Chapter 3

The printer hummed softly, spitting out the divorce papers I had finalized yesterday. I slipped them into a crisp manila envelope and turned my attention back to the monitor. On the screen was my half-written resignation letter.

I was no longer that foolish girl waiting for a prodigal husband to finally look her way. Seven years of this suffocating, hidden marriage were more than enough to shatter every last girlish fantasy I ever had.

"Tiffany, are you really resigning?" Sarah, a junior winemaker, whispered as she caught a glimpse of my screen.

I minimized the window and offered a small, practiced smile, effortlessly delivering the excuse I had prepared long ago. "Yes. Toby's father has settled down in Europe. I'm planning to take Toby there so we can finally be reunited as a family."

Sarah nodded sympathetically. "That's for the best. It must be so hard raising a child all by yourself here. You know... privately, everyone in the cellar just assumed you were a single mom."

The words felt like a needle straight to my heart.

I managed a laugh, though it tasted entirely of bitterness. I wasn't a single mother, yet my reality was far more pathetic. My husband was sitting in the luxurious owner's office just upstairs, yet I was raising our son in the shadows.

My eyes began to sting. I quickly took a deep breath, expertly pasting on a smile before Sarah could see my vulnerability.

"Well, since you're really leaving, you absolutely have to attend the Harvest Festival this weekend!" Sarah insisted, gently grabbing my arm. "It'll be your last event at Blackwood Estate. We all want to give you a proper send-off."

My first instinct was to refuse. I just wanted to take Toby and escape this place as soon as possible. But then I remembered the way Toby’s eyes sparkled whenever he walked through the vineyards. He had winemaking running through his veins. I owed him one last beautiful memory on this land.

"Alright," I agreed reluctantly, suppressing the sudden unease in my chest. "Just this last time."

The Napa Valley Harvest Festival was the grandest event of the year.

Tradition dictated that the estate owner and their family would stomp the first batch of harvested grapes together under the sun, praying for a bountiful vintage.

Two days ago, Toby had finally mustered the courage to hand Graham a hand-drawn invitation. It was only the second time he had ever dared to invite his father to anything.

Surprisingly, Graham had been in a decent mood. He casually agreed, "Alright. Wait for me at the East Vineyard this Saturday at 10 AM."

Riding on that promise, Toby was so excited he barely slept for two nights straight.

Saturday arrived with a brutally scorching Napa sun. Dressed in his favorite little overalls and a straw hat, Toby stood right on time in the East Vineyard.

10:00 AM. 10:30 AM. 11:00 AM...

The sun beat down mercilessly. Toby’s forehead was drenched in sweat, his small face flushed beet-red. My heart ached as I walked over with a water bottle. "Toby, sweetie, it's too hot. Let's go wait in the shade, okay?"

"No, Mommy," Toby shook his head stubbornly, his eyes fixed dead on the main house. "Uncle Graham said to wait here. If I leave and he can't find me, he'll be mad."

By high noon, Graham was still nowhere to be seen.

Just then, a cheerful voice echoed through the estate’s loudspeakers. It was Elaine on the microphone: "A huge thank you to Graham, who specially cleared his entire schedule today to accompany Leo for the 'First Crush' ceremony at the main venue. Leo is absolutely thrilled..."

Through the speakers, I could hear Graham’s gentle, indulgent laughter, followed by Leo’s wild, unrestrained cheering.

In that exact moment, I watched the light in Toby’s eyes die completely.

His tiny body swayed. Suddenly, he clutched his arms and collapsed into a crouch, groaning in pain.

"Toby!" I screamed, rushing over.

His arms had broken out in a dense, angry rash, and his breathing was growing short and ragged. He had a mild allergy to a specific pollen triggered by prolonged exposure to direct sunlight, which was why he usually only visited the vineyards at dawn or dusk.

I scooped him up like a madwoman and rushed him to the town clinic.

The doctor immediately administered an antihistamine shot and snapped a yellow medical alert bracelet onto his tiny wrist.

"What kind of parent are you? How could you let your child roast in the sun for that long without noticing?" the doctor scolded me harshly.

My eyes were red, but I couldn't say a single word. I just held my weak, exhausted boy tightly in my arms.

It wasn't until late afternoon that Graham finally remembered his forgotten promise and showed up at the clinic.

His eyes caught the yellow bracelet on Toby's wrist, and a flicker of discomfort crossed his face. But he quickly masked it with defensive self-righteousness. "I didn't mean to forget. It’s Leo’s first time at the Harvest Festival, and he was a little scared of the crowds. I had to stay at the main venue to comfort him. Toby has lived on the estate for seven years. This festival happens every single year. Why did he even feel the need to join in on the fuss?"

Join in on the fuss?

I stared at this cold-blooded man and suddenly let out a laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" Graham frowned, looking at me as if I were completely unreasonable.

"Nothing." I dropped the smile, my eyes turning as cold as ice. "You're absolutely right, Graham. Other people’s children do need more care."

Because my child will never need you again.

I turned around and gently stroked Toby’s pale cheek. Toby weakly opened his eyes, glanced once at Graham, and then silently turned his head away, burying his face deep into my chest.

No crying. No questioning. Just a dead, deafening silence.

Graham. You’re down to your very last chance.