Chapter 3

"Heather just got back and has nowhere to stay. Since we have spare rooms, I thought she could stay here for a couple of days."

Behind Chandler, Heather stepped inside with her suitcase, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. When she saw me, she immediately put on a sweet, apologetic smile.

"I'm so sorry, Danielle. It's peak tourist season, and every hotel nearby is fully booked, so I had no choice but to ask Chandler for help. You don't mind, do you?"

My hand tightened around the stair railing as I forced out the words. "Do whatever you want. Just don't touch anything."

Heather beamed and eagerly pulled her suitcase further inside. From the moment she entered, Chandler never left her side, his eyes following her every move.

An uncomfortable knot tightened in my chest. I was about to retreat to my room when I heard a voice down the hallway. "I want this room, Chandler! I love it!"

Panic surged in my chest as I ran over and shouted to stop them, "No!"

Startled, they both turned to look at me. My eyes were red-rimmed as I blurted out, "This was my grandma's room before she passed. There are plenty of other empty rooms; just pick any of them but this one."

Heather's eyes glinted with mischief at that. She clung to Chandler's arm and whined playfully. "I really want this room, Chandler. I love the decor; you can see the garden from the window!"

Chandler looked at her with clear affection before turning to me with a helpless sigh. "Your grandma's been dead for years, and the room's been empty ever since. No harm done if Heather uses it for a few days."

I was nearly begging as I cried out, "Please, Chandler. We promised we'd always keep this room exactly as it was."

He hesitated because he'd indeed promised me that at Grandma's funeral.

Sensing his reluctance, Heather suddenly released his arm and put on a pitiful act. "I know what, I never should have come here. If Danielle won't even let me stay in a spare room, I should just leave."

She turned to wheel her suitcase out, so Chandler immediately panicked and yanked her back. "Don't be ridiculous. It's late, and I won't let you stay outside alone.

"Danielle, let Heather have this room."

His tone was firm and cold. In all seven years of marriage, he'd never spoken to me in such a sharp, commanding tone, but I stood my ground.

To my surprise, he shoved me aside and led Heather into the room.

I stumbled back and collapsed to the floor in a daze. In the room, Heather twirled around happily before flopping onto the large, soft bed. "Thank you for being so understanding, Danielle. I promise I won't touch anything—Oh!"

Before she could even finish, her arm swung out and "accidentally" knocked over a vase on the bedside table. It was my late grandma's favorite porcelain vase, now shattered into pieces on the floor.

I couldn't take it anymore and stormed forward to shove her hard.

"I'm so sorry, Danielle. It was an accident—" Heather began, but before she was done with her apology, a sharp, stinging pain exploded across my cheek.

It was Chandler, who'd just slapped me for the first time in all seven years of our marriage.

For a moment, an eerie silence hung in the air. He stared at his hands, eyes wide in panic.

I recoiled as he reached out to steady me, and his expression quickly darkened. "Are you done causing a scene? It was just a vase, so was it really necessary to push her?

"Heather's staying in this room tonight. You go back to yours and calm down."

With that, he gripped my wrist firmly and pushed me into my room.

As the door slammed shut, I slid helplessly to the floor, my tears finally breaking free.