Chapter 2
As Selene sliced the cake in half, her hands trembled uncontrollably.
She slid one half of the cake across the table toward Dames. “Dames, I’m here to grant your birthday wish. From today on, I’m no longer your mom.”
“What is this nonsense?” Harrison’s voice cut through the room, cold and impatient. Selene looked at him, her gaze emptied of any lingering affection. “We’re getting a divorce. Daph will come with me. Dames is yours.”
“Mom, are you just being dramatic?” Dames‘ gaze held all of Harrison’s clinical coldness, unnervingly precíse for a boy who still needed a stepstool to reach the cookie jar.
“Can
you stop acting up? I never liked celebrating my birthday with you, because you always nag me about what I eat.‘
He glanced at the cartoon–covered cake in front of him with open disdain. “And I’m sick of your cakes. Today, I want the cake Flick brought me instead!”
Daph cried out, “Dames! You can’t just eat any cake from outside. You’ll have an allergic reaction!”
“There’s hardly any milk in it!” Felicity snapped, her tone edged with reproach. “He’s a boy. Don’t coddle him so much! The only reason Dames is still allergic to dairy is because you’ve been too careful, Selene, never letting him have any.”
Felicity bent down to look Dames in the eye. “Dames, do you trust me? You need to eat more cake with dairy in it. That’s how you’ll build up a tolerance, and soon, you won’t be allergic anymore!”
Dames nodded emphatically. “I trust Flick. Mom’s just a country bumpkin. She doesn’t know anything!”
Selene’s smile cracked, and the taste of blood filled her mouth; she could practically smell rust in the back of her throat.
Seven years married to Harrison, and his heart had never once warmed to her.
She’d raised Dames for five years–her own flesh and blood–only to have him turn those same ties into weapons against her.
“If you don’t like my cake, just throw it away.” It felt like razor blades were slicing her throat; her words tasted of iron.
1/2
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I
“Dames, I’ve always done everything I could to give you what you wanted. If you want a new mom, I’ll step aside for Felicity.”
She looked at her son. “This is the last time I’ll ever wish you a happy birthday.”
Selene took Daph’s hand gently. “Let’s go.”
She was done with her son, her husband, all of it.
“Selene.” Harrison called out, his handsome features frosted over with an icy arrogance. “You’re really taking what a child says seriously?”
“I am,” she answered quietly. “Tomorrow at three, Willowbrook City Hall. Don’t be late.”
She looked at Harrison–the man she’d loved for seven years–and all that was left in her eyes was resolve.
As she turned to leave, she caught sight of a tall, striking man standing in the doorway.
The light cast sharp shadows across his angular face, and he watched her with a cool, almost amused intensity, as if taking in the climax of a well–played drama.
Selene recognized him immediately: Adrian Shaw, the golden boy of The Capital Circle. On the surface, Harrison and Adrian were friendly, but beneath it, they were rivals through and through.
Harrison had thrown this birthday party for Dames and Daph, inviting the city’s elite, but even he must’ve been surprised Adrian showed up.
Felicity snapped Dames‘ seatbelt with practiced ease, then flung both hands skyward in mock astonishment. “Hey! Adrian, you actually came when I called!”
“I didn’t come for you,” Adrian replied coolly, not even glancing her way.
His gaze swept the room, but Selene was already gone.
Adrian let a sly smile curl his lips, a charming dimple flashing at the corner of his
mouth.
He turned to Harrison. “So, your wife’s divorcing you. Guess I’ll have to start calling her something else, huh?”
“She won’t divorce me,” Harrison said, his voice certain and unyielding.
