Chapter 3

I took a room at the first hotel I found to spend the night.

After printing out my resignation letter, I made a phone call.

“I’m accepting your job offer from before. I’ll arrive in Molesia tomorrow.”

There was a happy agreement on the other end of the line.

By the time I bought my flight ticket, four hours had passed.

My phone screen lit up with a call from Aria.

After a beat of hesitation, I answered it.

Aria’s voice was tired. “You left the WhatsApp group, Joshua? Stop throwing a tantrum. I talked it through with Chester, and he’s letting you come back to stay. But you have to do the chores and cook all the meals.”

I let out a sardonic laugh.

“You really are thinking of me like a housekeeper, aren’t you, Aria?”

Aria denied it.

“Don’t talk nonsense. You know Chester’s condition right now. Be good. Chester is treating everyone to dinner tomorrow and has come up with a menu. Make sure you do all the shopping and come home on time.”

A long list popped up on the screen.

There was Chester’s favorite chicken wings, Aria’s favorite steak, Vanessa’s favorite juice, and Emery’s favorite chips.

There were many more entries, adding up to several dozen items.

There was nothing there for me.

Once again, I stood separate from the four of them.

My heart was cold.

I did not want to make any more useless arguments. I simply cut the call and blocked Aria’s number.

The next day, I went to the office to work out my resignation.

Before I could step inside, Chester led a group of journalists and strode over to me.

Before I could react, he slapped me.

A journal spilled to the floor, flapping open.

It was the journal I had thrown away yesterday, the one Aria had used to detail our relationship.

“I was wondering why you kept hanging around my house with Aria without leaving, Joshua! It seems you’ve been fantasizing about my wife every day in this journal of yours! How could you be so despicable? We’re friends!”

I was dizzy from Chester’s slap, and it took a lot of effort to come back to myself.

The journalists surged forward, shoving microphones in my face and pointing cameras at me.

“Mr. Hutton, we heard that you’d rather work as Ms. Quentin’s assistant for the past six years than accept generous offers from other companies to take a leadership role.

“Was this so that you could get close to Ms. Quentin? You’ve been staying in Ms. Quentin’s new house meant for her newlywed life. Is it because you want to become her secret lover?”

The lights flashed so rapidly that I could not open my eyes.

When they heard the commotion, passersby stopped and started telling me off.

I felt the world spin around me. Finally, I could not take it anymore.

I snapped at him, “I didn’t write that journal; Aria wrote it for me! You had amnesia and mistook Aria for your girlfriend. Aria was supposed to get married to me!”