1

The first time I caught my husband Tony Henson in bed with another woman, it was in our own home.

The woman was Faith Whitney, the so-called best friend he always swore was "like a brother" to him.

I lost it. Ran straight into the street. Tony shoved me out of the way and took the hit himself, a delivery truck slamming him into a severe concussion.

When he woke up, every memory was gone. Every single one, except me. He knelt at the side of his hospital bed, tears streaming down his face, begging me not to leave.

"If I can't be with you, I'd rather die."

I looked at the scars crisscrossing his scalp, the ones he'd gotten saving me, and my heart caved. Faith, meanwhile, conveniently left the country.

For five years after that, Tony treated me like a princess. I gave him everything in return. I was even carrying his child.

Then came his thirtieth birthday party.

He'd had too much to drink. His eyes were bloodshot, his face twisted with something that looked like resentment.

"My own son is five years old, and I've never once heard him call me Dad!"

I assumed the alcohol was talking. He'd forgotten our baby hadn't even been born yet.

A few relatives nearby frantically signaled for him to shut up. He ignored them, the liquor loosening his tongue further.

"You all really think I lost my memory? That I forgot Faith has a five-year-old son?"

……

Silence.

Then Tony hurled his champagne flute at the floor. Glass exploded across the marble.

At that exact moment, the doors to the private dining room swung open from the outside.

Faith Whitney walked in, leading a little boy dressed in a custom-tailored suit.

Around her neck hung the sapphire necklace Tony had bid three million dollars for at an auction last month. He'd told me he lost it on the way home.

Patsy Henson shot up from the head table and rushed over. She scooped the five-year-old into her arms without a second's hesitation.

"Oh, my precious grandson! Let Grandma get a good look at you."

The boy wrapped his arms around her neck like he'd done it a hundred times before.

"Grandma, I missed you and Daddy so much."

Patsy fished a thick envelope of cash from her pocket and tucked it into the boy's suit jacket.

"Grandma missed you too, sweetheart. You're staying home from now on. No more going anywhere."

I stood frozen, watching the scene unfold.

Not a single relative in the room looked surprised.

Tony's aunt even stepped forward and stroked the boy's hair.

"He's the spitting image of the Hensons. Those eyes, that brow line, he looks exactly like Tony did as a kid."

His uncle chimed in right behind her.

"Blood doesn't lie. It was only a matter of time before he came home where he belongs."

I turned to look at Tony.

He was leaning back in his chair, tie loosened, watching Faith and her son with a lazy smile on his lips.

"Tony, what is this?"

He dropped the smile. Stood up. Walked over to Faith and wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Exactly what it looks like."

"Five years of faking amnesia. I'm done."

He jabbed a finger toward my face, his voice bouncing off every wall in the banquet hall.

"You managed me like I was an idiot. No bars. No friends. You interrogated me over every single drink at a business dinner."

"You think that's love? You're a control freak!"

I stared at his hand resting on Faith's waist.

"Five years. You've been lying to me for five years."

Tony let out a cold scoff, pulled a document from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, and slapped it on the table.

"So what if I have?"

"I already had my lawyer draft a share transfer agreement."

He swept his gaze across every relative in the room and raised his voice another notch.

"Since we're all here for my thirtieth birthday, let me make an announcement."

"I'm transferring half the assets under my name to Faith and my son."

"Consider it compensation for the five years they spent in exile because of me."

Patsy walked over and seized my wrist.

"You're pregnant yourself now, almost a mother. You need to be the bigger person."

"Faith was all alone raising that child overseas. It's only right that Tony sent her some money."

"Accept the boy, and he'll call you 'Mom' too. The Henson family will finally have a proper firstborn grandson."

I wrenched my hand free.

"Accept him? Your entire family has been spending my money to bankroll your son's mistress, and now you want me to just accept it?"

Tony's face was flushed deeper with alcohol, but his eyes held a sliver of ice.

I stepped back. A sharp, cramping pain tightened across my belly.

"These past five years, I've taken care of you in every way imaginable. I treated you like a princess." His voice was low, almost bored. "Isn't everything I've done proof enough that I love you?"

"Faith came back because a child needs his father. She's not asking for a title."

Faith leaned into Tony's chest, her eyes rimmed red.

"Tony, please don't blame her. This is all my fault. I never should have brought Rufus back."

Tony patted her shoulder, soothing her.

"This has nothing to do with you. This is what you and Rufus deserve."

I stared at the lot of them, my nails digging crescents into my palms.

"Tony, every asset under your name came from the company shares and dividends I gave you."

"You used my money to take care of her?"

He stepped forward, towering over me.

"That was what you owed me."

He tilted his head, exposing the scar that ran along his hairline. "See this? If I hadn't saved your life, you'd be dead."

The birthday party dissolved after that.

Tony drove Faith and Rufus straight back to our house.

He fished out his key, unlocked the front door, and waved at the movers waiting on the curb.

"Bring everything inside."

I stood in the foyer and watched the workers file past me carrying small suitcases.

