Because of his first love, my husband threw $250 million at me and demanded a divorce. Then he looked at our seven-year-old son and said, “Divorce me. The child is yours. I don’t have a son with such a low IQ.” But on the day we walked into court, my little boy needed only ten seconds to bring their entire family crashing down.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning in late spring.

I stood on the balcony of our new penthouse, looking out over the city skyline. I was holding a cup of coffee, feeling a profound, untouchable sense of peace.

Inside the living room, Leo was sitting at a massive drafting table. He was ten years old now, and his brilliance had only grown. He was sketching a complex architectural blueprint for a new community center the foundation was building.

He paused, put his pencil down, and walked out onto the balcony.

"Mom," Leo said, his gray eyes clear and focused.

"Yes, my love?" I smiled, kneeling down to his level.

"The structural integrity of the new building relies on a perfect geometric sequence," he said. "It won't fall down. No matter what happens, the foundation is too strong."