He Treated Me like A Servant Before Divorce and Now He Regrets It

I looked down at the dish in front of me.

There wasn’t any seafood that I could see, but I knew immediately that it was my allergy acting up. My throat tightened, constricting with every breath.

I coughed hard, over and over, my chest rattling with each desperate gasp.

At first, Adrian ignored me. But as my coughing grew louder, he turned his head, irritation flashing in his eyes.

“For the love of the Moon, Clara,” he snapped. “Can you not sit still for once? Drink some water. Why can’t you do that by yourself?”

I shook my head, unable to form words. I tried to say it was my allergy, that something was wrong, but my throat closed further. My voice simply wouldn’t come.

Adrian frowned, leaning back in his chair. “Unbelievable. Always something with you.”

Marcus leaned back with a scowl, his voice loud enough for nearby tables to hear.

“She’s doing it again. Always putting on a performance. Honestly, Clara, you’ll fake anything for attention.”

My chest heaved, the coughing tearing at my lungs.

Tears blurred my sight. I raised a trembling hand toward my throat, but Adrian rolled his eyes.

“Don’t start this again,” he hissed. “Every time it’s Lyanna’s moment, you find some way to ruin it.”

Lyanna gasped softly, her hand covering her mouth. Her eyes widened with practiced concern.

“Oh dear, she doesn’t look well. Adrian, maybe we should take her to the hospital. Just in case?”

Marcus let out a sharp laugh. “Hospital? Don’t be ridiculous. She’s been pulling stunts like this for years. It’s pathetic.”

Adrian shook his head, his lip curling with disgust.

“Exactly. She’s jealous. That’s all this is. You can’t even let us celebrate Lyanna’s success without making it about yourself, can you, Clara?”

My chest burned with each cough, but his words hurt even worse. I tried to protest, to tell them I wasn’t pretending, but nothing came out.

Only a rasp of air.

Lyanna leaned forward, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “What if she’s really sick, though? We wouldn’t want to regret not helping her.”

Marcus sneered. “If she’s really sick, then it’s her own fault. Stop babying her. She thrives on this kind of pity.”

Lyanna sighed delicately, lowering her lashes as though burdened by compassion. “I only suggested it out of concern.”

My coughing grew harsher, louder, and soon nearby guests began to glance over. Their murmurs carried embarrassment like a sting.

Marcus groaned, shaking his head.

“Listen to her, coughing like she’s about to die. Always so dramatic. Can’t you stop, Clara? You’re humiliating us.”

Stop? How could I stop when my throat was closing, when each breath felt like it was cutting me open from the inside?

Adrian’s voice snapped through my haze of panic.

“Enough! I won’t let you ruin this dinner. You’ve had your fun, Clara.” He raised his hand and gestured sharply to a waiter. “Take her outside. She’s disturbing everyone.”

I froze, disbelief gripping me tighter than my swollen throat.

Take me outside? Abandon me here when I could barely breathe?

My lips parted, but no sound came. I was helpless.

The waiter hurried over and tugged me to my feet.

“This way, ma’am,” he muttered, irritation in his tone. As he dragged me toward the door, I heard Adrian’s voice one last time.

“She always pulls these stunts,” he said coldly. “Don’t waste your sympathy on her.”

The waiter pushed me out into the night air and let go of me like I was filth. His voice was low, but the disdain was clear. “What an actress. Trying to ruin a family dinner… pathetic.”

He left me there, discarded like trash.

I collapsed by the side of the building, my back pressed against the cold wall, coughing and crying at once. My chest burned, my breaths shallow and desperate.

Helplessness wrapped around me tighter than the pain.

I could still hear their laughter faintly through the restaurant’s walls. The clinking of glasses, the cheerful voices, the celebration that went on as if nothing had happened.

They looked more like a family with her than they ever did with me, even though I was the real family.

A bitter, broken laugh slipped out between coughs. My tears blurred the glow of the streetlights above me. As my lungs screamed for air, I could only feel regret.

Regret that I wasn’t enough. Regret that I tried so hard, only to be cast aside like nothing.

Perhaps this was the break I had been waiting for. The end to the suffering, the silence to all the noise. If death was what awaited me in this dark corner, then maybe…

At last, I could rest.