Chapter 2

Whitney sped home after dropping Summer off at her house. She received a reply right after getting out of the car.

[I'll see you outside the courthouse in seven days.]

She smiled and put away her home. She entered the villa she had been sharing with Henry for the past five years. Everything looked the same as it did before she went into a coma. Their wedding picture was still hanging on the wall after eight years of marriage.

Whitney was smiling brightly in the picture, while Henry looked handsome and in high spirits. They were childhood sweethearts despite it being a marriage alliance. They had feelings for each other, and their wedding was known as a fairytale among their social circles.

Henry was a proud man who was willing to humble himself for Whitney. He would frequent clubs and bars, but gave them up after getting married.

Whitney had never cooked a day in her life, but learned to for Henry. Her fingers were eventually covered in blisters from being burned, yet she never complained.

If it were not for the accident, Henry would not have thought she would remain in a coma forever and found a substitute to comfort his pain. Could all of this have been avoided if the accident had not happened?

Whitney shook the thought out of her head. It was time to clear up everything in the house. "Mrs. Wagner, take the wedding photo off the wall and throw it away."

"But Mrs. Jordan, that's your favorite picture."

"It's not anymore." Whitney pointed in another direction. "You can throw those accessories away too."

"Mrs. Jordan, even though Mr. Jordan hasn't really been back to this villa since you were in a coma, things are different now that you're awake. You should try fighting for your marriage."

Whitney shook her head. "That isn't necessary."

Mrs. Wagner, the housekeeper, had no choice but to follow Whitney's instructions.

Whitney was feeling a little tired, and she was about to head upstairs for some rest when Henry returned. He barged into the house radiating fury, and Whitney knew that nothing good would be coming out of this.

Henry grabbed Whitney's arm the next second to accuse her, "You're such a scheming witch, Whitney! I thought you had changed after being in a coma for three years, but you're still as horrible as before! You placed a petal inside that envelope because you know that little Patrick is allergic to pollen. He's only a month old, and you already want him dead. Are you crazy?!"

"Allergic? What petal? What are you talking about?" Whitney flung his hand off her, remaining calm throughout. "I've always admitted to everything I've done, Henry. This is the first time I'm meeting this baby. How would I know that he's allergic to pollen? Even if I did, why would I leave behind evidence of my wrongdoing with that petal in the envelope?"

"That's because you're playing it smart with your scheme!" Henry refused to believe her, and it was like a stab to Whitney's heart.

"Believe what you want. I told you I didn't do it, and that's the truth." Whitney turned to walk away from him, but Henry's bodyguards stopped her. She was taken aback. "What are you doing?"

Henry's voice was cold, and he sounded like the devil. "I remember that you're allergic to peanut butter."

Whitney felt a chill in her heart, and she looked at him in disbelief. She had always been allergic to peanut butter, and even a small smidge of it would give her rashes all over and make her throat close up. In more serious cases, she would suffocate and pass out.

Henry knew this better than anyone else, which was why whenever they were out for their meals, he would remind the waiter over and over to make sure none of her dishes contained any peanut butter. "This is an eye for an eye. Lexie might be fine with letting this slide, but you've done something wrong, and you should have a taste of getting an allergic reaction."

The bodyguards pressed her down while the maid scooped up spoonfuls of peanut butter to push into her mouth.

Whitney tried her best not to swallow any, but the cold, sticky paste slid down her throat, and her allergic reaction came quickly. Rashes started to appear around her lips, and her throat started to close up. Whitney was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. She sat limply on the ground, trying to grab Henry's arm weakly. "Hospital… Take me to the hospital… I feel horrible…"

Henry was unperturbed. All he did was stare coldly at her. "Now you know how it feels. Didn't you think about how Patrick would feel when you put that petal near him to trigger his allergy? I'll take you to the hospital right away if you admit your mistake."

Whitney curled up into a ball, feeling terrible and in despair, but she remained stubborn. "I told you… It wasn't me…"

"You refuse to learn, don't you, Whitney?! I thought you'd changed, but all you did was become worse than before!"

Henry walked away in anger, but the maid suddenly exclaimed, "Mr. Jordan, Mrs. Jordan has passed out!"