Chapter 1

On my birthday, Adrian and our son stayed out late keeping his first love company.

I called several times, but it was my son, Lucas, who finally answered.

"God, you're so annoying! We're eating. Stop calling!"

It was past midnight when Adrian and Lucas finally returned to our home on Chicago's North Shore, carrying a mango buttercream cake.

Adrian looked completely exasperated. "What's with the attitude? I got you a cake, didn't I?"

I gave a silent, humorless smile.

They had forgotten. I was severely allergic to mangoes.

I ate every single piece of mango on that cake out of pure, suffocating spite.

I wanted to see if they would even care.

Within thirty minutes, my throat started closing up. I couldn't breathe.

The paramedics rushed me to an ER downtown. Not a single family member rode in the ambulance with me.

When I woke up in the hospital room, I was completely alone.

Thinking back to last night, as the anaphylaxis set in, I hadn't received a single word of concern.

Adrian had just stared at me coldly while I suffered. "What kind of stunt is this? If you're sick, drive yourself to the ER. I have an early meeting."

Lucas, half-asleep and irritated, had chimed in, "Keep it down, will you? I have school."

I pressed the call button for the nurse and pulled the IV out of my hand. As she cleaned up, she warned me, "That was a massive anaphylactic reaction. You stay away from mangoes, you hear me?"

"I will."

I was never going to do something so stupid again.

When I got home, the only thing waiting for me was their blame.

Adrian's face was dark. "If you know you're allergic, why the hell would you eat it?"

I asked quietly, "Didn't you know? Why did you bring it into this house?"

"Dad's busy. You should be grateful he even remembered your birthday. So he made a mistake, big deal. You're the one who shoved it in your mouth. That's on you," Lucas immediately took his father's side, accusing me with absolute disgust.

I slowly shifted my gaze to him.

"And you? Did you forget too?"

"I have a ton of homework. Who has time to memorize some stupid allergy?"

He said it without a shred of guilt, as if this was exactly how things should be.

Looking at the son I had loved and protected since he was a baby, my heart turned completely cold.

I looked at Adrian and spoke calmly. "I want a divorce."

"A divorce? Over a cake?"

Adrian scoffed. "Claire, this is entirely your own fault. You ate it on purpose. Don't you think you're being a little childish?"

"This isn't just about the cake."

"Then what? Because I didn't rush home for your birthday?"

He stared at me, his voice growing even colder.

"Or are you being paranoid again? Lucas was with me the whole night. What exactly do you think I was doing?"

"I've told you a hundred times, stop suffocating me. I have a company to run, clients to entertain. My world doesn't revolve around you."

Listen to him. He made it sound so reasonable.

He always managed to package himself as the innocent one. The moment I stopped being endlessly accommodating, I became the unreasonable villain.

But somehow, all the pain seemed to have stopped last night, right at the moment I swallowed those mangoes with tears streaming down my face.

Hearing these words now, it didn't even hurt.

"Then I'll stop suffocating you," I said. "We're getting a divorce."

Lucas suddenly cut in. "If you guys get divorced, I'm not living with you."

I looked at him and smiled.

"When did I ever say I wanted you? Even if you begged, I wouldn't take you."

"Enough!" Adrian snapped, his face hardening. "Claire, stop throwing a tantrum. My patience has limits."

With that, he turned and walked into his study.

The tension in my chest eased slightly. I looked down and started applying ointment to the hives on my arm.

Lucas glanced at the angry red patches on my skin and sneered. "Gross."

He walked past me with a cold face, deliberately bumping his shoulder into my leg.

I watched his back as he went upstairs, feeling nothing but irony.

Look at this. This was the husband I had loved for so many years.

This was the son I had raised for so many years.

Chapter 1

On my birthday, Adrian and our son stayed out late keeping his first love company.

I called several times, but it was my son, Lucas, who finally answered.

"God, you're so annoying! We're eating. Stop calling!"

It was past midnight when Adrian and Lucas finally returned to our home on Chicago's North Shore, carrying a mango buttercream cake.

Adrian looked completely exasperated. "What's with the attitude? I got you a cake, didn't I?"

I gave a silent, humorless smile.

They had forgotten. I was severely allergic to mangoes.

I ate every single piece of mango on that cake out of pure, suffocating spite.

I wanted to see if they would even care.

Within thirty minutes, my throat started closing up. I couldn't breathe.

The paramedics rushed me to an ER downtown. Not a single family member rode in the ambulance with me.

When I woke up in the hospital room, I was completely alone.

Thinking back to last night, as the anaphylaxis set in, I hadn't received a single word of concern.

Adrian had just stared at me coldly while I suffered. "What kind of stunt is this? If you're sick, drive yourself to the ER. I have an early meeting."

Lucas, half-asleep and irritated, had chimed in, "Keep it down, will you? I have school."

I pressed the call button for the nurse and pulled the IV out of my hand. As she cleaned up, she warned me, "That was a massive anaphylactic reaction. You stay away from mangoes, you hear me?"

"I will."

I was never going to do something so stupid again.

When I got home, the only thing waiting for me was their blame.

Adrian's face was dark. "If you know you're allergic, why the hell would you eat it?"

I asked quietly, "Didn't you know? Why did you bring it into this house?"

I slowly shifted my gaze to him.

"And you? Did you forget too?"

"I have a ton of homework. Who has time to memorize some stupid allergy?"

He said it without a shred of guilt, as if this was exactly how things should be.

Looking at the son I had loved and protected since he was a baby, my heart turned completely cold.

I looked at Adrian and spoke calmly. "I want a divorce."

"A divorce? Over a cake?"

Adrian scoffed. "Claire, this is entirely your own fault. You ate it on purpose. Don't you think you're being a little childish?"

"This isn't just about the cake."

"Then what? Because I didn't rush home for your birthday?"

He stared at me, his voice growing even colder.

"Or are you being paranoid again? Lucas was with me the whole night. What exactly do you think I was doing?"

"I've told you a hundred times, stop suffocating me. I have a company to run, clients to entertain. My world doesn't revolve around you."

Listen to him. He made it sound so reasonable.

He always managed to package himself as the innocent one. The moment I stopped being endlessly accommodating, I became the unreasonable villain.

But somehow, all the pain seemed to have stopped last night, right at the moment I swallowed those mangoes with tears streaming down my face.

Hearing these words now, it didn't even hurt.

"Then I'll stop suffocating you," I said. "We're getting a divorce."

Lucas suddenly cut in. "If you guys get divorced, I'm not living with you."

I looked at him and smiled.

"When did I ever say I wanted you? Even if you begged, I wouldn't take you."

"Enough!" Adrian snapped, his face hardening. "Claire, stop throwing a tantrum. My patience has limits."

With that, he turned and walked into his study.

The tension in my chest eased slightly. I looked down and started applying ointment to the hives on my arm.

Lucas glanced at the angry red patches on my skin and sneered. "Gross."

He walked past me with a cold face, deliberately bumping his shoulder into my leg.

I watched his back as he went upstairs, feeling nothing but irony.

Look at this. This was the husband I had loved for so many years.

This was the son I had raised for so many years.