Chapter 2: The Morning of a Surprise
Ten hours earlier, Clara had woken up before the sky was fully bright.
The Harrison mansion was still covered in a thin winter mist. Outside the window, perfectly trimmed trees stood still in the wind. Everything in this house was luxurious, cold, and flawless — from the paintings on the walls to every crystal glass in the cabinet.
Only Clara always felt like she did not belong there.
She climbed out of bed quietly so she would not wake Ethan. He had worked very late the night before, and company documents were still open on his desk. Before falling asleep, he had placed his hand on her belly and smiled.
“Tomorrow, Dad will come home early to you both.”
Clara had smiled.
She did not tell him she was preparing a small birthday party.
Not a luxurious party. No famous guests. No orchestra. No family media attention like Margaret always preferred. Just a cake she made herself, a few dishes Ethan liked, balloons, roses, and a small card written in her handwriting:
“Happy birthday to the most wonderful father, even though your child has not been born yet.”
Clara wanted to turn that day into a warm memory.
Because she knew Ethan had been tired for too long.
He was the only son of the Harrison family. Since childhood, he had lived under his mother’s perfect expectations. He had to attend the best schools, behave perfectly, take over the family company, and marry a woman who was “worthy” of him.
But in the end, he chose Clara.
A normal woman who used to design flowers for events. Her family was not wealthy. Her parents had passed away early, and she only had an aunt in the suburbs. She met Ethan at a charity event while she was fixing a flower arrangement on stage. Ethan was the only person in the entire hall who asked whether she had eaten.
Their love began simply.
But to Margaret, it was an insult.
From the first day Clara stepped into the Harrison home, Margaret looked at her like a stain on an expensive silk cloth.
“You may make Ethan happy for a few months,” Margaret once said when Ethan was not home. “But being his wife requires more than a gentle face and a few tears.”
Clara endured it.
She learned how to use the correct cutlery at formal dinners. She learned how to choose clothes that would not anger Margaret. She learned to stay silent when Margaret introduced her to others as “the girl Ethan pitied for a while.”
Ethan knew his mother did not like Clara, but he did not know how far Margaret had gone.
Because Clara always hid it.
She did not want Ethan to be torn between his mother and his wife. She told herself that one day, Margaret would understand she truly loved Ethan. One day, when the baby was born, things would be different.
That morning, Clara believed that day might begin.
She and Lily entered the kitchen at six. Lily was the youngest maid in the house, and also the only one who dared to secretly ask Clara if she was tired whenever Margaret made her stand too long at gatherings.
“Madam, maybe I should do the frosting?” Lily asked, worried as she watched Clara rub her lower back.
Clara smiled.
“It’s okay. I want to write the words on the cake myself.”
“Sir will be so happy when he sees it.”
“He always acts calm, but he gets emotional very easily,” Clara said softly. “Especially when it has something to do with the baby.”
She placed a hand on her stomach.
The baby moved slightly, as if answering her.
Clara laughed.
“You want to wish Dad a happy birthday too, don’t you?”
All morning, the cold house became warmer. Lily hung balloons in the living room. An older maid named Anna arranged roses on the table. Clara personally laid out the white tablecloth, placed the porcelain plates, and lit Ethan’s favorite vanilla-scented candles.
By noon, the cake was finished.
It was not as perfect as a bakery cake, but it was beautiful. Soft white frosting, small pale-blue handmade flowers, and in the center, the words Clara had carefully written for ten minutes:
Happy Birthday, Dad.
Looking at those words, Clara’s eyes turned red.
Lily stood beside her, touched.
“Madam, it’s beautiful.”
Clara smiled gently.
“I hope he likes it.”
“He will. He definitely will.”
But that joy did not last long.
A black car stopped in front of the mansion gate at two in the afternoon.
Margaret came home earlier than expected.
The moment she entered the living room, she stopped. Her sharp eyes swept over the balloons, the roses, the candles, then stopped on the cake in the center of the table.
The air froze.
“What is this?” she asked.
Clara was adjusting the card carefully. She turned around, surprised.
“Mother, you’re home. Today is Ethan’s birthday, so I wanted to prepare a small dinner for him.”
Margaret looked Clara up and down.
“You prepared this?”
“Yes.”
“In my house?”
Clara paused.
“I thought… this is Ethan’s home too. And I am his wife, so…”
“You are his wife,” Margaret interrupted. “But you have never belonged in this house.”
Lily and Anna looked at each other nervously.
Clara took a deep breath.
“Today is supposed to be a happy day. If you do not like the decorations, I can change them.”
“Do you think the problem is the balloons?”
Margaret walked slowly into the room.
She stopped in front of the cake and lowered her eyes to read the words.
Happy Birthday, Dad.
Her face darkened immediately.
“Dad?” she repeated mockingly. “Are you using the baby in your womb to remind Ethan that he has to be responsible for you?”
Clara turned pale.
“No, I did not mean that. I only wanted…”
“You wanted to make him emotional? You wanted him to think you are a gentle, pitiful wife? You are clever, Clara. You know exactly what my son’s weakness is.”
Clara clenched her hands.
“You can hate me, but please do not speak like that about my love for Ethan or our child.”
“Our child?” Margaret laughed coldly. “Do you truly think that just because you are pregnant, you can keep this position forever?”
Lily hurried forward.
“Madam, Madam Clara worked on this all day. Maybe…”
“Shut your mouth.”
Lily lowered her head and shook.
Clara stepped closer to the cake.
“Mother, if you do not want to see it, I will put it away. Tonight, I will celebrate with Ethan in our private room.”
Just as Clara reached out to lift the cake, Margaret suddenly swept her hand across it.
The cake fell.
The sound of breaking porcelain rang sharply through the room.
White frosting splattered across the marble. Sugar flowers scattered. Ribbons tore. A piece of cake rolled near Clara’s feet.
Clara stood frozen.
For a few seconds, she could not hear anything.
She only saw the cake she had spent all morning making lying destroyed on the floor.
Margaret looked down and said coldly:
“Clean it up.”
Clara looked up.
“Mother…”
“I said clean it up. Before Ethan comes home. I do not want him to see this cheap little act.”
Anna could not bear it and stepped forward.
“Madam, let us clean it.”
Margaret glanced at her.
“No. Let her clean it. She made this mess. She can clean it herself.”
Clara placed a hand on her stomach.
“I am pregnant. I cannot kneel for too long…”
“Then next time, do not put on a show.”
The words cut like a knife.
Clara looked around. No one dared to help her. Not because they did not feel sorry for her, but because in this house, Margaret’s word was law.
She bent down.
Her knees touched the cold marble.
Lily burst into tears, but Anna pulled her back. If they resisted, they would lose their jobs immediately.
Clara used a cloth to gather the pieces of cake. Tears fell onto the melting frosting. She told herself she only needed to clean quickly so Ethan would not see it. As long as she stayed silent, his birthday would not be ruined.
May you like
But she did not know Ethan had canceled his last meeting of the day.
He was already on his way home, holding flowers, full of expectation.
