, my husband, Walker, bought her a thousand-dollar cashmere coat. When I saw it, I announced, in front of everyone at the party, that I wanted a divorce. Walker froze for a second, then laughed and pulled out another coat. This one was adult-sized. “Darling, I bought one for you, too. Same style. Yours was more expensive, better material.” I pointed to the bow on Sophia’s coat and insisted, “I want a divorce.” “You're serious? Over a bow? You want a divorce over a bow?” The once-lively party fell silent. Sophia grabbed the hem of my skirt, sobbing. “Mom, I don’t want any more birthdays. I don’t want the gift. Please don’t leave Dad, okay?” I pushed her away. Seeing Sophia fall to the floor, my father raised his hand and slapped me across the face. “All this over a piece of clothing? Are you out of your mind?” My head snapped to the side, my ear ringing. But I didn’t take it back. “Yes. I want a divorce.” … “Odessa, please don’t do this.” “You know your father has a bad heart. Please, don’t upset him.” Walker tried to reason with me, his eyes darting nervously toward my father. The relatives around us began to murmur. “It’s just a bow. What’s the big deal?” “Is she jealous of her own daughter? It’s the girl’s birthday, and he even bought her a matching one. What more does she want?” “The entitlement is unbelievable.” “Poor Robert. He hasn’t had it easy with her.” I heard them, but their words changed nothing. “That’s not my problem. I’m getting a divorce.” With that, I grabbed my bag and walked out without a backward glance. I’d barely stepped outside before a small pair of arms wrapped around my leg. “Mom, please don’t divorce Dad, okay?” “It’s all my fault. If I didn’t have a birthday, you wouldn’t be angry.” Sophia had chased me out, crying so hard she could barely form the words. I hesitated for a beat. Sophia had always been such a good ......