Chapter 2

2

Lying on the bed after packing my suitcase, I stared at the gray sky outside, remembering everything I had sacrificed for him over the last ten years.

I had lived in leaky, run-down rentals with him and worked three jobs to keep us afloat when his startup was on the brink of collapse.

I had even quit my job to nurse his terminally ill father until the old man passed away peacefully.

I thought those shared struggles had forged an unbreakable bond between us, but I was wrong.

The sound of the front door opening downstairs shattered my thoughts.

Declan walked into the kitchen carrying grocery bags.

I was surprised. He was the type of man who never lifted a finger around the house and despised cooking.

He rolled up his sleeves and laid out the ingredients across the marble counter.

Seeing the sushi rice and nori sheets, a soft ache hit my chest.

He still remembered my favorite food.

Watching his focused profile, I almost let myself fall into the illusion.

The very next second, I watched him open a container of shredded crab meat and spoon huge mounds of it across the rice.

The faint smile on my face instantly froze.

I have a severe, life-threatening seafood allergy. Even the smell makes me violently ill, a fact he had known since the first day we met.

The food wasn't made for me.

Sure enough, he packed the rolls into a sleek container, tied it with a neat bow, and casually explained, "Mom hasn't had much of an appetite lately and wanted something light. I figured I'd practice my skills."

What a pathetic lie.

His mother lived in Europe and despised cold sushi.

I stared at the plastic container, catching the reflection of my own clown-like face in the glossy lid.

That night, Declan pulled me into a rare, tender embrace, smoothing my hair as he whispered, "Clara, your birthday is the day after tomorrow. I've planned a huge party for you."

My body stiffened slightly, but I didn't pull away.

Oblivious to my distance, he continued eagerly, "I even won the Tears of the Galaxy necklace at the auction. You've talked about it for years, haven't you? It cost a hundred million, but it's yours. Consider it our fresh start."

The sweeter his promises sounded, the fainter that pathetic flicker of hope inside me became.

On the night of the gala, I forced myself to get ready, wearing the custom designer gown he had sent over.

The moment I stepped into the ballroom, I saw Maisie standing in the center of the crowd.

She was wearing the exact same couture gown as mine, only hers was tailored with even more lavish detail.

Murmurs immediately rippled through the room.

"Why is she here? Wearing the exact same dress as Mrs. Vance?"

"Is she doing this on purpose? Is she trying to steal the husband publicly?"

Maisie stood there biting her lip, her eyes brimming with tears, playing the innocent, overwhelmed victim.

Right then, Declan strode across the floor.

He stepped in front of her protectively, pulling her against his side before glaring at me with icy accusation.

"Clara! What the hell is your problem? Didn't I already explain everything to you? Why do you have to pick on Maisie? She's young and naive! Why humiliate her in front of everyone like this?"

The disgust in his eyes was almost tangible. "How did you become so vicious and cruel?"