"Mom! Tell Liam to stop stealing my potatoes!" Mia yelled from the dining table.
"They're just potatoes, brat," Liam shot back. "You have a whole mountain of them on your plate."
"They're my favorite! Mom made them specifically for me."
"Mom makes them every Thursday," Liam countered. "You're not special."
I wiped my hands on a dish towel and stepped out of the kitchen. "Both of you, stop arguing and eat your dinner. I spent three hours on that roast."
"It's amazing, Mom," Liam said, shoving a massive piece into his mouth. "Seriously, best one yet."
"Don't talk with your mouth full," I scolded gently. "And leave your sister's food alone. There's plenty in the bowl."
"Pass the gravy, then," Liam said to Mia.
Mia shoved the gravy boat across the table. "Here. Pig."
An obnoxious rap tune blared from the living room sofa. Liams phone alarm.
"Turn that off!" Julian called from the kitchen. The clinking of wine glasses followed his voice. "I'm pouring the Merlot, Clara. Coming right up."
"I'll get it," I said. "Liam, keep eating."
"Thanks, Mom!"
I walked over to the leather couch and grabbed the device. The screen glowed bright in the dim room. I swiped right to kill the alarm.
A text banner dropped down from the top of the screen.
*Dad: Porsche down payment made. Taking you and Mia to see little brother this weekend. Don't slip up.*
My thumb hovered over the glass.
Little brother? Porsche?
"Hey, Clara? Did you buy the good cheese?" Julian yelled from the kitchen.
"Yes, it's in the crisper drawer!" I yelled back.
I tapped the banner. The message thread opened.
*Liam: Awesome. Mia is hyped.*
*Dad: Just keep your mom busy tonight. I need to pack the bags.*
*Liam: Got it. Well tell her we need help with our history projects.*
I pressed the home button. My pulse thudded in my ears. I tapped the photo gallery icon.
Hundreds of thumbnails populated the screen.
I clicked the most recent album, labeled *Summer Trip*.
Julian stood on a sunny beach. Next to him was a blonde woman, easily ten years my junior. Liam and Mia flanked them.
And right in the center, my teenage son and daughter were hugging a little boy. He looked about five. He had Julians chin.
I swiped to the next photo.
Mia was holding the little boy on her shoulders, laughing loudly.
I swiped again.
A video. I tapped play, keeping the volume barely above a whisper.
"Say cheese, buddy!" Liam's voice came through the tiny speaker.
"Cheese!" the little boy yelled.
"Good job, Leo," the blonde woman said. She kissed the top of his head. "Look at your big brother. He's so tall."
"He's the best big brother," Julian added from behind the camera.
I paused the video.
They were all beaming. A perfect, happy family.
A family that didnt include me.
A short bark of laughter escaped my throat. I clamped a hand over my mouth.
"Did you find the phone?"
Julians voice came from right behind me.
I locked the device and tossed it back onto the cushions. I turned around.
He stood there holding two crystal goblets of red wine. He wore that same charming smile that had won me over fifteen years ago.
"Yeah, just an alarm," I said.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to my forehead.
Bile surged up the back of my throat. I swallowed hard to keep it down.
"You okay?" Julian asked. "You look pale."
"Just a headache," I said. My voice sounded remarkably steady.
I reached out and took the glass from his left hand. My fingers clamped around the stem. I squeezed until my knuckles turned bone-white.
"You always overwork yourself," he murmured. "Sit down. Enjoy the wine."
"Did you get the bonus at work?" I asked. I stared directly into his blue eyes.
"Not yet. Why?"
"Just wondering if we can afford a new car soon. Liam is getting his license next month."
Julian didn't miss a beat. "Maybe next year. Finances are tight right now. We need to save up."
"Right. Save up. But I saw a charge on the joint account yesterday. Something about a dealership?"
Julian chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Oh, that. Just getting the brakes checked on my truck. You know how those mechanics overcharge."
"Brakes," I repeated.
"Yeah. Safety first, right?"
"Absolutely."
"I'll talk to Liam about getting a part-time job," Julian added smoothly. "Build some character."
"That sounds like a great idea," I replied.
I walked past him and stood in the archway to the dining room.
