Chapter Seven

FLORA’S POV

   I was downright baffled when someone from Le Jardin—one of the most expensive restaurants in Rockshire showed up at the Kensington estate with a food delivery. Apparently, it was my husband’s order. Now, I had never had the pleasure of tasting their gourmet meals, though I had always been curious. Maybe I even daydreamed about it.

I almost texted Jayden to ask why the servants were suddenly arranging and decorating the dining table like we were hosting royalty. And why he felt the need to drop a small fortune on restaurant food when we had a fully staffed kitchen. But then I remembered—he stopped replying to my texts ages ago. Honestly, why bother?

For all I knew, it could’ve been another Kensington family dinner, where everyone gets together to blatantly judge the rest of Rockshire. Frankly, I wasn’t up for it tonight. I was already preparing to fake an illness, maybe something dramatic enough to keep me locked away in the bedroom while they critiqued the world one forkful at a time.

But it was barely evening when Jayden stood at the entrance of our living room, clutching a bouquet of flowers in one hand, a gift bag in the other, and a grin that deserved to be in a toothpaste commercial. My confusion was immediate. What on earth was this about? The man didn’t usually come home this early, let alone with flowers.

“How was your day, honey?” he asked, strolling in and kissing me lightly on the forehead. “I brought you these.” He held out the bouquet and the gift bag, all charm and smiles.

I took them, still completely bewildered, feeling like I had missed some major memo. I peeked inside the gift bag and pulled out a box. Opening it, I found a diamond-encrusted necklace glimmering back at me. A diamond necklace? Jayden had never given me anything this extravagant before. Everything I owned came from the monthly allowance his mother deposited into my account, which was barely enough to match the Kensington lifestyle, but I managed. Besides, they were paying for my sister’s college tuition and my mother’s medical bills, so I didn’t complain. Plus, I made most of my own clothes—nothing spectacular, just simple designs with whatever fabric I could afford.

“This is... nice,” I said, trying to muster some enthusiasm but sounding more like someone who had just received socks for Christmas.

“Don’t you want to try it on, honey?” he asked, stepping closer, his hand outstretched for the necklace.

Reluctantly, I handed it over, and he moved behind me, carefully fastening the clasp. His fingers brushed against my neck, a gesture that used to give me goosebumps but now just made my skin crawl.

“It looks perfect on you,” he said, coming back around to admire his work.

“Thanks,” I muttered, doing my best to sound appreciative.

“We’re having dinner tonight—”

“Oh, about that." I scrambled for my pre-planned excuse. "I’m sorry, I won’t be able to make it. I’m feeling a little under the weather,” I said, adding a small sigh for dramatic effect. “I’ve got this headache, and I don’t want to intrude on your family time.”

Jayden raised an eyebrow. “Babe, it’s just the two of us.”

I blinked, completely thrown off. Just the two of us? When was the last time that had happened? Usually, his mother was there, looming over us like a grumpy headmistress, making sure I didn’t eat anything that might inch me closer to her disapproval zone of caloric intake.

Before I could protest further, Jayden gently took my hand and led me toward the dining table. I felt a small pang of anxiety. What was this all about? I couldn’t help but feel like I was being set up for some elaborate prank.

A few minutes later, we were seated across from each other, with the servants dishing out the extravagant meal from Le Jardin. Jayden kept staring at me with an intensity that made me squirm in my seat. I could feel his eyes on me, and it wasn’t flattering—it was unsettling. Like he was waiting for me to say something, do something, be something that I wasn’t sure I could be.

Once the servants finished dishing out the food, Jayden eagerly urged me to start eating. I picked up my fork and began to eat slowly, more out of politeness than hunger. Jayden mirrored my actions, clearly excited about whatever fancy dish he had ordered.

“This is my favorite cuisine, and I just know you’ll love it,” he said, smiling confidently.

But something felt off. My throat started to itch, and my eyes watered as if I were sitting in a field of ragweed. Then, my nose began to run, and panic gripped me. I blinked rapidly, trying to fight back the sneeze that was now threatening to explode.

Jayden noticed my discomfort and frowned. “Are you alright?”

“No!” I blurted out, feeling like my airway was slowly closing off. “Is there shrimp in this?”

Jayden looked between me and the dish in front of us, confused. “Well, yeah, of course. Don’t you like shrimp?”

“Damn it, Jay. I’m allergic to shrimp!” I stood up abruptly but only managed to sneeze—twice, back-to-back, like my body was putting on a show. I waved frantically at one of the servants. “Get my Claritin, please!” The poor woman bolted off as if her life depended on it.

Honestly, it was mind-boggling how even the servants knew I couldn’t tolerate shrimp, yet my husband of three years was clueless. Typical. Jayden’s face flushed with embarrassment and a hint of defeat as he sank back into his chair. I sighed, relieved that my reaction was mild this time—no need for a full-blown ER visit. When the servant returned with my medicine, Jayden reached for it like he was suddenly the caring husband.

“No, it’s fine,” I muttered, taking it from the servant myself.

