The day after the car crash that made me lose my baby, my husband, Duncan Sanchez, lit up San Francisco Bay with a billion-dollar fireworks show to celebrate his mistress's birthday.
As the fireworks climbed, San Francisco's elite were placing million-dollar bets on which one I'd snap at.
Kay Henson came straight up to me, the corner of her mouth curling, her eyes full of mockery.
"Sister, have you heard the local legend? A billion in fireworks over San Francisco Bay means a match made in heaven, a love blessed by fate. But of course you wouldn't know that. Mr. Sanchez would never set them off for a barren old hen like you~"
The crowd burst out laughing, all of them waiting for me to lose it over my husband's affection, to beat her into a hospital bed the way I used to.
But I didn't. I just stood there, calm.
Duncan walked over and said, almost carelessly, "Annette Winfield, you've finally learned to behave instead of causing scenes. Soon you'll be a proper wife to me."
I tugged at the corner of my mouth at his condescension, and nothing stirred inside me.
From now on I'd never again have to school myself to endure his lack of love, or wear myself out trying to be a proper wife.
Because seven days ago, I'd found my birth parents. They were the richest family in New York, and soon I would be leaving Duncan. After that, we would never see each other again.
…
The fireworks cut off all at once, and Duncan and I stood face to face, none of the old tenderness left between us, only suspicion and probing.
I bit down on my lip, wanting to tell him our child was gone in that crash.
Then, from across the deck, Kay shrieked, beside herself with excitement, and every eye turned toward her. He let go of me without a thought.
"Duncan! I never imagined this would be my birthday gift. You're so good to me."
My gaze followed hers, and I recognized it at once. It was painted by Duncan's own hand, a girl in a sea of sunset flowers. Everyone knew he'd laid down his brush years ago, and now he had truly picked it up again, for her.
When she'd said it, she stepped to his side without the slightest hesitation, rose onto her toes, and kissed his lips. Amid the cheering and the catcalls, Duncan wrapped an arm around her waist and deepened the kiss.
The sight cut deep, and a bitterness welled up in my chest.
Three years ago, in a room full of guests, with everyone cheering, he'd swept me into his arms and kissed me hard, his voice shaking: "Thank you for agreeing to marry me. In this life I'll never love anyone but you."
When the long kiss ended, Kay had someone carry the painting over and set it before me, then leaned close to my ear and murmured.
"Annette, did he ever paint anything like this for you? No, he didn't, because you're not worth it."
My heart lurched, and I gave a bitter smile. Of course he had. The most reckless thing the eldest son of the Sanchez family had ever done in his life was learn to paint just to be with me, and hold an exhibition in my name.
When Duncan loved someone, he gave them the best of himself. It was only that none of that good was mine anymore.
"Yes. I wish you both well."
My voice was calm, none of my old sourness in it, no anger either.
She looked me up and down, her eyes settling on the jade bracelet at my wrist, and deliberately raised her voice. "Sister, this year what I want for my birthday is simple. Why don't you give me that jade bracelet on your wrist?"
At that, the whole crowd murmured about how far she was overreaching, and waited, smiling, to see what I'd do.
"Everyone says this bracelet, the one that marks the lady of the Sanchez house, carries a curse for any owner who can't win her beloved's love. Duncan doesn't love you anymore, so why not pass it to me and let me carry some of that for you?"
She watched me, taunting, like a gambler.
"A single firework is nothing. Kay Henson will never get that bracelet. Annette nearly died for it."
"Exactly. I don't believe she can really hold back this time. A million on it!"
In the middle of all that betting, I calmly slipped the bracelet off my wrist. Duncan stared at me and burst out, "Annette!"
I didn't look at him. I held the bracelet out to her, and the moment Kay's fingers closed on it, she let go on purpose. It dropped through the air and shattered with a crash, a hundred-year-old treasure broken to pieces.
A shard flew up and cut a thin line of blood across my shin. Kay shrieked, "Sister! If you didn't want to give it to me, you didn't have to smash it. This is one of the Sanchez family heirlooms!"
