After My Husband’s Childhood Sweetheart Ran Over My Mom, I Went on a Rampage

My teasing made him pause. After speaking, I stopped looking at them and went back to my room.

***

Early the next morning, Carl opened the door again, his tone calm but still commanding, as if last night’s conflict never happened.

“Come downstairs and eat. Jocelyn is hurt, but she got up early to make seafood porridge for you to apologize and help you recover.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said coldly, turning my back to him.

“You have to go, even if you’re not hungry!” His tone hardened. “Jocelyn was kind to you. Are you going to embarrass her? Do you think our Wagner Family can’t handle this?”

He only cared about Jocelyn’s feelings and the family’s appearance. In the end, he forced me to go to the dining room.

I finally went downstairs. In the dining room, Jocelyn was already sitting at the head of the table—my usual seat.

Seeing me, Jocelyn smiled softly. “Camelia, you’re here? I heard you haven’t been eating much, so I made some fresh seafood porridge. Would you like to try it?”

The bowl of porridge was set before me, smelling strongly of shrimp and crab. Carl sat in the main seat and gestured to me. “Jocelyn worked all morning. Don’t waste her effort.”

I looked at the porridge but didn’t touch it. I’m severely allergic to seafood, something I told him early in our relationship.

Once, I accidentally ate a snack with shrimp powder and got a full-body rash. He took me to the hospital that night and stayed with me all night.

I clearly remembered how anxious he looked back then. Now, just a few years later, he seemed to have forgotten, or his focus had simply moved away from me.

“What?” Carl frowned when I didn’t move. “Jocelyn cooked it herself and you won’t even show her this little respect?”

Jocelyn immediately looked down, her voice upset. “Carl, don’t force Camelia. Maybe I didn’t cook well and she doesn’t like it…”

Carl’s face darkened, his eyes showing clear displeasure. “Camelia, don’t be so stubborn!”

Stubborn? Seeing his impatient face, my heart turned cold. I looked up at him, calm and emotionless. “I’ll drink it, but let me go see my dad at the hospital today.”

Carl instinctively wanted to refuse, frowning. Jocelyn had told him before that my dad needed complete rest and shouldn’t be visited.

But when my stubborn, empty gaze met his, he swallowed and finally said stiffly, “Okay, I’ll arrange it.”

After getting the promise, I didn’t hesitate. I picked up the porridge and forced myself to eat it.

Soon, my skin started itching and red rashes appeared. If Carl cared at all, he would have noticed.

But he was only focused on feeding Jocelyn. At that moment, the gap between love and indifference felt so cruel.

Back in the guest room, the allergy hit hard. Red rashes spread, itching badly and I struggled to breathe.

I knew I had to take medicine immediately, or it could get serious. I forced myself up to find my allergy medicine in the master bedroom.

I stumbled to the master bedroom and opened the door, only to see Jocelyn by the window holding the medicine.