“Allen, Khalil’s allergic reaction got worse. He’s really uncomfortable. Melissa is overseas on bed rest, so as her aunt, I have to help take care of him. Don’t be upset.”
I remembered the picture Khalil had sent earlier.
He was lounging comfortably, eating fruit that Adriana had cut herself—his skin was glowing, without a trace of discomfort.
“I understand,” I said calmly. “The patient comes first. Take good care of him.”
She paused, then softened her voice.
“Allen, I didn’t mean to be harsh with you today. I know you’re grieving the baby.”
“But Khalil is the father of the Lawson family’s future heir. You and I... we can’t carry on the family line anymore. If anything happens to him, and Melissa gets upset, I’m afraid my parents wouldn’t be able to bear it.”
I almost laughed.
Why bother making so many excuses?
“Just stay home, okay? Tomorrow is your birthday. I booked the best hotel and prepared a big surprise. I’ll come pick you up first thing in the morning.”
But morning came and went.
And still—she didn’t return.
I placed the signed divorce papers neatly on the table.
Then I scheduled a voice recording to send to her automatically.
Recipient: Adriana.