The CEO and High-Schooler

"Mom, I want that one."

The sweet plea of my son's voice pulled me back from my thoughts.

I looked down to see my three-year-old pointing eagerly at a cake behind the glass counter, his big eyes filled with hope.

The saleswoman smilingly chimed in, "This is our latest creation, a peanut-flavored cake with a whopping fifty percent peanut content. And it comes with our very own handmade Chocolate-Covered Peanuts! This is the last piece we have for today."

"I want that one, Mom." He wrapped his little arms around my leg, his determination clear—he was not leaving without that cake.

Memories flooded my mind.

It was my birthday, but it was also a haunting reminder of the past.

In my previous life, my son had a severe peanut allergy attack, just an hour after eating! However, I had bought a strawberry cake, not a peanut one.

I had been so careful, checking everything he ate to make sure there was not even a trace of peanuts. How did he still have an allergy reaction?

My fingers pinched each other as confusion clouded my thoughts.

Then, my phone buzzed—a voice message from my mother-in-law.

"Joyce, we're out of the allergy meds at home.

"About Brian's peanut allergy... be careful and don't get anything with peanuts in it."

Her voice was gentle, carrying the same caution as in my previous life.

There, in front of me, my son's playful face seemed to merge with the pale, lifeless one from that day.

A chilling thought crossed my mind.

I did not respond to my mother-in-law's message.

Turning to the saleswoman, who was sweetly entertaining my son, I forced a smile. "Could you pack that up for me? And could you add extra peanut powder on top?"

The saleswoman quickly wrapped up the cake, then dusted it with a soft layer of peanut powder. It looked irresistible.

My son beamed up at me, his wish granted. "Mom, you're the best. I love you!" he said.

I tousled his hair gently. "Listen, if you really like it, have a little more later, just don't waste any, okay?"

"Sure! I'll finish every last bite!" My son held up three fingers in a solemn promise, then planted a joyful kiss on my cheek.

He cradled the cake like it was his most prized possession, blissfully unaware that a single bite could be fatal.

Back at home, my husband and mother-in-law were in the midst of party preparations.

The birthday gathering was well-attended, mostly by friends James Clark and I both knew.

"Honey, you're back."

James wrapped his arms around me in his usual way. "Go slip into your new dress. You're the belle of the ball today, so you've got to look stunning."

I cast my eyes down and gave a small nod. "Alright."

Slipping into the only white dress in my closet felt like reliving my previous life.

No sooner had I zipped up than a ruckus erupted outside.