Chapter 2

[Susanna's POV]

Before I could make another attempt at entering another passcode, the door suddenly opened from within.

Daisy, in a pink apron, looked at me, smiling and holding a spatula.

"Oh, Suze, you're home. Rob and I are making supper for you."

When she noticed me looking at the door lock, a realization appeared to flash across her face. She smiled at me sheepishly and explained, "Oh, Suze, the passcode is my birthday. My memory isn't that great, and Rob was afraid I'd forget the passcode and be stuck outside."

I lifted my head and glanced at Robert, who was in the kitchen. This man had never been into cooking. Yet, he was currently busying himself in the kitchen, wearing an apron that matched Daisy's.

When he heard us talking about him, he looked up and flashed Daisy a smile. But when his gaze landed on me, he wiped the smile off his face and said coldly, "Welcome back. Wash your hands, and let's have a housewarming meal.

"Dee Dee made these specially for you. She actually wanted to cook for you even after having a busy day out!"

Daisy shot him a displeased look, saying, "We are family. There's no need to be so calculative about that. Your family is mine as well, Rob. Ignore him, Suze."

Even though there was indoor heating making the place toasty, my blood had turned colder than the temperature outside.

I pursed my lips slightly and looked down to change into a pair of indoor slippers. However, I couldn't find my slippers no matter where I looked.

All of a sudden, Daisy smacked her own forehead, then proceeded to retrieve a newly-bought pair of cotton slippers from the top shelf in the shoe cupboard in a well-practised manner.

"Suze, I thought your cotton slippers looked too worn, so I took the liberty of throwing them out. But I haven't had time to buy a new pair of slippers yet."

I kicked away the slippers she had placed by my feet. "Who gave you permission to touch my things just as you wish?" I questioned.

Daisy remained rooted to the spot, stunned. Then, her eyes welled up, and she choked, "I'm sorry, Suze. I meant well—"

Robert rushed over toward us and shielded Daisy behind him as he roared at me, "Susanna Robins, don't make a mountain out of a molehill. Did you have to get so enraged over a pair of old slippers?"

Daisy grasped onto his sleeves and shook her head. Submissively, she said, "It's fine, Rob. It was my fault. Don't get into an argument with Suze all because of me…"

Despite that, Robert's rage only intensified. "Dee Dee was so kind to help us with moving and unpacking. She even made dinner for you. Is this how you show your gratitude?"

I clenched my hands into tight fists, feeling my nails pressing against my palms. The pain was the only thing holding my tears back.

"Those weren't just any pair of old slippers. My mom left those for me before she passed! Who gave you the right to get rid of them, Daisy?"

Robert was dumbfounded. Right after that, as if suddenly recalling something, he massaged his forehead and softened his tone. "Still, you shouldn't take it out on Dee Dee. She didn't know a thing. I was the one who forgot and failed to stop her."

I stared at him in disbelief. Because my feet always felt cold in winter, Mom, despite her failing health, had handmade those slippers for me before she died.

In fact, she hadn't asked for anything before she died. She simply entrusted me to Robert. Worried that he would mistreat me, she had used the gentlest words, pleading with him to look after me well.

Robert and I had dated for five years. He was the one who stood by me through every breakdown and every moment of despair.

Yet, he was now telling me that he had forgotten.

"I'll head downstairs with you after our housewarming dinner to look for it. Can you please just stop making a scene?"

I stared deeply at him, then spun around and headed down the stairs without saying a single word. The old, run-down residential building had no overhead lights. In my rush, I was careless, missed my footing, and tumbled down the stairs.

A sharp pain shot through my belly. It hurt so badly that I couldn't even stand.

Fresh blood stained my garments, and I called out to Robert instinctively. However, no matter how long I screamed for him, he never came.

The metallic stench of blood filled the air in the empty stairwell. In my dazed state, I thought I saw Robert—not the 27-year-old Robert, but the 22-year-old Robert who had loved me with his life.

Robert and I had met when we were in college. That year, I was the college belle while he was the campus heartthrob.

Everyone rooted for us, but we were utterly incompatible. I couldn't stand his pretentiousness, and he couldn't stand my spoiled, princess-like attitude.