Chapter 2

2

Garrett looked at me and let out a scoff of utter disdain.

“Walk away?”

“Sabrina, if you leave me, how will you even feed yourself and the kid?”

“Get back to your room right now. Stop embarrassing me in front of these people.”

With that, he signaled the house staff.

A couple of them rushed forward, grabbing my arms without hesitation and shoving me toward the bedroom.

The door was locked from the outside.

The soundproofing was terrible, and I could hear their hushed whispers clearly.

“I don’t know what the mistress is throwing a tantrum for. She has such a lavish life, yet she has to humiliate the boss in front of reporters.”

“Isn’t it just raising a dead woman’s kid? She’s a parasite living off Mr. Whitfield anyway. She should just suck it up.”

A parasite?

When Garrett and I first got together, he was a broke nobody with nothing to his name.

I gave him every cent of my savings so he could start his company.

I drank through countless late-night networking dinners to land his very first major contract.

And when he was too overwhelmed to manage his life, I stepped back to become his solid foundation.

Yet now, in everyone’s eyes, I was nothing more than a freeloader living off his generosity.

I slid down against the door until I sat on the cold floor. Outside, the chatter slowly died down.

Garrett swung the door open, his boot bumping against my hip as he stepped inside.

It didn’t hurt, but it cracked the dam holding back my emotions.

Tears spilled over my lashes.

Just as I was about to let myself cry, a piece of clothing was tossed right over my head.

“Stop crying.”

“Sabrina, you’re good with a needle. Mend this shirt for me.”

I pulled the fabric off my face.

It was a white silk blouse with slight fraying at the cuffs.

The tears froze in my eyes.

I couldn’t even cry anymore.

A suffocating wave of humiliation washed over me, so absurd that I almost laughed out loud.

I recognized that blouse.

In this mansion, there were two walk-in closets.

One was for my clothes and the kids’ clothes.

The other was reserved exclusively for Garrett and Vivian’s wardrobe.

Vivian was dead, yet Garrett insisted on keeping her ghost alive in every corner of our home.

I took a deep breath and threw the blouse hard against the floor.

“I’m not joking, Garrett.”

“I’ve had enough of this life. We are getting a divorce.”

My voice was steady and resolute.

Yet Garrett acted as if he hadn’t heard a single word.

He unbuttoned his cuffs and held his arms out.

“Come help me change.”

“Hurry up. I promised Rory I’d read her a bedtime story.”

I walked up to him, keeping my hands glued to my sides.

I repeated quietly, “I’m taking my son and leaving.”

This time, he finally looked at me directly.

The blatant condescension in his eyes stung like needles across my skin.

“Just tell me, what do you want to buy this time?”

“Sabrina, I’ve told you a hundred times. If you want something, just ask. Cut this pathetic guilt-trip drama.”

He pulled out a black credit card and shoved it down my neckline.

“That should cover whatever you want for a while.”

He changed his shirt himself, shoved past me, and headed straight to Rory’s bedroom.

The card slipped from my shirt and clattered onto the hardwood floor.

I stared at it for a long time before letting out a self-mocking laugh.

In his eyes, I truly was no different from a servant who could be bought off with a few extra dollars.

I wiped away the remaining tears and turned toward my son’s room.

He was awake, staring blankly into space.

Hearing the door open, he looked over, his little lower lip trembling.

“Mommy, were you fighting with Daddy again?”

I shook my head gently.

“Not really. But Mommy wants to separate from Daddy.”

“Will you come with me?”

My son’s eyes instantly lit up. “Really?”

“Mommy, just like you, I hate it here.”

“Whenever Rory gets mad, Daddy yells at me. If we both want the same toy, Daddy only buys it for her. Every toy I play with and every book I read are just things Rory threw away.”

He counted on his small fingers, his hushed voice trembling with excitement.

“If we leave this house, will my things finally belong just to me?”

A fierce ache squeezed my heart.

My son should have been treasured like gold, yet he was forced to live in the shadow of Garrett’s blatant favoritism.

He wasn’t happy here.

The very last reason I had to stay in this marriage was gone.

This divorce was happening, no matter what.