Chapter 2 Chapter 0002

•NATASHA•

On our way back home from the restaurant, Kyle said nothing to me. He kept his eyes glued to the cell phone that Lorene had bought him a few months ago for passing his math test.

Richard and I argued about it for days, and he'd tell me that Lorene was a good friend to him, so it would be rude to return her gift, even though I knew they were fucking each other behind my back.

Even when his mother and sister refused to admit that Richard was sleeping with Lorene, I knew that they were aware of what they were doing.

Richard's mother would even call me paranoid for thinking that Richard could date his work assistant.

This made me not confront Richard because I knew he would never tell me the truth.

"Kyle, I was thinking that we could have lasagna when we get home, and then your father will take you out again when he comes back," I said, looking at him.

He didn't answer as he typed on his phone, his eyebrows furrowed. I kept my eyes on the road for a moment before I glanced at him, waiting for his response.

I pulled into the driveway and put the car in park, my hands lingering on the wheel for a moment before I turned to him. "I got you something special for your birthday, sweetheart. It's in the back of the car. Do you want to see it?"

Kyle didn't even glance up from his phone. His thumbs moved quickly across the screen. "Lorene isn't answering me back. Something's wrong. She must be deeply hurt, so I am checking up on her."

"Baby, your father is with her right now. She's not alone. Can we please focus on you today? It's your birthday. I want to celebrate you," I murmured, reaching a hand toward him.

He pulled away before I could touch him. "I don't want to celebrate anything while Lorene is hurting. How can you not understand that?"

"Kyle, please—"

"No, Mom, stop." He finally turned to look at me, and the coldness in his eyes stole the breath from my lungs. "Stop trying so hard to be my mother. You failed already. You were gone all those months, and I needed someone. Lorene was the one who showed up. She was the one who took care of me and made sure I was okay. She was a good mother to me when you weren't even here."

Each word cut through me deeper than the last. I sat frozen, my mouth open but nothing coming out.

He grabbed his backpack, pushed the door open, and climbed out of the car without another glance in my direction. I watched him walk toward the house and disappear inside.

I pressed my hand against my chest, right over the scar hidden beneath my shirt, the one from the surgery that had almost taken my life.

I had been fighting to survive while my son and husband built a life with another woman. I had nearly died, and they had been playing house without me.

My entire world tilted under my feet watching my son act as if he didn't need me in his life anymore. He seemed to have forgotten that I was his mother and had been there for him his entire life.

It felt as if ever since I came back home from my last surgery four months ago, I had become invincible to the people who once cared for me.

When I finally walked into the house, Richard's mother was standing near the staircase, waiting for me with her arms folded tightly across her chest. I barely had time to remove my coat before she spoke.

"Natasha, I think you need to be a little more sympathetic toward Lorene," she muttered. "That woman has done more than her job required. She's not just Richard's assistant. She practically became family to Richard and Kyle while you were away. She cooked for them, drove Kyle to school, and encouraged him. She stepped in when no one else could."

I shook my head because that was bullshit. She and Katie were there. Lorene didn't need to step in as my son's mother.

I scoffed. "I was in the hospital, fighting for my life. I wasn't avoiding my responsibilities as a mother or a wife. I had no control over what happened to my body."

"I understand that," she answered. "But two years of going in and out of hospitals is a long time, Natasha. Richard and Kyle needed someone there. They needed stability. You can't fault them for turning to the person who gave them that."

"Oh," I huffed. "Mrs. Martinez," I murmured, "I always knew I wasn't your favorite daughter-in-law. But I never expected you to stand here and defend your son while he cheats on me under my own roof."

Her eyes narrowed, though her voice stayed even. "I'm not condoning what he's doing. I would never tell you cheating is acceptable. But your heart condition is fatal, Natasha. You know this. The doctors have told you this. At some point, you have to consider giving him the chance to be happy, even if that happiness isn't with you."

Her words hollowed me out in a way I hadn't expected. I stood there, staring at the woman who had never truly welcomed me into this family, now telling me that my own mortality was reason enough to hand my husband over to someone else.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to ask her how she could call something so cruel as just practical advice.

But my throat closed up, and the only thing I could manage was to walk past her without another word, climb the stairs, and lock myself inside my room before the tears came again.

I sat on the edge of the bed, pressing my palm against my chest, and thought about the envelope waiting in my closet and the divorce petition letter in Richard's drawer.