2

Jenny POV

The Ferrari was parked outside a restaurant I didn’t recognize.

Daniel had called it their favorite, but I was certain I had never been here before.

After paying the driver in a rush, I stepped out just in time to see Alex take Daniel’s hand and lead him inside, smiling like he didn’t have a care in the world.

A discreet sign by the entrance caught my eye.

Dress Code Required.

My stomach tightened.

I yanked off my apron and tossed it into a nearby trash bin, smoothed my wrinkled clothes, and hurried after them.

I was moving so fast that I didn’t notice someone stepping directly into my path.

“Ouch!” The woman I collided with stumbled backward, grabbing onto a waiter to steady herself.

“Where did this reckless woman come from? Watch where you’re going! If you ruin my dress, you couldn’t afford to—Jenny?” The woman stared at me in surprise.

I looked up.

“Anna?” 

Standing in front of me was Anna Walsh—my older sister.

The person who hated me most.

The reason I left home seven years ago and swore never to look back.

She let out a short, mocking laugh.

“No wonder someone so reckless would show up in a place like this. So it’s you, Jenny. What are you doing here?”

Of all days. Of all places.

We hadn’t seen each other in seven years—and she had to appear now.

I didn’t have time for this.

I needed to know who my husband and son were meeting. That was all I care for now.

“We’ll talk later,” I said quickly, trying to step past her.

But Anna, who normally treated me like I didn’t exist, suddenly seemed very interested in prolonging this encounter.

She grabbed my arm and refused to let me go.

“Why the rush? It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, sister…”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alex and Daniel nearing the end of the corridor, about to disappear around the corner.

Panic shot through me.

I wrenched my arm free and shoved her aside.

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped. “You slapped me in public and said I wasn’t worthy of being your sister. Remember?”

I hadn’t pushed her that hard. I only wanted her out of my way.

But Anna had clearly been waiting for an opportunity.

The second my fingers left her sleeve, she exaggerated the motion and collapsed backward, falling to the floor like a fragile branch caught in the wind.

“Ah—!” Her soft cry drew every nearby gaze.

She remained on the floor, perfectly positioned, soaking in the attention.

Her voice turned trembling and wounded.

“I only wanted to catch up with my sister,” she said loudly. “Was it really necessary to be so harsh, Jenny?”

Before I could defend myself, the waiter who had steadied her earlier shot me a dismissive look, his gaze lingering on my plain clothes.

He stepped forward, his tone sharpening.

“Ma’am, this is a private establishment. Please do not disturb our guests…”

“Wait—what? I didn’t push her—” I started.

Just then, Alex’s voice cut through the noise. 

“What happened?”

I turned and saw him set down what he’d been holding, his strides long and urgent as he headed straight for us.

Relief crashed over me.

Anna could play her old tricks all she wanted, but I wasn’t that helpless little girl anymore. I had Alex. He would see through this. He would stand by me. He would clear my name.

I must have been out of my mind to ever doubt him—running out in my homewearto this fancy restaurant, giving Anna the perfect chance to frame me.

But Alex didn’t even glance at me.

He went straight to Anna.

Even on the floor, she somehow managed to look delicate. Victimized. Beautiful.

And just before Alex reached her, she shot me a small, unmistakably triumphant glance.

Alex knelt immediately.

One arm slid behind her back, the other beneath her knees. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, holding her against his chest.

I had never seen his brows drawn so tightly.

I had never heard him speak in a voice softer than the one he used with our son.

Tears slid down Anna’s cheeks. He wiped them away gently. Helped her into a chair. Smoothed her slightly mussed hair.

My husband.

My sister.

The intimacy between them wrapped around my throat, tightening until I could barely breathe. For a moment, I couldn’t even speak.

The waiter, however, grabbed my arm even more roughly, clearly eager to impress the man he assumed Anna belonged to.

I stumbled, my shoes scraping loudly across the polished floor.

The sound made Alex turn.

Or perhaps it was Anna’s soft accusation that I had pushed her.

Either way—our eyes locked.

Shock flickered across Alex’s face. He clearly hadn’t expected to see me here at all.

Yet even so, he first gave Anna’s hand a reassuring pat, stood up, smoothed the collar she had slightly ruffled, and only then stepped toward me.

It was a humiliating, frozen moment. 

We were husband and wife, but we might as well have been strangers. 

He had just tended to my sister with a tenderness I once believed belonged only to me, while I was being dragged away like an unwelcome intruder who didn’t belong in a place like this.

I held my breath, waiting for him to say something—anything—to explain.

Instead, he glanced past me at the waiter and said evenly, “This is my wife. Let her go.”

The waiter stared, flustered. 

“Wait—really? I thought the lady you were comforting this whole time was your wife.”

But one sharp look at Alex’s cold, imposing demeanor and his expensive tailored suit was enough to silence him. He immediately let go and stepped aside.

Heat burned across my face.

I hurriedly smoothed down my clothes, unable to meet the waiter’s curious, judging stare.

Being nearly dragged out in public was humiliating enough.

But what cut deeper was watching my husband hold another woman so protectively in front of everyone.

I couldn’t even argue with the waiter’s mistake—not when the man who had rushed to catch her was my own husband.

Whenever Anna stood beside me, all eyes fell on her, all ears leaned to her.

But even in my worst nightmare, I had never imagined my husband would be one of them.

I must have looked pale, because Alex reached for my cold hand, his familiar concern returning to his voice—

When a child’s cry cut him off.

A little girl about Daniel’s age, dressed in pink and blue, ran out from the restaurant.

Daniel followed close behind her.

The girl rushed straight toward me, slammed into my leg, then turned to Alex and burst into shout.

“Daddy! I saw that bad woman bullying Mommy!”