Left My Cheating Husband And Married His Boss

CHAPTER 1 Humming softly under my breath, I flipped the last slice of pancake and slid it onto the plate beside the crisp sausage. A glass of chilled apple juice sat beside it—just the way Daniel liked it. “Breakfast is ready,” I called, forcing a smile as I carried the plates into the dining room. “Mmm, smells amazing,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he rubbed his hands together like a child, ready to dig in. Watching him take that first bite and close his eyes in pleasure sent a small wave of relief through me. That was the reaction I’d longed for. “How does it taste?” I asked, settling across from him. “As good as it looks,” he said between bites. “You’ve outdone yourself again, Claire.” I smiled faintly, but my stomach was in knots. Hunger had little to do with why I sat there. I was simply stalling. Should I bring it up now? He was in a good mood and I knew from experience that it was the best time. If I waited, the chance might slip away, and once our son came downstairs, the conversation would be lost to cartoons and chatter. “Dan,” I began carefully, my eyes fixed on my untouched plate, “about that private academy you mentioned yesterday… I still think Ethan’s current school is good enough. I don’t see why we need to transfer him.” Daniel paused mid-chew, dabbing his lips with a napkin before meeting my gaze. “Julia said it’s the best option for him. Let’s just go with her recommendation.” My chest tightened. Julia again. Ever since Mrs. Julia Waverly — Daniel’s boss’s wife, took over the charity board of Waverly Holdings, she’d been meddling in more than just corporate affairs. Her influence had spread into our personal life, our son’s education, and even Daniel’s outlook on success. She had suggested moving Ethan to an elite prep school on the Upper East Side. A place where the children of billionaires and senators studied. The kind of school people like us only read about in magazines. “Dan, we’re his parents. We have the right to decide what’s best for him,” I said softly. “And there’s nothing wrong with his school now.” Daniel sighed, a sound halfway between exhaustion and dismissal. “Julia just wants the best for him. She has been helping all the employees’ families with scholarships, medical aid, and education programs. You’re overthinking this.” He stood and buttoned his suit jacket, clearly done with the conversation. But I couldn’t let it go. “That academy is for the children of CEOs and trust-fund heirs, Daniel. We’re not like them. Don’t you think that kind of pressure is too much for a nine-year-old?” His expression hardened. “Maybe that’s the point. I don’t want him to end up like us— middle-class, exhausted, and stuck.” His words cut deeper than I expected. I stared at him, speechless. Middle-class, exhausted, and stuck. That was how he saw our life? Before I could respond, small footsteps echoed down the stairs. Ethan appeared, his hair still messy from sleep, rubbing his eyes. “Good morning,” he yawned. “Morning, sweetheart.” I kissed his head, forcing warmth into my voice. “Morning, champ.” Daniel ruffled Ethan’s hair, leaned down to kiss my cheek, and grabbed his briefcase. “Don’t wait up tonight. We’ve got a board dinner.” When the door closed behind him, the silence left behind was heavy. “Eat up, honey,” I said, my voice quiet. “You don’t want to be late.” Later that morning, I drove Ethan to school, listening to him chatter about a funny story from his art class. I smiled where appropriate, but my thoughts were still on Daniel’s words. As we neared the school, something around Ethan’s neck caught my eye. It was a sleek, silver pendant. “Where did you get that?” I asked. “Oh, Mrs. Waverly gave it to me yesterday,” he said cheerfully, twirling it between his fingers. My grip tightened on the steering wheel. Of course she did. I exhaled slowly and decided to ask about the transfer. “Your dad mentioned that the new school Mrs. Waverly recommended. How do you feel about it? You can tell me if you don’t want to leave your friends.” His eyes brightened. “It sounds amazing, Mom! Mrs. Waverly said they have robotics and a swimming pool on the roof! Please, can I go?” I smiled faintly. “If that’s what you want, sweetheart, then that’s what we’ll do.” By the time we arrived, he was buzzing with excitement. I stepped out of the car with his lunch bag in hand just as a familiar sleek black Mercedes pulled into the lot. “Mrs. Waverly!” Ethan squealed, running to the elegant woman stepping out. She was breathtaking, as always. Tall, perfectly poised, her golden hair cascading in waves, a cream-colored dress hugging her slender frame with that signature diamond necklace glinting around her neck. Every movement radiated wealth and confidence. “Ethan!” she greeted warmly, crouching to hug him. I walked up, offering a polite smile. “Good morning, Mrs. Waverly.” “Claire, isn’t it?” Her green eyes swept over me with a smile that seemed quite unsettling. “It’s lovely to finally see you properly. Daniel always speaks so highly of you.” “Thank you. He says the same about you and Mr. Waverly,” I replied evenly. She laughed softly. “Oh, I’m sure he exaggerates. Anyway, I just wanted to check in on Ethan. He’s such a bright boy. I’m thrilled he’ll be joining the Waverly Academy soon.” I blinked. “So… it’s official?” Her perfectly glossed lips curved. “Of course. Daniel confirmed yesterday. You must be so proud.” I swallowed hard and smiled. “Yes. Very.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, assessing me. “You look exhausted, dear. You should take better care of yourself. A little rest would do wonders especially since Daniel’s been working so hard.” I forced a polite laugh. “It’s been a busy month.” “Well, take some advice from me.” Her tone softened, though her words still stung. “Work will always be there. But your son’s future, that’s what really matters.” Before I could respond, Ethan tugged on her hand. “Can we go now, Mrs. Waverly?” “Of course, darling.” She turned back to me with one last smile—the kind that made you question whether it was kindness or victory. “Don’t worry, Claire. He’s in good hands.” I stood there as they walked toward the building together, surrounded by other parents eager to greet her. For a moment, I just watched, my pulse uneven, my throat tight. Maybe I was overthinking it. Or maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t imagining the way she was slowly weaving herself into my family’s life.