Chapter 1
I was planning my father's sixtieth birthday celebration, and a month beforehand, I had made my husband, Warren Smith, promise he would be there.
Ever since my mother passed away, what my father wanted most was for his son-in-law to raise a toast to him in front of the family.
Warren agreed right away. "Relax. No matter how busy things get, I'll be there. Your dad's getting the first toast."
On the day of the party, all three tables were packed with relatives. Wearing his brand-new outfit, my father looked toward the door every few minutes.
But Warren never came. His phone was off.
The relatives started murmuring among themselves. My father kept smiling and making excuses for him, saying traffic must have held him up and that he would arrive soon.
I was sweating with anxiety. I opened w******p, planning to message one of his colleagues, but a f*******: post from his secretary, Lucy Quinn, caught my eye instead.
My cousin, Julia Lynn, suddenly tugged on my sleeve and held out her phone.
On the screen, Warren stood in a tailored suit, wine glass in hand, toasting a strange middle-aged woman with a smile on his face.
Lucy stood beside him, grinning as she said, "Mom, see? I told you the truth. My husband treats me like a queen."
My head rang. I scrolled down and found Lucy replying in the comments.
Lucy: [Warren's wife, Summer, is really wonderful. She was the one who insisted Warren come help us.]
I handed the phone back to Julia, picked up the drink that had been prepared for my father, and emptied it in one swallow.
Then I rose to my feet.
"Dad, with all our relatives here today, I want you to be my witness. I'm getting a divorce."
Every head at the table snapped toward me.
"Summer, are you really going through with this? Announcing it at Uncle's birthday party isn't exactly the best timing." Julia lowered her voice and tightened her grip on my wrist.
"That's right, Summer. Warren must've had something urgent come up if he missed your father's celebration. That's hardly a reason to end a marriage," my second aunt added.
I glanced at the table of food that had barely been touched, then at my father, sitting slightly hunched in the seat of honor.
"Dad, I'm sorry. I've ruined your birthday."
I lifted my glass and drank to him.
My father waved it off, his eyes already red.
"If you've made up your mind, I support you. Worse comes to worst, come home. I will always look after you."
The moment the words left his mouth, my phone on the table began to vibrate.
Warren's name lit up the screen.
I answered and put the call on speaker.
"Summer, has the party ended yet?" Warren sounded drained.
"It just finished."
"Good. Lucy's mom suddenly had a breakdown back in her hometown today. She kept accusing Lucy of being someone's mistress and even threatened to take sleeping pills. Lucy's just a girl. There was no way she could deal with that alone. I had to help her put on a show and calm her mother down."
"Oh."
"What do you mean? Did you explain it to Dad? Don't let him mistake things. I was only helping out. Lucy's my assistant. If something happened to her, was I supposed to ignore it?"
"I already explained."
Silence hung on the line for two seconds.
Normally, whenever he stood me up because of Lucy, I would confront him about it. It always ended the same way, with a fight, a slammed door, and days of cold silence.
"You're not upset?" he asked carefully.
"No."
"Summer!" Lucy's voice came through, thick with tears. "Summer, please don't blame Warren. It's all because of me. My mom kept pressuring me to bring a boyfriend home. I was desperate, so I asked Warren to help."
"Why are you explaining yourself to her?" Warren soothed her softly. "We did nothing wrong. There's nothing to be ashamed of."
Then his tone hardened when he addressed me.
"Summer, stop being so narrow-minded. Lucy's in a fragile state right now. I'm staying here tonight to keep an eye on her. I won't be coming home."
"Okay."
"You..."
"Warren, Mom wants us!" Lucy called out urgently.
"Coming!" he replied immediately. Then he turned back to me. "Summer, I'm hanging up. Be the bigger person here."
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The call disconnected.
Be the bigger person?
For five years, I had been the bigger person—so much so that he started believing he could keep crossing my boundaries without consequence.
I stood up and grabbed my coat. "Dad, I'm going home. I'll call the lawyer tomorrow."