Tony pointed toward the room at the end of the second-floor hallway.

"Clear that room out. It's Rufus's now."

That was the nursery I had spent three months putting together, my heart full of hope the entire time. I'd lined the walls with non-toxic wallpaper, ordered a custom crib, and filled the shelves with a matching set of prenatal learning toys.

I climbed the stairs and planted myself in the doorway.

"This is my baby's room. Nobody touches it."

Tony came up behind me, grabbed my arm, and yanked me aside.

"The thing in your belly hasn't even been born yet. What does it need a whole room for?"

"Rufus is five. He needs his own space."

He turned and barked at the workers.

"What are you standing around for? Throw all that junk out!"

They swarmed into the room.

The imported crib was dismantled into planks and hauled out.

The pure-cotton baby clothes I'd picked out myself were tossed in a heap on the hallway carpet.

Faith led the boy upstairs.

She surveyed the wreckage on the floor and pressed a hand over her mouth.

"Please don't be upset. Tony just feels bad that Rufus doesn't have a place to sleep. If it bothers you, Rufus and I can stay at a hotel."

Tony grabbed her hand immediately.

"This is your home. I'd like to see anyone try to make you leave."

The boy yanked free of Faith's grip and ran to the pile of discarded things. He stomped down on the folded baby clothes, grinding his shoe back and forth.

Then he crouched, reached into a cardboard box, and pulled out a small carved wooden horse.

Five years ago, Tony had carved it for me by hand, right after he was discharged from the hospital. He'd sat on the balcony with bandages still wrapped thick around his head, a carving knife turning in his fingers. Wood shavings had dusted his lap, his arms, his shoulders.

He'd placed the finished horse in my palm and told me that someday he'd carve an entire set of wooden toys for our children.

I'd kept that wooden carving in the glass cabinet in the nursery all this time.

The boy picked up the rocking horse and tossed it in his hands.

"So ugly!"

He hurled it at the floor with all his strength.

The rocking horse hit the hard marble and shattered instantly, splintering into pieces.

Still not satisfied, the boy walked over to the largest fragment and stomped on it.

Wood chips flew everywhere.

I rushed forward, grabbed the boy by the shoulders, and pulled him away.

"What are you doing?!"

The boy dropped to the floor on cue, threw his head back, and wailed at the top of his lungs.

"Daddy! She hit me!"

Tony strode over and shoved me hard in the shoulder.

I lost my footing and slammed into the hallway wall. A dull ache bloomed across my back.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Tony jabbed a finger in my face.

"It's a piece of junk! It broke, so what? You're really going to pick a fight with a child over that?"

I braced myself against the wall and steadied my feet, my eyes fixed on the shattered rocking horse on the floor.

"You carved that for me with your own hands five years ago."

Tony let out a cold laugh, his gaze dripping with contempt.

"Five years ago my brain was scrambled. I could've carved a piece of garbage and you would've treated it like a treasure."

He bent down, scooped the boy into his arms, and patted his back to soothe him.

Faith walked over, pulled a hundred-dollar bill from her purse, and held it out to me.

"Flora, kids don't know any better. Here, take this and go buy yourself a new one."

I didn't take the money. My eyes stayed locked on Tony.

"Do you really have to destroy everything that's mine?"

Tony looked down at me from his full height and pointed to the long scar running across his forehead.

"If you hadn't run into the street like a lunatic that day, would I have gotten these scars all over my head trying to save you?"

"It's been years. Are you really going to hold one mistake over me forever?"

"I owe Faith a real family. What exactly do you have to feel sorry for yourself about?"

The next morning, I was sitting in the dining room.

Tony slapped a document down on the table.

Across the top, in bold letters: Parental Recognition Agreement.

"Sign it."

He pulled out a chair and sat down, rapping his knuckles on the table.

"Rufus has an interview at Stratton Academy next week."

"The school requires both parents to be present, and the child has to be a legitimate dependent registered under a local household."

"You'll issue a statement acknowledging Rufus as your biological son and register him under your name."

I looked at the agreement, then pushed it off the table onto the floor.

"Not a chance."

Tony slammed his palm against the table.

"Don't push your luck!"

"Faith is willing to let her own son call you 'Mom' for the sake of keeping the peace. What more could you possibly want?"

I stood up and looked him dead in the eye.

"Tony, let's get a divorce."

He froze for a second, then let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

He bent down, picked up the agreement, and tore it in half.

"Divorce? In your dreams."

He pulled out his phone and dialed the CFO.

"Luke Lawrence, cancel every credit card under my wife's name. Every single one, primaries and supplementaries."

"Any funds moving through the company accounts require my signature. Not a cent goes to her without it."

He hung up and immediately dialed another number.

This time, he put it on speaker.

"Mr. Lin, regarding next quarter's partnership, our company has decided to terminate your supply contract."

An anxious voice crackled through the phone.

"Mr. Henson, you can't be serious. We've been partners for five years. Mrs. Henson has personally managed this account the entire time..."

Tony cut him off.

"I'm running the company now. I say it's terminated, it's terminated."