I walked back to my car, placed the prescription information beside me, and sat behind the steering wheel while Chloe slept peacefully in her car seat.
My body still hurt from surgery.
My eyes burned from exhaustion.
And for the first time since Eric left, I admitted something to myself.
I needed help.
Part 3 — “She’s Your Problem”
Eric’s number was still in my phone.
I stared at it for several minutes.
I hated the thought of calling him.
But this wasn’t about me.
This was his daughter.
So I pressed the button.
He answered after several rings.
“What?”
No hello.
No question about Chloe.
Just irritation.
I swallowed my pride.
“Chloe needs another breathing treatment. Her medication is more expensive than I expected, and I can’t cover all of it.”
Silence.
I continued before he could hang up.
“You took the savings, Eric. I need you to help with this.”
