The Slap He Could Never Forget

By the time Theron Viremont returned home that afternoon, his three-year-old daughter had a red handprint on her cheek, his wife was dripping wet beside the swimming pool, and he had made a decision that would haunt him long after the bruises faded.

He had left the house less than an hour earlier, believing that the beautiful woman he had married would never deliberately hurt the little girl he loved more than his own life.

He was wrong about both of them.

The Viremont estate stood behind tall iron gates on the outskirts of Greenwich, Connecticut. Sunlight spilled across the pale stone patio, turning the swimming pool into a sheet of blue glass. Everything looked peaceful enough to belong in a luxury magazine.

Eirlys Viremont sat beneath a striped umbrella, her tiny legs swinging beneath a wicker chair. She wore a pale-pink dress, white sandals, and two ribbons in her golden curls. One ribbon had slipped sideways, but she had been too busy preparing an imaginary tea party to notice.

Across the patio, Corisande Viremont sat beside the pool, scrolling through her phone.

"Mommy?""

Corisande didn't look up.

Eirlys lifted a little plastic teacup.

"I made tea for you.""

"Not now, Eirlys.""

The little girl lowered the cup.

She had learned that her stepmother preferred quiet mornings, quiet afternoons, and quiet children. Still, she was three. She hadn't yet learned that some adults could turn a harmless interruption into a reason for cruelty.

She climbed down from her chair and approached Corisande.

"Mommy, please. Just one sip.""

Corisande's thumb stopped moving across the screen.

"Eirlys, did you not hear me?""

Eirlys shook her head, uncertain whether that meant yes or no.

"I made it with my special pink cup.""

"I'm working.""

"Can you pretend?""

Corisande set her phone facedown on the chaise lounge.

The movement was small, but Eirlys immediately stopped smiling.

"How many times must I tell you to leave me alone?"" Corisande demanded.

Eirlys held out the cup anyway.

"For you.""

Her little fingers touched the side of Corisande's ivory dress.

The slap cracked across the courtyard.

Eirlys stumbled sideways. Her teacup bounced off the stone, spilling nothing but imaginary tea. She clutched her cheek, her gray-blue eyes wide with disbelief.

For two seconds, she didn't cry.

She simply stared at the woman who had struck her.

Then her lower lip trembled.

"Why did you do that?""

Corisande stood, smoothing her dress as if the child had inconvenienced her by making the moment unpleasant.

"Because you never listen.""

"But I—"

"Stop talking!""

Eirlys burst into tears.

Corisande looked toward the house, checking whether anyone had witnessed the scene. The nearest housekeeper was working in the kitchen, and the security camera above the rear doors pointed toward the pool entrance rather than the chairs beneath the umbrella.

Satisfied that no adult had seen what happened, Corisande picked up her phone.

"Honestly," she muttered.

"Your father spoils you rotten.""

Eirlys backed away, sobbing.

Corisande walked toward the pool steps, intending to cool off before changing for an afternoon charity luncheon.

She never noticed the little sandal moving into her path.

Eirlys wasn't plotting revenge. She didn't understand revenge. She understood only that the woman who had hurt her was walking away while her cheek burned and nobody had made it better.

Her foot stretched out.

Corisande's heel caught against it.

"What the—"

Her arms flew outward. She staggered, desperately reaching for the back of the chaise lounge, but her fingers brushed empty air.

Then she fell backward into the pool.

The splash sent water over the stone coping.

Eirlys stopped crying.

For one stunned moment, she watched her stepmother disappear beneath the surface. Then Corisande burst upward, coughing and sweeping wet platinum-blonde hair from her face.

"You little monster!""

Corisande grabbed the pool's edge.

Her ivory dress clung to her body. Mascara streaked beneath her eyes, and one diamond earring had disappeared into the water.

"You did that on purpose!""

Eirlys stumbled backward.

Corisande hauled herself toward the steps, her face twisting with rage.

"I'm going to teach you—"

The side gate slammed open.

"Eirlys?""

Theron Viremont's voice carried across the patio.

He had returned early after his business meeting was canceled. When he heard crying from behind the house, he abandoned his briefcase on the entry table and ran outside.

