But the slap never landed on Khalil’s face.
Adriana yanked him behind her and took the blow for him.
She shoved me hard to the ground, glaring at me with fury.
“Allen! What are you doing?!”
Khalil pouted, eyes full of a fake grievance. “Adriana, I was just trying to comfort Allen... I didn’t want him to feel too sad about losing the baby.”
“But he got jealous and said I stole the future position as chairman’s husband, then tried to dump slop on me. I panicked and pushed him—it wasn’t on purpose! I even apologized, but he tried to hit me. He said he wanted my child to grow up fatherless!”
Before I could say a word, Adriana turned to me, her face was clouded with gloom. “Allen, I never knew you were such a vain, petty man.”
“You couldn’t protect our child because you’re weak. Why take it out on Khalil? He was just being kind to you. Stop coveting what doesn’t belong to you. Apologize to him. Now.”
I’m weak?
I looked at her face—so familiar, yet suddenly so foreign.
“Adriana,” I asked quietly, “those babies I lost... where did you really send their bodies?”
She frowned.
“Of course I buried them properly. I’ve told you that before.”
Tsk. The Oscars owed her an award. She was a remarkable actress—her lie almost sounded sincere.
I took a slow breath.
“You’re right, Adriana. I shouldn't have wished for something that was never mine. Don’t worry—I won’t fight Khalil anymore.”
With that, I turned and walked away without hesitation.
Adriana stared after me, a flicker of unease flashing across her face. She opened her mouth to call out to me—but Khalil tugged on her arm.
“Adriana... the slop splashed on me. I think I’m having an allergic reaction. Will you take me to the hospital?”
She hesitated for two seconds. Then she stayed with him.
Back at home, I gathered everything Adriana had ever given me over the years—every gift, every letter, every memory.
I tossed it all into a metal burner.
Just as I pulled out our marriage certificate, my phone buzzed with a message.
I glanced at it and saw Khalil's name popped up.
[Allen, I pretended to have an allergic reaction—and Adriana panicked. She called the top dermatologists from all over the country to rush in and treat me.]
[Even if they weren’t local, she insisted on flying them in by helicopter. Aren’t you jealous?]
I didn’t reply.
I watched our marriage certificate curl and blacken in the flames—reduced to ashes.
I wasn’t worried Adriana would see. Because I knew—she wasn’t coming home tonight.
Sure enough, her call came later that evening.
“Allen, Khalil’s allergic reaction got worse. He’s really uncomfortable. Melissa is overseas on bed rest, so as her aunt, I have to help take care of him. Don’t be upset.”
I remembered the picture Khalil had sent earlier.
He was lounging comfortably, eating fruit that Adriana had cut herself—his skin was glowing, without a trace of discomfort.
“I understand,” I said calmly. “The patient comes first. Take good care of him.”
She paused, then softened her voice.
“Allen, I didn’t mean to be harsh with you today. I know you’re grieving the baby.”
“But Khalil is the father of the Lawson family’s future heir. You and I... we can’t carry on the family line anymore. If anything happens to him, and Melissa gets upset, I’m afraid my parents wouldn’t be able to bear it.”
I almost laughed.
Why bother making so many excuses?
“Just stay home, okay? Tomorrow is your birthday. I booked the best hotel and prepared a big surprise. I’ll come pick you up first thing in the morning.”
But morning came and went.
And still—she didn’t return.
I placed the signed divorce papers neatly on the table.
Then I scheduled a voice recording to send to her automatically.
Recipient: Adriana.
After tying up all the loose ends, I picked up my suitcase—and headed for the airport.
