第2章

When the reply came in, Derek pushed the door open and leaned against the frame with a bowl of fried rice.

"Still mad?"

I zipped up my bag.

"Took you long enough. I thought you couldn't tell."

"Stop being dramatic and eat something. By the way, how's the car?"

Rare of him to show concern for me. Or maybe he was just worried about his car getting dirty.

"I can pick it up tomorrow."

"Good. Get it washed while you're at it. And tell your mom to stop bringing seafood."

A text from Mom popped up on my phone.

"Viv, don't come out in this rain. And remind Derek I'll bring him more seafood next time."

My mouth twisted.

"Don't worry. There won't be a next time."

My answer caught him off guard. He was about to say something when a knock at the door cut him off.

Megan poked her head in.

"Derek, Kitty doesn't have any food. I need to go buy some cat food."

I grabbed my bag and stood up, but Derek held me back.

"I'll drop you off on the way."

"But the pet store isn't in the same direction as Vivian's hotel. I'm afraid the cat might die."

Megan's eyes went red, as if the perfectly healthy cat was about to drop dead any second.

Derek hesitated for two seconds, then let go of my hand. "Just take a cab. It's not far."

Back when I lived by the coast, the rainy season lasted for months.

During those months, Derek practically glued himself to me, terrified I'd get caught in the rain.

That was when he made up his mind to save up for a car, swearing he'd never let me get rained on again.

Now we had two cars, and yet I'd been caught in every rain life had to offer.

I walked out into the downpour and found that the ride-hailing app had crashed.

Derek's car pulled up from behind.

Megan sat in the passenger seat, her eyes sweeping over me with a look of triumph.

She took in every detail of my bedraggled state.

I'd hired Megan because she and Derek shared the same background, the same dreams.

Derek wanted to help her the way my father had once helped him.

One thing led to another, and the helping found its way home.

Then again, my father's help had found its way home too.

He didn't just give Derek his daughter. He handed him the gallery he'd spent his life building.

By the time I reached the hotel, I was soaked head to toe.

Mom was asleep. I went to the laundry room to dry my clothes.

A notification on the delivery app showed a new order for cat food and litter, shipped to our apartment.

On Megan's Facebook, my guest room had already become her bedroom.

I picked up my phone and sent another text to that person.

"I also want the gallery back."

By morning, the rain had eased up.

When I got to the office, my assistant pulled me aside.

"Vivian, the lead coordinator for the exhibition has been changed to Megan?"

I froze, then saw the announcement Derek had posted in the group chat.

An announcement. Not a discussion.

I stormed into his office, holding up my phone.

"What is this?"

"I've been working on this for the better part of a year, and you just swap me out?"

He looked up, as if he'd been waiting for me to come.

Calm and indifferent, he informed me all over again.

"Vivian, don't make a scene. She needs this opportunity. You can afford to sit one out."

My heart clenched. This exhibition was the one my father had entrusted to me on his deathbed.

Derek had been at his bedside, promising to see it through.

"Have you forgotten what you promised him?"

My voice trembled. I wanted to fight this out with him.

But then I noticed the necklace on Megan's chest.

It was the gift Derek gave me after selling his very first painting.

Noticing my gaze, Megan lifted the pendant with her fingertip, her eyes brimming with wounded innocence.

"Vivian, I just thought it was pretty. Please don't be mad. I'll give it back right now."

"It's just a necklace. Not worth anything. Keep it if you like."

His casual dismissal severed the last thread of attachment I had left.

Right. Ten years of love. Not worth anything either.

If it's broken, let it break.

As I left his office, Mom's call came in.

I picked up but didn't hear her voice. Instead, there was shouting on the other end.

"You're the thief!"

"This is not your daughter's home!"

"This place belongs to my son-in-law!"