I was mortified, “She donated her kidney four years ago to save you, you've done everything to please her and now you would sacrifice your own son too?!”
Jason reached for me. “I’m sorry, darling,” he murmured.
I pulled away as I grabbed my coat. “I’m going out. I need air.”
“Amber!” he called, but I ignored him and went down the stairs.
Chloe sat on the couch, a smug smile planted on her face. She looked up as I passed.
“Where are you rushing off to?” she asked, bright as a bell.
I pushed past. She stepped in front of me, blocking the door.
“Answer me,” she said. Then she laughed, cruel. “You’re going to lose everything. Soon your husband will be mine!”
“Get out of my way, Chloe.”
She cocked her head. “Or what? What are you going to do, Amber? You can’t do anything. You couldn’t even save your own son.”
My hands moved without thinking. I slapped her, hard. I grabbed her hair and shoved. She cried out sharp and loud.
Jason came flying down the stairs, eyes wide. “What did you do?” he demanded.
“What I should have done days ago!” I spat, and I ran.
My phone filled with missed calls and angry voicemails as I drove away.
“Come back and apologize to Chloe!” one voice shouted.
“How dare you hurt her, I'll kill you!” another screamed.
“Don’t make me make you regret this!” the next one came in.
“I’ve lost my patience, Amber, I've tried to be nice but you've pushed me. Whatever happens is on you.”
The last one sounded eerily calm and for a moment I was tempted to pick up the call but I ignored it and went straight to the lawyer.
“Mrs. Morales,” he said with the old courtesy. “Always a pleasure.”
“Start talking. What did you mean on the phone?” I demanded.
He slid a paper across the desk. My name stared back at me with my signature on a clause I never saw before.
“This says if you divorce Jason, he gets the company,” he said. “You signed it.”
“I didn’t sign that,” I said, panic rising.
“You did,” he replied. “You asked me to do what Jason wanted when you married. You agreed.”
A flash of memory hit me as I recalled the wedding night, a paper he’d asked me to sign claiming it was “just work.” I had trusted him then. I had signed without reading it.
“But why would he do this? He doesn't want us to get divorced or what? It doesn't make sense,” I frowned.