Chapter 1 Not as Good as Summer
Capital City, January 15.
In the deep of winter, snow like feathers drifted down thickly, blanketing the streets in white. But as pedestrians and vehicles passed, it quickly turned into a slushy, dirty mess.
A teal–blue Audi was parked by the roadside.
Claudia Sue, wrapped in a snow–white down coat and holding a bouquet of freshly bought roses, walked toward the car while dialing Alan Moore’s number.
Today marked their eighth wedding anniversary.
She’d finished work early, hoping to meet her husband for a private candlelit dinner— celebrating having made it past the infamous seven–year itch and into their eighth year of marriage.
No one answered the first call.
She tried twice more. Finally, after a long pause, a cold voice answered.
“What is it?”
Claudia’s smile faltered slightly, but she gently reminded him, “We made plans, remember? Dinner tonight, the place is-”
“Work. I’m busy.”
Before she could say another word, the call was cut off.
Claudia gripped the phone tightly. Standing in the wind and snow, a gust chilled her to the bone. She shivered instinctively, her heart sinking in disappointment.
Did Alan even remember what today was?
He’d agreed to this, yet time after time, he brushed her off. He couldn’t even spare her a dinner.
Suddenly, she felt so tired.
Claudia closed her eyes for a moment before forcing herself to pull it together and call her son, Andy Moore.
She’d already called her mother–in–law earlier to pick him up and take him to the family estate, all so she and Alan could enjoy a rare evening alone.
Now that dinner was off the table, she had to pick him up.
In a lavish corner of a high–end restaurant, a stunning, elegant woman sat across from a boy about six or seven years old.
The boy was absorbed in a brand–new game console, oblivious to the blinking call notification on the table.
The woman glanced at the caller ID “Mom“-and with a glint in her beautiful eyes, tapped to answer, hit mute, and flipped the phone over on the table.
She turned to the boy and asked, “Andy, do you like the game console I got you?”
she
On the other end, Claudia was startled to hear a woman’s voice. Her heart turned cold.
It was Summer Zach.
Alan’s childhood crush. Wasn’t she overseas working on her PhD? Why was she back? And why was she with her son?
Inside the restaurant-
The boy finally looked up from the game and nodded with a grin. “I love it! Ms. Summer is the best! Thank you, Ms. Summer.”
Summer’s red lips curled slightly. “That’s strange. Doesn’t your family buy you game consoles?”
Moore Corp was a massive conglomerate. With Alan’s wealth, he could easily buy an entire game company. Why not a console?
Andy pouted. “That’s not it. Dad and Grandma and Grandpa always let me play. It’s Mom who’s always nagging. She controls how long I can play, and takes my console away when time’s up… Ms. Summer is way better.”
Summer gently ruffled his hair, her tone soft. “Don’t say that. Your mom’s only worried about your eyes. She means well. If she heard that, it would hurt her feelings.”
“She wouldn’t care.”
Andy kept playing, unconcerned. “Mom’s really nice. I’ve never seen her upset.”
Summer chuckled lightly and glanced at the untouched food on the table.
“I remember Andy once said your mom is a great cook? I love good food too.”
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Andy munched happily and nodded. “Yeah! Mom’s cooking is amazing. Way better than restaurants. Dad and I love it. If you like it too, when you visit our house, I’ll ask Mom to cook for you.”
Smiling, Summer feigned surprise. “Oh? Really?”
“Of course! You’re the Ms. Summer Dad and I both like. Of course you can come over.”
“So Andy really, really likes Ms. Summer?” she teased, lightly poking his cheek.
Andy nodded and rubbed his face against her finger affectionately. “I wish Mom could be like Ms. Summer. She’s always telling me what to do. It’s so annoying.”
Outside, the wind howled, and the snow fell harder.
Claudia stood in the thick snowfall, her hair and lashes dusted with white. Listening to every word through the phone, her eyes turned red.
Of course her cooking was good.
Because both her husband and son loved spicy food, she’d gone out of her way to take lessons from a professional chef just to make better dishes for them. On weekends, when she wasn’t busy, she’d cook for them–her skills rivaled those of any fine dining chef.
But hearing Andy’s words made her chest tighten.
This was the son she’d loved and doted on for seven years.
Seven years of care and devotion, only to be brushed off as annoying and compared to “Ms. Summer.”
She was about to hang up when she suddenly heard a warm voice through the phone–one that was both familiar and foreign. Her frozen hand trembled.
“Sorry, I was tied up with something…”
It was her husband, Alan.
Claudia’s heart ached so badly it went numb. She laughed.
So this was the “work” he said he was busy with?
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On their wedding anniversary, he was having dinner with his childhood crush–and their son?
The call had already ended.
Claudia stood in the snow, laughing for a long time, her eyes red and glistening with tears. She hurled the bouquet of roses to the ground and stomped on it.
The vivid red petals, shaped like hearts, shattered on the snow like splattered blood.
She climbed into the car. The warmth from the heater slowly thawed her frozen limbs, allowing her to feel again.
The past flashed through her mind like scattered clouds.
She knew. Alan had only married her because of that chaotic night, because she got pregnant, and because of pressure from his mother.
He didn’t love her. Maybe he even hated her.
Hated that she’d broken up his perfect love story with his childhood crush. Hated her for being lowly, manipulative, and cunning.
But she’d been naïve. Enchanted by the beauty of the fantasy, she’d tried to reach for it, thinking if she was just kind and quiet enough, things would work out.
And what had she gotten in return?
Seven years of cold, retaliatory silence.
Even their son had grown distant–rejecting and resenting her.
In this house, she was nothing but an invisible tool. No one cared. No one saw her.
Seven years. She finally woke up. She couldn’t warm Alan’s frozen heart.
It was time to end it.
The car’s warm yellow lights shone on her pale, delicate face. Her elegant nose was tinged
pink from the contrast between cold and warmth.
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Flexing her still–numb fingers, she sent a message to a lawyer friend she’d met at Northwind University.
They were meeting tomorrow to talk about divorce and splitting the assets.
