He Didn’t Know She Was The Heiress Chapter 01
Just before Thanksgiving break, my best friend told me her daughter’s father was finally ready to introduce Lily to his family.
I was thrilled for her. After all those years of raising a little girl alone, Mia was finally going to have someone by her side.
When I shared the news with my husband, he barely looked up from his lunch.
“I know. Lily’s my daughter. I’m taking her home for Thanksgiving so everyone can meet her.”
My fork slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor. I stared at him.
He sighed. “Mia didn’t want to tell you. She was afraid of hurting you. But the kids at school tease Lily for not having a dad. I can’t let her go through that anymore.”
He looked at me as though I ought to understand.
“I’m going to marry Mia. She and Lily deserve a real family.”
“What about me and Aiden?” My voice shook. “Our son can lose his father? It’s fine if he gets teased?”
Before my husband could answer, Aiden put another piece of pot roast on his father’s plate and turned to me.
“Dad’s only getting rid of you. He still wants me. Why would anyone tease me?”
Then my son smiled.
“Besides, Aunt Mia is pretty and nice. I’ve wanted her to be my mom for ages.”
…
I went cold. Aiden looked so happy, as though we were discussing a present he’d been promised.
I looked from him to my husband, Julian Hayes. “So even Aiden knew.”
Julian avoided my eyes. “You heard him. He likes Mia better, so you don’t need to worry about him.”
“Besides, I’m only divorcing you. I’m not asking you to leave. The five of us can live here together. You just won’t be my wife anymore. Everything else stays the same.”
He pointed his fork at the pot roast and gave me a small smile. “You are a good cook.”
He actually thought he was doing me a favor.
“You’ve been sleeping with my best friend, and you expect me to stay here and cook for you?”
Julian frowned. “What else are you going to do? You’ve been a stay-at-home mom for years. What do you know besides housework? At your age, you couldn’t even get hired at a coffee shop.”
He leaned back. “Do you really think you can leave me? And what about Aiden? You love him so much. Could you walk away from him?”
Aiden’s smile vanished. “Dad, you won’t let her take me, right? I don’t want to go with Mom.”
I could barely breathe. The child I’d raised was watching me as if I were a stranger who might drag him away.
I had almost bled to death giving birth to him. He’d needed constant care as a baby, and I’d given up my career to be the one who provided it. I had spent years making sure he was safe, comfortable, loved.
Now he was afraid I might make him leave his father’s money behind.
Julian stroked Aiden’s hair. “Don’t worry. Even if your mom wanted to take you, she couldn’t afford to.”
He glanced at me, certain of every word. “Besides, she’d never leave me. She gave up her parents to marry me. She has no one else.”
I remembered the day my parents had told me to leave if I insisted on marrying him. When Julian found out, he held me so tightly I’d believed I would never need anyone else.
“Chloe, I won’t let you down,” he’d promised. “I’ll prove to your parents that you made the right choice.”
Ten years later, he was using that same choice to tell me I had nowhere to go.
Aiden let out a relieved breath. “Then when can you marry Aunt Mia? I want her and Lily to move in.”
Julian looked at me. “That depends on when your mother agrees to the divorce.”
Aiden hurried around the table and tugged at my arm. “Mom, hurry up and divorce Dad. I want Lily to move in today. Aunt Mia said she’d take me out for a peanut butter milkshake once she lives here.”
“You can’t have that,” I said at once. “You’re allergic to peanuts.”
He flung my hand away. “Not anymore! Aunt Mia says I’ve grown out of it. You just keep using it as an excuse to stay home and do nothing instead of getting a job.”
“Aunt Mia says there’s nothing wrong with me. She says I’m healthier than most kids.”
All those years of watching what he ate, all the care I’d taken—he thought they were excuses to be lazy.
Julian chuckled. “Go easy on your mother, Aiden.”
Then he gave me a patient smile that made my stomach turn. “I know you don’t want to work. You can stay home, just like before. I can afford to support you.”
I looked at their matching faces. My husband and my son had already decided where I belonged: in their kitchen, grateful to be allowed to stay.
The anger drained out of me. I no longer wanted to make either of them understand.
“Fine,” I said. “Then let’s get the divorce started this afternoon.”