Then she lowered her head, looked at her own fingertips, and held her hand out to Duncan with a wounded little air. Pain flickered in his eyes, and he turned on me, his voice hard. "Annette, I thought you'd really become bigger than this. I should have known you're as petty as ever. Grandma never should have given you that bracelet in the first place. You were never worthy of it."
My eyes dimmed. The pain in my leg kept me clear-headed, and the bitterness in me went past words.
What gave Duncan the right to call me unworthy? Had he forgotten who pulled him out of that bloodied wreck back then, forgotten everything I'd done for the Sanchez family? After everything, all that was left was that I wasn't worthy.
Never mind. I'd be gone soon. None of it mattered.
I bent down, picked up the broken bracelet, and straightened. "I'm sorry. I didn't hold it steady. I'll have someone repair it and bring it back to you."
Maybe it was how calm I was, but the people around me looked startled.
"Has Annette lost it? She can take even this?"
"Obviously playing hard to get again, hoping Mr. Sanchez will feel sorry for her. So boring."
"Maybe she really has wised up. Scared of losing Mr. Sanchez and ending up with no one."
I pushed the grief down behind my eyes, and inside me something let go. You're all wrong. I hadn't wised up, and I hadn't lost my mind. I just didn't want to go on loving him like a fool anymore.
Duncan looked at me, something complicated moving behind his eyes. He opened his mouth, then said nothing.
The woman at his side took his hand and quickly spoke. "Since Sister didn't mean it, I won't hold it against her. Let's go cut the cake!"
Kay tugged him toward the center of the deck. A server wheeled out a hideously ugly cake, two little figures kissing perched in the middle of it. It was almost painful to look at.
He closed his hand over hers and drew the knife down through it, and when their eyes met, neither of them could hide the love in them. I lowered my head and gave a cold laugh.
A scene like this really was romantic. It would have been better if the leading man weren't my husband.
A figure stopped in front of me. She held out a slice of cake, her eyes bright with smiling.
"Sister, this is the birthday cake Duncan made just for me. The first slice goes to you. Thank you both for loving me."
I stared at the mango filling, and a tight ache spread through my chest as my stomach turned over. I forced the nausea down.
Duncan stood off in the distance, holding a glass of red wine, idly touching glasses with the people beside him, his gaze drifting now and then, carelessly, to me.
"Sister, why aren't you eating? Do you really hate me that much…"
I looked over at him again. He didn't stop her. He calmly tipped his head back and finished his wine.
Years ago, at a friend's birthday party, when the crowd egged me on to eat mango cake, he'd flipped the table on the spot and grabbed my hand. "I already said it. She's allergic. No one orders her to do anything."
After that, the whole city remembered I was allergic to mango. No one dared put it in front of me.
Under everyone's watching eyes, I scooped up a spoonful and pushed it down my throat. In an instant my whole body went numb, and a rash rose along my arms.
"No, you've misunderstood. I just drifted off." My breath jammed in my throat and I quickly set the cake down. I forced the words out. "I'm not feeling well. I'm going to head back."
A calculating gleam came into Kay's eyes, and she grabbed my wrist. "Sister, my party isn't over. Where are you going? Wait and let Duncan send you home."
I shoved her off hard, my mind going dim.
Kay fell backward with a scream, and at once he dropped his glass and rushed to her, catching her firmly in his arms. He roared at me, "Annette! It was bad enough you put her in the hospital before. Now you have to make trouble for her on her birthday too!"
I held onto the railing, fighting for air. "Help…"
Duncan paused, caught off guard. "What's wrong with you?" The woman in his arms spoke up suddenly.
"Duncan, I twisted my ankle. It hurts so much."
He carried her off at once, and under the jeering eyes of the crowd, I held onto my last bit of consciousness and dialed for an ambulance.
The man who once carried me to the hospital in the middle of the night just because I had a fever had finally drifted further and further away. My love for him ended here, and that was enough.
Everything blurred. Right before I lost consciousness, a message lit up on my phone.
"Annie, your records have been transferred back to the Winfields. Once your divorce is final, we'll come bring you home ourselves."
