Chapter 2

My gaze dropped to the coffee table.

It was covered with a full spread of food, luxurious and perfect, like something out of a magazine. The air was filled with a soft fragrance. At the corner of the table sat a bouquet of bright red roses.

So, this was what the house looked like when I was not around. Lively, warm, and happy.

For three years, I had cut myself off from everything I liked. All the soaps and shampoos in the house had been switched to unscented ones. My favorite scented candles had long been left to gather dust.

There was not a single brightly coloured piece of clothing left in my closet because Melanie said strong dyes irritated her skin.

I had turned my own home into something like a hotel, living carefully and cautiously, as if I did not belong in there.

It was all a lie.

Why? The question echoed in my head.

I spoke quietly. "Keith, this is my home. Where exactly do you expect me to go?"

Keith froze for a few seconds.

I had always been gentle and easygoing. He had never heard me speak to him in such a cold tone before.

Melanie's coughing grew louder. Caroline hovered nearby, flustered. "Keith, what do we do? She looks really unwell…"

Her words snapped him back to attention.

His expression turned irritated. "Did you really have to come back right now? Caroline rarely cooks, and Mom just started getting her appetite back. The second you show up, everything descends into chaos!"

He blamed me for everything—for coming home at the wrong time, for ruining their perfect little family moment.

This was my home, yet somehow, my coming back had become the problem.

"Keith," I said, my voice steady, "are you planning to make Caroline the lady of this house? Am I just in your way now?"

His face darkened instantly. "Silvia, that's just your imagination. Stop acting crazy. Caroline is Mom's goddaughter. Of course she has a place in this family!"

The moment he said it, Caroline lit up, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. Melanie dropped the act completely. She looked at me with open disdain, like she was laughing at how ridiculous I was.

I looked at my so-called family members and felt completely alone. A dull ache spread through my chest slowly and steadily.

When Keith saw that I was not moving, he strode over and grabbed my wrist, dragging me toward the door with a grip so tight it sent pain shooting through me.

"Keith, if you drag me out that door today, we're done."

He hesitated.

Right on cue, Melanie's weak voice called out from behind us. "Son… I-I think I'm dying…"

That single sentence wiped away every trace of hesitation in his eyes. He clenched his teeth and shoved me out the door.

I stared at the closed door in front of me, bitterness rising in my throat.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was a message from Keith.

[Honey, I'm sorry. Mom was in real danger just now. Go stay at your parents' place for the night. I'll pick you up tomorrow. Don't overthink it. You're the one I love.]

That was a lie.

I had received messages like that countless times before. How had I never noticed how disgusting they truly were?

At some point, my tears had started falling. They hit the screen, turning the words under them into blurred fragments.

After a long while, I wiped them away and replied silently.

[Okay.]

…

I went to the bank.

When Keith and I got married, both our families paid half the down payment for this apartment. The property was registered under both our names.

I brought a car worth about $500,000 and $300,000 in cash into the marriage.

Back then, Keith said it would be easier to manage investments if the money were placed into a joint account under his care.

I had trusted him completely. I had never once checked where that money went.

When the bank teller handed me the transaction records, my hands started shaking.

Starting a year ago, money had been transferred out of the account every month. It was $20,000 each time, like clockwork.

The recipient's name was Caroline.

Her studying abroad expenses, the designer brands she wore—all of it had been paid for with my money.

I had been cutting back, saving wherever I could, not even buying myself decent clothes anymore.

I let out a bitter laugh.

I felt unbelievably pathetic.