Chapter 2

The sound of a key turning came from the door. I'd just stuffed the last piece of clothing into my suitcase when the bedroom door was pushed open.

George walked in with Mia in his arms. She wore a loose white dress, her face pale.

When George saw the suitcase by my feet, his brows knit, clear displeasure flashing in his eyes. "What are you doing? Didn't I tell you this was just a temporary solution? Why are you causing a scene and trying to run away from home?"

He let go of Mia and strode toward me, reaching for my suitcase.

I stepped aside, my gaze indifferent. "Since you've already married her, it's only right for me to move out of this marital home. I wouldn't want to be an eyesore to your newlywed wife."

Mia immediately shrank back and hid behind George, choking up as she asked, "George, is Ms. Slater mad at me? I'll leave right now. I'll give Ms. Slater her place back. Even if I have to jump off the balcony, it's worth it as long as you two are fine."

She bolted for the door, but George yanked her into his arms and shielded her like she was made of glass. "You're still not fully recovered. Where do you think you're going? I won't let you go anywhere!"

When he turned to me, his gaze turned downright frosty. "Geri, can you be reasonable for once? I already told you that there's nothing between Mia and me. What we have is pure friendship. You don't have to twist everything into something filthy.

"Mia's doctor said she needs a quiet, spacious, and relaxing place to recuperate. This penthouse has the best view, so I brought her here to stay for a few days. Are you really going to nitpick over that?"

He pointed toward the hallway, his tone making it clear that there was no room for argument. "Move out of the master bedroom and let Mia have it. You can stay in the guest room. She'll leave once she's better."

I was so furious that I let out a derisive laugh. This apartment was the marital home I'd spent six whole months designing and decorating. I'd drawn the floor plans myself, supervised every step of the renovation, and watched every brick and tile be placed. Every piece of furniture and every painting on the wall carried my heart.

"George Anderson." I looked at him icily. "If anyone's leaving, it's you two. This is my place."

His expression darkened, clearly not expecting me to talk back when I'd always been compliant.

Suddenly, Mia grabbed her chest and gasped for air as tears spilled down her cheeks. "George, her ring is so bright and sparkly that it's hurting my eyes. Is she trying to remind me that I'm nothing but an intruder who doesn't deserve to stand in the light? I deserve to die!"

She screamed as she pointed at the five-carat diamond ring on my left ring finger, her whole body trembling.

George's expression changed in an instant. He hurriedly calmed her as she had her "episode", then turned and stared at my hand like it was the problem. He hissed, "Geri, take the ring off."

My eyes widened in disbelief. "What did you say?"

He strode over and grabbed my wrist, talking as if it were the most reasonable request in the world. "Mia can't handle any kind of emotional trigger right now. That ring is a psychological cue for her. Just lend it to her for a few days and help desensitize her. Once she gets over it, I'll buy you an even bigger one."

I struggled with everything I had, but I was no match for his strength. The diamond ring was ripped off my finger, scraping my skin raw as it slid past my knuckle.

George didn't even notice the blood. He simply turned and slipped the ring onto Mia's finger. "See, Mia? It's fine. It's just a regular piece of jewelry. There's nothing to be afraid of."

His voice was so gentle that it made my stomach turn. I watched them as bile rose in my throat.

I didn't want to say another word. I just wanted to grab my things and get out. But the second I stepped into the living room, I froze. On the couch, my wedding gown lay in tatters, its thin white scraps littering the floor like trash.

"Oh no. Ms. Slater, I'm so sorry." At some point, Mia had slipped out of the bedroom. She covered her mouth, her eyes wide with faux horror. "I had another episode just now, and my hands just moved on their own. The dress must've been really expensive, right? I'll pay you back, okay?"

For a whole month, my mother had put her heart and soul into sewing that wedding gown for me, every stitch done by hand. Even if I wasn't going to go through with the wedding anymore, I'd planned to take the gown with me and keep it safe.

I trembled all over in rage and lunged forward, my hand raised to slap Mia. But my wrist was caught in a bruising grip from behind—George had chased after me.

"Are you insane, Geri? Mia's a patient! Why are you picking on her?" he roared.

He flung my arm away with such force that I stumbled forward, my waist and abdomen slamming hard against the corner of the coffee table. White-hot pain shot through me. I clutched my stomach, cold sweat instantly soaking my back.

George didn't spare me a single glance. He was too busy checking Mia over for injuries. "Don't be scared, Mia. Did she frighten you? Come on, ignore her. I'll take you into the room to rest."

He helped her up and shot me a look full of disgust. "Look at yourself. You're acting like some crazed shrew now."

I curled up against the wall for a long time, waiting for the pain to ebb enough so I could stand. When I finally managed to straighten up, I remembered that I'd left my phone charger in the study. I headed over to get it.

The door was ajar. After settling Mia down, George went in there to take a call.

"George, did you really marry that chick? Can Geri handle it?" His friend's teasing voice drifted from the phone.

George lit a cigarette, his tone lazy and arrogant. "She'll deal with it. She has to. She's been with me for a decade; I've already made sure that she's useless without me. Where else can she go if she leaves me?

"Besides, she's considerate and attentive. She keeps the house running like clockwork and is basically a high-end, live-in caregiver I don't need to pay for. As long as I don't say that we're over, she'll sit there and wait for me. Women are easy to deal with—just ignore them for a few days, and they'll calm down."

A high-end and free live-in caregiver. In his mind, that was all my ten years of devotion amounted to.

I stood quietly outside the door, listening to his confident laughter. Then, I shut my eyes as the last bit of attachment and reluctance I had toward the past dissolved into nothing.

I turned around, grabbed my suitcase, and walked out of that suffocating apartment without looking back.