Chapter 1

My husband, Andy Stark, brought me a pair of high heels when he returned from a business trip.

A few minutes ago, I saw a photo of his ex-wife, Jane Mueller, wearing the exact same pair on social media.

The caption read: [It's been five years since the divorce, and my ex-husband still brings me gifts every time he comes back from a trip.]

For once, I didn't complain. I simply thanked him calmly and put the shoes away in the closet.

There were already six neatly arranged pairs inside, all size 6.

I'd always worn a size 7.

Size 6 was Jane's size.

My daughter was happily eating the dessert Andy brought back. It was something he'd picked up at the airport on his way home.

Meanwhile, he was on a video call with Jane's son.

The boy held up a Transformers toy, grinning. "Dad, thanks for standing in line three hours to get the limited edition. I love it."

Andy's voice was soft, almost indulgent. "Glad you like it. I'll get you more next time."

My daughter hadn't said a word for a while.

Then, suddenly, a sharp sense of unease hit me. I rushed over.

She was lying on the floor, her face flushed red, struggling to breathe. "Dad, I don't feel good."

She was whispering for help.

And Andy, still sitting on the couch, was laughing on the video call, completely unaware.

Cold sweat broke out all over me. I shouted, "Andy, call an ambulance."

Only then did Andy snap out of it, fumbling to end the video call.

We rushed to the hospital in a panic.

The doctor looked serious. "How did this happen? Don't you know your child has a severe peanut allergy? This has been going on for at least ten minutes. Didn't you notice at all?"

Andy froze, then turned to me. "Chloe, come on. You're Daisy's mom. Don't you know she's allergic to peanuts? You never told me."

Seeing how unbothered he looked, I felt everything was absurd.

I pulled out my phone and checked our chat history.

Dozens of messages mentioning "peanut allergy" were all sent by me.

Andy either replied with a careless "okay" or a dismissive "got it".

Andy froze, then gave an awkward smile. "Sorry, I forgot again. My bad."

Yeah, he really was forgetful.

He never remembered that I wear a size 7, or that I spent my days doing housework. I didn't wear shoes like those pretty heels.

He never remembered Daisy's allergy, or how many times I'd warned him about it.

And somehow, people around me always said I was lucky to have him.

"Sure, it's a second marriage, but you really got lucky with Andy."

"Yeah, he's so thoughtful. He brings you gifts when he travels. That's rare."

I looked at the closet full of shoes that didn't fit me, and it felt like something was stuck in my throat. I only felt tired.

I held Daisy's hand. She was asleep, her face pale.

The IV in her hand felt like it was sticking into me, too, hurting in a strange way.

"Andy, let's get a divorce," I said.

It wasn't easy for me to say that.

Andy was my boss back then. I'd graduated and didn't know anything. Clients kept finding excuses to make me drink, and I couldn't say no, so I drank one after another.

I only realized something was off when I noticed the way they were staring at me.

Right then, Andy sighed and took the glass from my hand. "Chloe, go get some rest."

He smoothly stepped in and solved the problem in a few words.

I thought people always had a certain unspoken admiration for those above them.

Later, he brought me to meet clients and taught me how things worked.

One night, fueled by alcohol, I gathered my courage and kissed him on the cheek.

Andy was caught off guard for a moment, then laughed and ruffled my hair.

After that, we started dating, got married, and I got pregnant. I thought I had finally found happiness, so I quit my job and focused entirely on raising our child.

When did everything start to go wrong?

Maybe it was the moment Jane returned to the country with their son.

Andy acted like he didn't notice how broken our marriage had become. He frowned. "Chloe, I'm sorry about what happened to Daisy, but are you really going to divorce me over this?

"You're not a kid anymore. Stop being so childish."

He sounded sincere, like he really believed he did nothing wrong.

Seeing me silent, Andy stepped forward, reaching for my hand, but I gently pulled away.

The wedding ring on my finger shimmered faintly.

It wasn't anything fancy, but I was really happy when I got it.

Then I saw Jane wearing a beautiful Tiffany diamond ring.

I subconsciously hid my hand, afraid she'd notice my ring.

Her smug smile made me feel a strange sense of insecurity.

I guessed her ring probably cost tens of thousands of dollars.

Andy was really generous when he was younger. That was a price I had never dared to imagine.

While I was lost in thought, Daisy woke up.

Andy quickly went over and stroked Daisy's face. "Daisy, this is all my fault. Are you mad at me?"

Daisy shook her head and looked at me. "Mom, don't be sad. Your hand... relax."

Only then did I notice I was clenching my fist so hard that my nails had cut into my palm.

I forced a small smile, swallowing the pain and the sour feeling in my nose.

Daisy could notice something wrong with me right after waking up, but Andy never seemed to notice when I was struggling.