Chapter 2

When we got home from school, I sat on the couch with a cold expression. I didn’t cook dinner, didn’t clean, didn’t wash a single piece of clothing.

Carter, as usual, didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. He expected everything to continue like normal.

“Mom, I’m hungry! Hurry up and make dinner!” he demanded.

I shot him a look and said, “Don’t call me Mom. I’m not your mom.”

Carter’s face flushed with anger. I had promised him burgers and fried chicken after school, but after his performance at the school gate, those plans were gone.

Earlier, I’d seen Carter chatting up Lily, laughing his head off like nothing else mattered. Next to Lily was her mom, Sophia Whitman, looking effortlessly stylish.

I walked over, intending to greet her, but the second Carter saw me, his face dropped. He jumped right in front of me and cut me off, loudly proclaiming, “This is our nanny. You don’t need to talk to her!”

He turned and yelled at me again, “You look so embarrassing. Don’t come to school looking like that!”

It was pickup time, and other parents were passing by, giving me curious looks. Sophia Whitman’s face was full of surprise as she glanced at me with concern, slightly raising her brows.

I looked down at my faded clothes. Between taking care of the house and family, I hadn’t had time to dress up. My ungrateful little brat had the nerve to be ashamed of me?

But I wasn’t going to take it lying down. I slapped some sense into him, hard. Carter’s face turned beet red.

I mumbled an apology to Sophia and walked away without looking back. Carter, in a panic, came running after me, wailing, knowing I was furious. He probably thought I wasn’t going to take him for fried chicken anymore.

As if! I wasn’t going to give him anything. He could have looked like fried chicken for all I cared.

Once we got home, Carter locked himself in his room and gave me a dirty look. I looked around at the dirty laundry and messy living room and sank deep into thought.

It’s been seven years since I became a full-time mom. I gave up my job for Carter. Every little thing—meals, laundry, school, health—was all on me.

But today, the way he acted made me realize all my efforts were for nothing. Why had I sacrificed so much?

When I refused to make him dinner, Carter lost it completely. He threw himself on the floor and started screaming.

“I wasn’t wrong! You don’t even have a job. What’s the difference between you and a nanny? I’m telling Dad!”

To my shock, Nathan frowned when he heard the story, and his eyes were full of disappointment when he looked at me.

“Why are you making a big deal over what a kid says? You promised him fried chicken today. No wonder Carter’s upset!”