His Secret lover 1

Chapter 1 

My husband, who used to hate plush toys, suddenly brought home an oversized plush bear–and started sleeping with it 

every night. 

And just like that, he started ignoring me altogether. 

I couldn’t take it anymore. So, at our son’s first birthday party, I told him I wanted a divorce. 

The entire room froze. 

Without a word, Brandon grabbed a glass of wine and splashed it right in my face. “You’re jealous of a stuffed bear? 

Seriously? What’s wrong with you?” 

I calmly wiped my face and said coldly, “Didn’t you swear you’d spend your life with that bear? Go ahead. I won’t stand in 

your way.” 

“Claire Whitmore!” 

“Our son just turned one, and you’re seriously divorcing me over this? Are you completely out of your mind?” 

Brandon Lancaster’s fists clenched, eyes wide with disbelief. 

“Sign the settlement. Be at the County Clerk’s Office at 9 am, sharp.” 

I couldn’t be bothered to argue. I threw the divorce settlement at him and turned to leave. 

The guests were stunned into silence. None of them could understand how the perfect couple they all admired had fallen 

apart so suddenly. 

Brandon’s eyes flickered with panic, and his parents–Thomas and Evelyn Lancaster–looked just as shocked, their 

expressions turning grim. 

They never expected I’d be this resolute. 

Before I could step away, his assistant, Madison Reed, grabbed my arm and yanked me back. 

“Come on, Claire, don’t be ridiculous. What’s so wrong with a man liking plush toys? Apologize to Brandon already.” 

“Don’t forget how much he’s done for you. You once mentioned liking cherry cobbler from Valewood, and he drove there in 

the middle of the night to get it.” 

“When you were about to give birth, he drove through a storm and got into a car accident just to be there. He walked into that hospital, bleeding and drenched.” 

“He started sleeping in a separate room so you and the baby could rest. Why can’t you see how hard he’s tried?” 

Other guests began chiming in too. 

“She’s right. Why are you making such a fuss? Do you know how many women would kill to marry a man like Brandon?” 

“Maybe it’s postpartum depression. Claire, if you’re feeling overwhelmed, you should talk it out. Don’t jump to divorce.” 

Brandon took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. He stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. 

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“Babe, we’ve been together for twelve years–through every stage. You’ve always been gentle, never the type to lash out.” 

“I know childbirth was hard on you. You’ve been juggling the company too. Is it the stress? The pressure? Just talk to me, 

we’ll figure it out.” 

The guests looked touched by his words. To them, I was clearly the unreasonable one. 

Even Thomas Lancaster, who’d long since stepped away from the business world, spoke up kindly, “Claire, you’ve always 

been a wonderful daughter–in–law–responsible, devoted. If something’s wrong, just say it. Don’t bottle it up.” 

I didn’t care what anyone thought. I shoved Brandon away and said flatly, “It’s simple. I don’t love you anymore.” 

Dead silence. 

“What did you say?” he asked, stunned. 

“I said–I don’t love you. Not anymore. Got it now?” 

And with that, I walked right past him. 

“Stop!” 

Madison stormed after me, grabbing my arm. 

“Cut it out! Even I can’t watch this anymore.” 

“Have you forgotten how long you chased after Brandon? Three years! And six more before you two finally got married.” 

“Didn’t you promise to stand by him, no matter what? You even have a child now. Do you want to turn that baby into a 

statistic?” 

She was trying so hard to defend him. 

I gave her a smirk. “Why so anxious? Unless… you’ve got something to hide?” 

“I’m just calling out your ungrateful behavior!” she snapped before I could finish. “You come from nothing, and Brandon still never looked down on you–he brought you into his company, made you CEO. If it weren’t for the Lancaster family, 

would you even be where you are today?” 

Smack! 

I slapped her hard. 

“You’re just an assistant. Stay in your lane.” 

Brandon rushed over, panic written all over his face. “Claire, what the hell is wrong with you? Why would you hit her?!” 

He pushed me aside and helped Madison up, his eyes filled with concern–for her. 

“She had it coming.” 

I clenched my fists, not the least bit apologetic. 

That was the final straw for the crowd. To them, I had dropped the mask. The sweet, gracious Claire Whitmore was just a 

sham. 

“Brandon, I’m sorry,” Madison said, eyes downcast. “It’s my fault–I shouldn’t have said anything. Please don’t blame her.” 

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Brandon wiped her tears and murmured, “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. You didn’t deserve that.” 

Then he turned to me, desperation creeping into his voice. “Honey, this has nothing to do with her. Please don’t take it out 

on Madison.” 

“Today’s our son’s birthday. Can we not do this? I’m begging you.” 

He started crying. 

His tears. My silence. 

We couldn’t have looked more different. The guests, of course, took his side. 

Thomas sighed and said earnestly, “Claire, you’ve been a wonderful wife and daughter–in–law. This whole scene is beneath you.” 

“If something’s truly wrong–if you’ve been wronged–show us the proof. We’ll stand by you.” 

He offered me an out. 

But I didn’t take the bait. 

“I’m done with this marriage,” I said firmly. 

Thomas’s face darkened. 

Brandon, still in tears, stared at me. “Are you seeing someone else?” 

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