His name was Daniel. For eight years, whenever he wanted me quiet, he called me fragile. My mother, Vivian, called me ungrateful whenever I refused to praise her beauty, her wealth, or the lies she told so easily. Babyshower planning
At family dinners, the two of them had always circled each other like polished blades. Familycounseling services
After my father died, they stopped pretending.
Dad had been a billionaire, but never the loud kind. He wore old watches, tipped waitresses generously, and taught me how to read contracts before I learned to drive.
Vivian hated that.
Daniel hated it even more.
At Dad’s funeral, Daniel held my hand while staring at my mother’s diamond bracelet. Babyshower planning
Two days later, he asked me for a divorce.
“You’re too emotional, Claire,” he said, pushing the papers across our kitchen table. “Your mother understands ambition. You never did.”
