I shot back, dead serious, “I’m not making a scene. I’ve got a bad case of gastritis.”
The same gastritis I got from all those business drinks I had to down for him.
However, Simon was not having any of my explanations. He grabbed a slice of cake and said, “Since you can’t do spicy, sweet should be okay, right?”
Before I could even get a word in, Sophia chimed in, fanning the flames.
“I just wanted to share a slice of birthday happiness with you, Yoana. Didn’t mean to tick you off. They say the Drakes have had your back for fifteen years. You could at least play nice for their sake, don’t put Simon on the spot.”
I almost laughed. Clearly, Simon was used to looking down on me, and he let his cronies use guilt trips to keep me in line.
Sure, I had been under their roof for 15 years, but any debt I owed Simon was settled long ago.
I was about to turn down the cake when a spoonful was rudely shoved into my mouth.
Simon tossed the rest of his cake into the trash with a scoff. “It’s just dinner. No need to be so dramatic!”
Reluctantly, I swallowed the bite, but instantly knew something was off.
Mango sauce. I was allergic to mangoes!
It hit me like a ton of bricks. My face flared up, and I struggled to catch my breath.
Clutching my chest, I crouched down, heaving for air.
Simon, seeing me like that, started to freak out. “Yoana, what’s…”
He moved to help me, but then Sophia’s voice cut through, feigning distress. “Simon, help… Help me! I got all choked up because Yoana was upset.”
Simon’s worry for me vanished in an instant, replaced by a look of tender concern for Sophia.
He scooped up Sophia in a rush, his eyes glaring at me, filled with loathing.
“Yoana! This is all your fault, always causing a scene! Now Sophia’s choking because of you. What if something serious happens to her? Can you live with that?!”
His voice was sharp with anger as he stormed out with Sophia in his arms. Just before they left, I caught Sophia’s smug look.
She might as well have shouted, “See, when it’s down to me or you, he’ll always pick me!”
The room fell silent, leaving me alone with a pain so deep I could barely catch my breath. Frantic, I grabbed my phone and called for an ambulance.
When I came to, Simon was there, sitting by my hospital bed.
“Yoana…” he began, gripping my hand, but a nurse bustled in, cutting him off.
Once she left, he leaned in, worry etched on his face. “Is our kid okay?”