Eirlys turned.

"Daddy!""

She rushed toward him, nearly tripping over her own sandals.

Theron dropped to one knee and caught her in his arms.

"Hey, sweetheart. What's wrong?""

Eirlys buried her face against his neck. Her small body shook with each breath.

"Mommy hit me!""

Theron's arms tightened around her.

He pulled back and looked at her face.

The mark was already turning red across her cheek.

For a moment, the courtyard seemed to tilt beneath him.

He had seen men lie to protect fortunes, betray partners to save their careers, and destroy families over money. He had always believed there was one line nobody in his household would cross.

His wife had crossed it with an open palm.

He raised his eyes toward the pool.

Corisande was climbing out, water streaming from her dress.

"Theron, thank God you're here," she said quickly.

"Your daughter deliberately tripped me.""

He didn't answer.

"Did you hear me? She stuck her foot out. I could have cracked my head open!""

Theron looked down at Eirlys.

"Did she hit you?""

Eirlys nodded against his shoulder.

"She said I was a bad girl.""

Corisande let out an incredulous laugh.

"Oh, please. I gave her one little slap because she wouldn't stop pestering me. She's fine.""

"One little slap?""

"Don't make this into something it isn't.""

Theron rose slowly, keeping Eirlys against his chest.

Corisande stepped toward him.

"You weren't here. You don't know what she's like when you're gone. She follows me everywhere.

She interrupts every phone call. I can't even sit down without her demanding attention.""

"She's three years old.""

"And I'm your wife!""

The words rang across the patio.

For years, Corisande had expected those words to settle every argument. She was his wife. She wore his ring.

She lived in his mansion and attended his dinners. She had grown accustomed to the assumption that her place beside him made her untouchable.

That afternoon, she watched something in his expression disappear.

"Apologize to her," Theron said.

Corisande blinked.

"What?""

"Apologize to my daughter.""

She looked at Eirlys, then back at him.

"You're seriously taking her side over mine?""

"I'm asking you to apologize.""

"She caused me to fall into the pool!""

"And you struck a three-year-old.""

Corisande's mouth tightened.

"She needs discipline.""

Theron felt Eirlys tremble against him.

He remembered the first time he had held her as a newborn, how impossibly small her fingers had looked wrapped around his thumb. He remembered promising his late first wife that he would protect their daughter, even when the world became difficult.

Now the little girl was hiding her face against his shoulder because the woman he had brought into their home had hurt her.

Something inside him snapped.

He took a step toward the pool.

Corisande mistook his silence for surrender and lifted her chin.

"Finally. Perhaps you'll understand that I won't be treated like a servant in my own home.""

Theron stopped in front of her.

"You hit her.""

"Oh, for heaven's sake—"

He kicked her in the upper torso.

The blow sent Corisande stumbling backward. Her arms windmilled, her heels scraped against the wet stone, and she fell into the swimming pool a second time.

Water exploded around her.

Eirlys went completely silent.

Theron stared at the surface, his heart pounding. He had wanted to protect his daughter. Instead, he had just shown her that when someone hurt you, the answer might be to hurt them back.

Corisande surfaced, gasping.

"Theron! You pushed me!""

He turned away and carried Eirlys toward the house.

"No one hurts my daughter," he said.

His voice was frighteningly calm.

At the glass doors, he paused.

Eirlys had stopped crying, but her tiny hand remained pressed against his collar. She wouldn't look at him.

"Sweetheart?""

She buried her face deeper into his shoulder.

"Are you mad at me, Daddy?""

Theron closed his eyes.

"No. Never.""

"Because Mommy fell in the water?""

His throat tightened.

He had no answer that a three-year-old could understand.

Behind him, Corisande climbed out of the pool and began shouting for the housekeeper. Theron carried his daughter upstairs, washed her cheek with a cool cloth, and sat beside her bed until her breathing settled.

He told himself he would deal with his marriage later.

First, he needed to make sure Eirlys felt safe.

But just as he stood to leave, she caught his wrist.

"Daddy?""

"Yes, sweetheart?""

Eirlys looked toward the bedroom door.

"Please don't let Mommy come back tonight.""