Chapter 1

1.

Elena Moreno never imagined that on her birthday, her son would hand her a peanut butter cup lethal enough to send her into anaphylactic shock.

As consciousness faded, she heard Asher Whitmore's furious reprimand.

"Knox Whitmore, did you not know your mother is deathly allergic to peanuts?"

Knox's young voice cut through with terrible clarity.

"I know. But I want Olivia to be my mom."

"Dad, you want that too, don't you?"

"Even if I..."

A violent wave of suffocation crashed over her. She couldn't make out the rest of Asher's answer. In the final second before losing consciousness, only one thought remained.

If she woke up, she was done being Asher Whitmore's wife. Done being Knox's mother.

***

Five hours of emergency treatment pulled her back from the edge.

When Elena regained consciousness, every breath burned. Her face was swollen beyond recognition. She forced her eyes open, searching instinctively for two figures. The room was empty.

Her phone sat on the bedside table. She strained to reach it, but it was too far. Just as she tried to push herself up, the nurse changing her IV pushed the door open and rushed to stop her.

"You just got out of the ICU. Don't move. I'll get it for you."

The nurse handed her the phone and replaced the IV bag. "Did you not know you have a severe peanut allergy? You have to remember this. Absolutely no peanuts. You're lucky they got you here in time. Otherwise, no one could have saved you."

Elena didn't know how to answer.

Was she supposed to say her son deliberately chose a peanut butter cup for her, knowing full well it could kill her?

Her gaze fell on her body, tangled in wires and tubes. She forced the words out. "Where are they?"

She couldn't bring herself to call Asher and Knox her husband and son. Not anymore.

The nurse thought for a moment. "You mean your husband and son? They brought you to the ER, signed the paperwork, and rushed off. Said something came up. You should call them."

Then she muttered under her breath, "My god. Signed and left? If it were my husband, he'd have worn a hole in the waiting room floor."

The words hit Elena like a blade to the chest.

Only one person could make that father and son leave so fast.

She unlocked her phone. Her chat with Asher was still a wall of green bubbles. She opened Instagram. Olivia's story sat at the top.

*Some people come running faster than my private driver. ??*

The photo showed only Asher's forearm, sleeves rolled up, a screwdriver in hand. Knox's small fingers reached into the frame, passing over a vintage dresser part from RH. No faces. No names.

The two familiar figures burned into Elena's vision. Her eyes stung. The suffocating feeling swept over her again.

She refreshed the photo. Zoomed in on Knox's hand blocking the lens. Backed out. Locked the screen. Unlocked it. Looked again. The hospital blanket was wrapped tight around her, but she was still cold. Cold enough that her fingertips shook.

They had abandoned her―a woman who had just stared death in the face―to assemble Olivia's goddamn RH dresser. And her anaphylactic shock? Knox had caused it with his own hands.

No guilt. No worry. Nothing.

Elena let out a hollow laugh. Of course. Knox probably wished she had never woken up. And Asher―whether he knew the truth or not―deep down, he probably wanted Olivia as his wife just as badly.

Why would two people who didn't want her bother to stay at her bedside?

She set the phone down and stared at the harsh fluorescent lights. The memories came flooding back.

She and Asher had grown up in the same Hamptons neighborhood. He was the golden boy―brilliant, skipped two grades, walked into Yale like it was nothing. Everyone knew he'd come back to Greenwich and take over the Whitmore family asset management empire. Elena was quiet. At backyard barbecues and pool parties, she was the girl sitting on the sidelines. As she got older, she faded even more into the background.

And yet, she fell for him.

She figured her feelings would die the day he married someone else.

She never expected him to show up at her door right after graduating from Yale, asking if she would marry him. The shock nearly knocked her over. She couldn't hold back the feelings that had been growing for years. She said yes without hesitation.

Just like that, she became Elena Whitmore.

Until that night. He'd been drinking. And he told her the truth. At Yale, there was a girl he loved. He'd proposed under the Eiffel Tower, beneath the Northern Lights in Iceland. But the one that scarred him most was graduation day―the hundredth time he got down on one knee, with all his fraternity brothers watching. And the hundredth time she said no. She wasn't ready to settle down. In a rage, he drove straight back to Greenwich and knocked on the door three blocks from his own.

She didn't care at first. She believed love could grow over time.

A year into the marriage, she gave birth to Knox. She and Asher grew closer. To the outside world, they were the picture of a happy family.

Then, a month ago, Olivia Summers came back.

It was like he'd forgotten the hundred rejections at Yale. He couldn't stay away from her. The concern. The tenderness. The nights that stretched later and later. Knox started tagging along.

She had believed six years of marriage and five years of motherhood meant something. That somewhere in their hearts, she mattered.

Today, that fantasy finally shattered.

Six years. She had never managed to warm Asher's heart. And the child she had carried inside her own body―he had no more room for her than his father did.

Bang!

The door slammed open. Elena looked up. A tall figure and a small one stood at the entrance. Asher nudged Knox forward, his expression stern. "Go. Apologize to your mother."

Knox twisted his fingers together. He shuffled toward her bed, step by reluctant step. His voice was barely a whisper. "Mom, I'm sorry."

Elena turned her head away. She didn't miss the unwillingness in his eyes.

Asher's voice was heavy. "Knox didn't know. He wasn't aware of your peanut allergy. I've already disciplined him. He won't give you anything with peanuts again."

"A merger deal at the office hit a snag. I saw you were still unconscious, so I went back to handle it."

It was the height of summer. The air outside was thick with heat. Elena had never felt colder.

She had been awake for hours. Asher hadn't sent a single message. And the only two sentences he'd spoken since walking in were both lies.

He frowned at her silence. "It's your birthday. Don't stay angry at a child."

"My son and I prepared a gift. See if you like it. You can wear it once you're discharged."

He pulled out a classic Tiffany blue box. Inside lay a diamond necklace―something they'd clearly grabbed on the way over from Greenwich Avenue.

Elena glanced at it and looked away. "I have a gift for you both too."

Asher looked puzzled. "It's your birthday. Why are you giving us gifts?"

Knox stared at her with the same confusion.

A faint, liberated smile crossed her lips. "It's only fair to return the favor, isn't it? Don't worry. You'll see it in a few days. I'm sure you'll love it."

A signed divorce agreement. Exactly what you both wanted.