He Chose Her, I Left with My Daughter

"What are you talking about?" Connor Steele's sharp eyes flashed with sarcasm. "I cleared my schedule today just to celebrate with you. Don't be a buzzkill."

He pulled a fancy watch from the gift box and moved to slip it onto my wrist. "Your anniversary present."

The watch had a cool, unique face and a shiny band. I recognized it right away—the same rare piece he and his alumna, Ashley Davenport, had bid on at a high-end auction.

Once, I'd treasure anything from him, even a random flower he picked off the street, and keep it like it was gold. But now? I just yanked my hand away. "Don't bother. Just put it down."

He frowned, fighting to keep his cool. "Why the attitude? Mad I got home late? Ashley's cat went missing, and she freaked out. I spent hours helping her find it, so yeah, I missed our dinner."

Ashley was his junior from college, the one he had been hooking up with in all sorts of ways.

I stared him down, thinking back to when our dog got sick, throwing up and having diarrhea. Panicked and clueless, I had called him, but he had brushed me off irritably. "Just take it to the vet. Don't bug me with every little thing. I'm in the middle of an important deal."

Holding back my tears, I had rushed the dog to different vets, stayed up for the IV treatments, and nursed it back to health.

Now, for a similar emergency, he blew off our big anniversary to help Ashley.

Connor narrowed his eyes. "Seriously? Digging up old records now? Blaming me for not pampering you or giving you more cash? You married me and had my child. You've got the title and the wealth, while Ashley has nothing. Why are you giving me that attitude?"

His words hit hard, my heart twisting up before I could even react. I got what he meant: I had the spot as his wife, so I shouldn't expect his love or attention.

His face got darker, but he caught himself and softened up a bit. "Okay, fine. Go get Evie. We'll open some wine and make this anniversary count."

He popped open an expensive bottle like a pro and poured me a glass.

After every fight, he'd do some small thing to smooth it over, and I'd go along with it. That was our unspoken deal for ten years. But not anymore.

I reached out, and he thought I was taking the glass. Instead, I pushed it away, and the wine splashed all over the floor.

"Are you done yet?" Connor hissed. "You're fussing over it all night. If you don't want to celebrate the anniversary, then forget it."