Blurb：
Twenty-five years ago, I chose the money over my ex-husband's daughter, Claire Sterling. Now, my son Leo is bringing home his new girlfriend—and it's her. She doesn't recognize me, but when a shellfish allergy from her childhood nearly triggers at dinner, my maternal instincts shatter the silence. Can a past abandoned be redeemed? A gripping tale of motherhood, regret, and second chances. Featuring Leo, Claire Sterling, and a secret that threatens to unravel two families.Content：
The day I left my ex-husband, he made me choose: the money or his daughter.I took the money.
She was seven. She didn't cry or throw a tantrum. She just watched me go, her expression unreadable.
I moved on. I remarried, had a son, and my life settled into the quiet rhythm of ordinary.
Twenty-five years later, my son told me he was bringing his new girlfriend home to meet me.
1
My son, Leo, had been single for all twenty-five years of his life, but he'd inherited my romantic heart. He'd just graduated, and to celebrate landing his first real job, he'd had a little too much to drink. He'd also, apparently, ended up in someone's bed.
"Mom, what do I do?" he'd groaned over the phone a few days later. "I just found out she's my boss."
I was speechless. Honestly, some things are better kept between you and your own crippling sense of embarrassment, not shared with your mother.
"I don't care," he declared before I could respond, a new fire in his voice. "I don't care who she is. I'm going to ask her out."
I didn't offer a single word of encouragement, but his hope ignited all on its own.
Two days later, he shuffled home, the picture of defeat.
"She told me to leave her alone, Mom."
"Well," I said, trying to be gentle, "you can be… a lot."
He made a frustrated sound. "She asked what it would take for me to stop bothering her."
"And what did you say?"
"I told her if she'd just come home and meet you once, I'd never bother her again."
I blinked. And blinked again. Wow. Just… wow. Was this some new form of emotional blackmail? The "my-mom-wants-to-meet-you" gambit?
"I know it's a lost cause," he mumbled, his voice small and pathetic. "But… I just wanted you to meet the person I've fallen for."
His sincerity was a little heartbreaking. My resolve softened.
And so, here I was, having spent the entire day cooking and cleaning, bracing myself for the arrival of this VIP. When the doorbell rang, I took a deep breath, pasted on my most welcoming smile, and opened the door.
A woman stood behind Leo, dressed in a sharply tailored black coat. She carried an aura so potent it seemed to chill the air around her.
My mind went blank. A buzzing static filled my ears.
My first instinct was primal: hide. Find a crack in the floor and disappear into it.
But the woman—Claire Sterling—merely glanced at me, her face a placid mask. There wasn't a flicker of recognition.
I didn't know if I should feel relief or a fresh wave of grief.
Of course, I told myself. She was only seven when I left. It's been twenty-five years. She's forgotten you.
I forced the storm of emotion down and managed a smile, ushering her inside. "Claire, please, come in. It's cold out there, isn't it?"
Leo, meanwhile, was a machine gun of nervous chatter, trying to unload his entire life story over the course of one dinner.
"Look, Claire, this is a picture of me when I was a kid. Awkward, right?"
"You have to try this, Claire. It's my mom's specialty. She…"
Through it all, Claire remained poised and elegant, eating her food with a quiet focus, offering only the occasional, polite nod in response to Leo's monologue.
Then, she reached for one of the garlic butter prawns, glistening under the dining room light.
My blood ran cold.
"Don't!"
The word tore out of me. I shot up from my chair, my body moving on pure instinct. Just as the shrimp was about to reach her lips, I lunged across the table and knocked it from her chopsticks.
The motion was so violent that a spray of buttery sauce splattered across the back of her hand.
She has a severe shellfish allergy. When she was little, a single, thumb-sized shrimp had sent her into anaphylactic shock.
Leo stared at me, dumbfounded. "Mom? What the hell was that?"
My mind raced, my voice trembling as I scrambled for an excuse. "This… this batch. I think this batch went bad. Don't eat it." I turned to Leo. "There's soup simmering in the kitchen. Could you get a bowl for Claire?"
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