Liam cut another slice of beef. Mia laughed at a joke he just made.
These were my children. I carried them. I raised them. I spent every waking moment making sure they were loved and protected.
And they had spent their summer vacation playing happy families with my husbands mistress and his bastard son.
They had sold me out for a luxury car.
I looked at Liams chewing mouth. I looked at Mias smiling face.
The motherly affection that usually warmed my chest vanished. Absolute, freezing disgust rushed into the empty space.
"How is the food, guys?" I asked. The words tasted like ash.
"So good," Mia said. "Can you make this again next week?"
"Maybe," I said. "Are you two ready for your history projects?"
Liam froze mid-chew. His eyes darted to mine.
"History projects?" he asked.
"Yes. You have them due on Monday, right? Do you need my help tonight?"
Liam swallowed hard. "Uh, no. I mean, we finished them at school."
"Really?" I raised an eyebrow. "That's fast. I thought Mr. Harrison assigned a ten-page paper."
"He did," Liam lied smoothly. "But I had study hall twice this week. Knocked it right out."
"Yeah, we worked through lunch," Mia chimed in. Her leg bounced nervously under the table. "We partnered up."
"Since when does Mr. Harrison allow cross-grade partnerships?" I asked.
Mia blinked. "He made an exception for us."
"Good," I said. "Then you have a free weekend. No homework at all?"
"None," Liam confirmed.
"Actually," Julian interrupted. He stepped up beside me and wrapped an arm around my waist. "I was just going to bring that up."
Julian pulled me flush against his side. His cologne hit my nose, smelling entirely too sweet.
"I'm taking the kids camping this weekend," he announced to the room.
Mia dropped her fork. It clattered against her ceramic plate.
"Camping?" she squeaked.
"Yeah," Julian said. He shot her a warning glare. "Up at the lake. Just a little father-kid bonding time."
"But Dad, there's no Wi-Fi at the lake," Liam protested weakly.
"You'll survive," Julian said. He looked down at me, his hand squeezing my hip. "You don't mind, do you, Clara? You could use a quiet weekend at home to relax."
"Are you sure?" I asked. "I could come with you. We haven't gone camping as a family in years. Remember the trip to Pine Ridge? We had so much fun."
"No, no," Julian insisted quickly. "You hate sleeping in tents. Plus, youve been complaining about your back. Stay here. Get a massage. Drink some wine."
"Mom, you really should stay," Liam added. "You hate bugs. You'd just be miserable."
"And dirt," Mia agreed. "We'll be fine with Dad. We're just going to rough it for a couple of days."
"Rough it," I repeated. "Where exactly are you going?"
"Silver Lake," Julian said without hesitation. "Got a spot reserved right by the water."
Silver Lake. Three hours away. Plenty of time to drive to whatever suburban house he was keeping his second family in.
"What about food?" I asked. "Do you want me to pack a cooler? I can make sandwiches."
"Don't worry about it," Julian said. "We'll grab hot dogs and beans on the way out of town. Keep it simple."
"Yeah, Mom, don't stress," Liam said. "Dad's got it covered."
They were so quick to push me away. So eager to get to their new family.
I tilted my head up and gave Julian a bright, wide smile.
"I think that's a wonderful idea," I said. "You three should definitely go."
"Thanks, babe. Youre the best."
"I know I am."
Julian walked over to the table and sat down. He immediately dove into a conversation with Liam about fishing gear.
"Make sure you pack the heavy sleeping bags," Julian told him. "It gets cold at night."
"I will," Liam said. "Can we stop for burgers on the way up?"
"Sure thing, buddy. Whatever you want."
"Can I bring my new tablet?" Mia asked.
"As long as you keep it in the tent," Julian said. "Don't drop it in the lake."
I stayed in the archway. My left hand still gripped the wine glass.
I slid my right hand into the pocket of my slacks. My fingers found my own phone.
I knew the keypad by heart. I didn't need to look.
I navigated to my messages. I selected the contact for Sebastian Reed. The most ruthless, expensive divorce attorney in the state.
My thumb moved over the screen. I tapped out the letters blindly inside my pocket.
*I want Julian bankrupt.*
I hit send.
