Chapter 3

Ivan said, "I had dinner with Vicky outside and came home after that. I only drank the milk you left by my bed. It couldn't have been anyone else."

In my previous life, I had wondered why Ivan hadn't investigated who had drugged him. I had assumed that he was set up by someone and didn't want to say much about it.

At that moment, I realized that he had thought it was me. It was no wonder he hated me.

He hated me so much that he dragged my parents down with me.

He hated me so much that he could not even allow the six-month-old baby in my belly to come to

this world.

Bitterness filled my chest, and my eyes stung.

"Believe what you like, but I didn't do it. I swear it wasn't me."

At that moment, the door to Ivan's room opened. Vicky appeared, wearing one of Ivan's shirts. She looked like a frightened little rabbit as she asked, "Ivan, is Iris upset with me?"

Ivan watched me with caution. "Iris isn't upset with you. She'll only wish us well."

"Ivan's right, Vicky," I said, a faint smile lifting my lips. "You rescued him when he was at his lowest. I'll speak on your behalf and make sure Mom and Dad approve your marriage."

A flicker of triumph passed across Vicky's face. Ivan's gaze, however, remained doubtful and scrutinizing.

There was nothing for him to doubt.

Ivan would protect Vicky at any cost, even if her intentions were not entirely pure. But I refused to let Mom and Dad bear any risk.

"Don't stress Mr. and Mrs. Goldsmith out. I know I'm not worthy to be Ivan's wife. I just want to stay by his side."

Ivan seemed to like pretentious women like that. It was no wonder he had never been interested in me.

He held her tenderly, but when he wasn't looking, Vicky struck a triumphant pose.

"Iris, my clothes were torn by Ivan. Could I borrow some of yours?" she asked shyly.

Ivan asked me, "Didn't I give you a dress last month? You never wore it. If you don't like it, Vicky can have it."

That had been his birthday gift to me. It wasn't that I didn't like it. Surely he knew that it was so precious to me that I couldn't bear to put it on.

He even wanted back what he had gifted me. I felt a shiver pass through me, but it settled quickly.

Vicky slipped into my dress and twirled around, showing it off. She ignored me while clinging to Ivan and asking him if she looked pretty.

But it didn't bother me. In this life, I only wanted to live peacefully with Mom and Dad.

They had gone on vacation for two weeks.

When they returned, Ivan was already insisting to them that he must marry Vicky.

When I came home, I saw that shards of a broken teacup littered the floor.

Mom's expression was dark as she patted Dad's back to steady him.

Ivan sat across from them, expressionless.

"Mom, Dad!" I rushed into their arms, fighting back tears.

Their expressions softened immediately.

"You're still acting like a child at this age?" Dad remarked, ruffling my hair.

Mom pulled me onto the couch.

"What do you think about Ivan marrying his secretary, Iris?" Dad asked, doting on me.

Ivan looked at me, his expression distant.

I said, "I think it's great. Vicky and Ivan suit each other."

Mom frowned. "Do you really think so?"

"Mom, Ivan is 26 now. He has the right to choose whoever he wants to marry. We should support him."

No matter how much I wanted to stop him from doing so, he wouldn't budge, so what could I do other than support him?

Seeing that my parents still wouldn't relent, I continued, "Whether we like Vicky or not doesn't matter. He likes her, and that's all that matters. After they marry, they can live separately from us. I'll always be with you two."