Jayden, visibly rattled, barked, “What are you all staring at? Clear the table!” The servants scrambled to obey, not wanting to get caught in his sudden storm of frustration.

Just as I popped the pill, the front door swung open with a bang, and in walked two men carrying ridiculously expensive-looking suitcases. Following closely behind them, with an air of smug entitlement, was Melissa. Of course. Because what would a perfectly disastrous dinner be without her?

Is she here for a vacation, or has she decided to officially move in? I thought dryly. At this point, nothing would surprise me.

“Melissa, what are you doing here?” Jayden demanded, stopping the men in their tracks.

“Moving in, obviously,” Melissa said with casual nonchalance, like she was announcing the weather.

“Why?” Jayden’s voice grew taut as he walked toward her, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “You can’t move into my home—our home,” he corrected, throwing me a quick glance as if that made it better. His words practically hissed through gritted teeth.

“Well, not when I’m carrying your child,” she replied sweetly, flashing a smug smile and then glancing at me as though she had just dropped a winning hand in a game of poker.

I couldn’t help but chuckle, watching the blood drain from Jayden’s face like someone had pulled the plug. His eyes went wide with shock, and Melissa, ever the drama queen, pulled out a test result from her purse and handed it to him. Tears prickled at the back of my eyes, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the absurdity of the situation or the lingering allergy. Maybe both.

This was the same woman he had brushed off, telling me their make-out session was “a mistake.” Now she was standing here, pregnant, claiming my husband as hers. What a circus. I wasn’t even sure why I felt the sting of tears. Was I actually hurt by this, or was my body just reacting to the sheer ridiculousness of it all?

Jayden stammered, clutching the paper like it was some foreign object. “This... this can’t be... How did this happen?” He turned to me, then back to Melissa, completely lost for words.

I couldn’t bear to listen to whatever pathetic excuses were about to spill from his mouth. I had no interest in watching their little drama unfold. Without a word, I turned and walked toward the stairs. I had already packed my bags earlier; I was planning to leave first thing in the morning anyway. The only reason I hadn’t walked out already was because it was late, and I wasn’t ready to face my mother’s inevitable lecture.

I had barely made it to the first step of the stairs when Lisette walked in, her sharp eyes taking in the chaos of the room. Of course, she had impeccable timing.

“What’s going on here?” she demanded, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. “And why are you walking away when I’m speaking to you?”

I stopped, turning slowly to face her. Typical Lisette. She thrived on these little power plays, always tossing her weight around the house as if she owned everyone in it. And for the longest time, I let her—kept my head down, stayed quiet, played the good wife. But not today. No, today I was done playing the doormat. I couldn't even contain the anger brewing inside me.

“Why don’t you ask your son?” I replied, my tone sharper than they had ever heard from me before. The look of surprise that flickered across both their faces was almost worth it. “I don’t want to be a part of this mess anymore. After all, I’m not really family, am I?”

Jayden’s eyes widened. “Flora, please. Don’t escalate things.”

Oh, now he’s worried about escalation. Before I could retort, Lisette pounced, her voice dripping with disbelief. “What has gotten into you? What’s giving you the nerve to talk back to me like this?” She turned to Jayden, her tone demanding. “And what exactly shouldn’t she escalate?”

Jayden looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “Mom, it’s nothing—”

I cut him off, unable to hold back the frustration bubbling up inside me. “Nothing? Nothing?” I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “Getting your ‘business partner’ pregnant is nothing?”

The room froze. Lisette’s head whipped from me to Jayden, then to Melissa, who was standing there, twirling her hair around her finger like we were all just having a casual chat about the weather.

“What have you done, Jayden?” Lisette’s voice trembled with a mix of anger and disbelief.

Jayden’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “It was... it was a mistake. This—”

“A mistake,” I muttered, shaking my head. “So much for keeping the Kensington name squeaky clean. What a joke.” I barely finished the sentence before Lisette’s fiery gaze zeroed in on me.

“What did you just say?” she barked.

“She didn’t say anything, Mom,” Jayden jumped in, trying to put out the flames before they turned into a full-blown wildfire.

But I wasn’t backing down. Not anymore.

“How dare you stand there and judge my son for a simple mistake? You think you’re any better?” Lisette’s voice rose, her usual air of superiority in full force. “Do you even realize the stress it takes to keep you, and your family clothed, fed, and housed? Who do you think pays for everything?”

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore,” I snapped, enjoying the way her eyes widened with shock. “Because I’m divorcing him.”

Lisette’s face fell into stunned silence. Jayden looked like someone had just slapped him across the face. “Flora, please,” he said, his voice now panicked, as if he could still control the situation.

“What?” Lisette managed to sputter, her voice a little weaker now, the authority draining out of her.

“You heard me,” I said, meeting her gaze with a level stare. “I’m divorcing your ‘golden boy,’ so you don’t have to feed any more extra mouths.”

Without waiting for another response, I turned on my heel and marched up the stairs, leaving them to stew in their stupidity and denial. They could have their perfect little Kensington drama. I was done playing a part in it.