Sebastian stared at me. Then he looked at Cherry. Then his gaze snapped back to me.

I picked up my champagne flute and said, in a voice clear enough for three tables to hear, "Good evening. I'm sure you all know Cherry Parker. Her relationship with my husband has grown so intimate that he transferred our family trust to her a few months ago. Of course, I wasn't informed. After all, what do I know? I'm just his wife."

No one moved.

Then I turned to Cherry and added, "You can keep the necklace. I never liked it. The design is dated, and to be honest, the setting has always looked a bit cheap."

I set down my glass and stood up.

"Sebastian, the divorce papers have been delivered to your father's law firm. Don't call me."

I turned and walked out.

Behind me, the room erupted.

Only I knew the strength it took to maintain that composure.

Back in the hotel suite, Oliver ran in and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Mom, no matter what happens, you won't leave me, will you?"

My heart clenched. I knelt and brushed the hair from his face. "If, one day, Dad and I don't live together anymore, who would you want to live with?"

His eyes immediately welled with tears.

I pulled him into my arms. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I shouldn't have asked. Go wash your hands; I'll order us some food."

I ordered lobster pasta, sliders, french fries, and a salad. Oliver sat at the dining table, staring at his plate.

"Mom, did you already know?"

I remained silent.

"Dad said he had to," Oliver whispered. "He made a promise to Uncle Caleb to protect Cherry and Amelia. He said you're still the most important person in his life. Mom, please don't go."

A child thinks an explanation can fix anything. An adult knows some choices are the answer.

Sebastian didn't come home until nearly midnight. He smelled of whiskey and Cherry's signature J'adore perfume. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a faint lipstick smudge near his collarbone.

"You're still up?" he asked, attempting a smile. "Waiting for me?"

He used to pull me into his arms the moment he came home. This time, he just loosened his cufflinks and disappeared into the bathroom.

A few minutes later, I heard Oliver crying. He was sitting up in bed, his tablet on his lap. Cherry had posted on Instagram.

The photo was of the stage for The Lion King on Broadway. The caption read: "Uncle Sebastian, thank you for the best day ever."

Oliver's Little League championship was two days ago. Sebastian had promised to be there. That morning, he had called to say there was an emergency board meeting.

"I want to talk to Dad," Oliver said, scrubbing at his tears.

I sat on the edge of his bed. "He just got home."

"I know. I heard the car."

So I called Sebastian in. He stood in the doorway, his gaze shifting from Oliver to the tablet. His expression remained impassive, but something flickered deep in his eyes.

"Amelia went to the musical?" Oliver's voice was barely a whisper. "You went to Broadway but missed my final game?"

Sebastian knelt beside the bed. "I didn't forget."

"You said you'd be there."

"I'll take you to Yankee Stadium this weekend."

"You said that last time."

Sebastian placed a hand on Oliver's shoulder. "I'll make it up to you."

Oliver flinched away. "You always say that."

I watched as Sebastian searched for words, but none came. After a moment, Oliver turned away and pulled the blanket over his head.

I looked at Sebastian. "He waited at the stadium entrance for three hours."

Sebastian's jaw tightened.