Chapter 4

Just as I finished speaking, I heard Jude calling from farther down the hall. "Gill, Brenda wants you back inside!"

Gillian immediately turned and headed toward him without thinking.

After taking a few steps, she seemed to remember I was still standing there. She stopped and turned back. "Thomas, what were you saying?"

Before I could answer, she gave a casual smile. "Whatever it was, you can decide. You're going to be the one calling the shots at home anyway."

She took my hand, speaking faster than usual. "I know you're not a fan of these kinds of gatherings. Why don't you head home first? Just text me when you get there so I know you're safe. I won't walk you out, okay?"

She phrased it like a question, but she clearly didn't expect an answer. The moment she finished, she turned and walked away without looking back.

I watched her from behind, my heart sinking with every step.

That half-hearted attempt to soothe me wasn't about me at all. Gillian just wanted to wrap things up as quickly as possible so she could rush back to Jude.

She didn't care about me at all. My words, my safety—none of it mattered. She was just going through the motions, saying the things a good girlfriend was expected to say.

Even if I did text Gillian when I got home, she wouldn't reply. She never checked her phone when she was with Jude.

Fortunately, I was done embarrassing myself. I had said everything I needed to say. Whatever happened next had nothing to do with her anymore.

Neither of them came home that night. Gillian didn't even bother to check in.

Just as I expected, she didn't care whether I got home safely. And as for where the two of them went, I couldn't care less either.

I spent the next day packing up my things and had the non-essentials shipped out. Only then did I realize how little of my stuff actually was in the house.

When Gillian and I rented the place, she gave the master bedroom to Jude right away. He had an entire wall of closet space for his clothes, along with his own high-end gaming setup.

In the room Gillian and I shared, the already cramped closet was packed with her dresses, leaving my clothes neatly folded in a small corner. I had to squeeze my workspace right next to the bed, without even enough room for a chair.

I never thought much of it back then. I just figured Jude was making serious money.

Whenever I mentioned it, Gillian would always brush it off. "He doesn't earn that much. He just likes wasting money on useless stuff. I'll throw it all out one of these days."

Only later did I find out that the expensive suits filling Jude's closet and his six-figure gaming setup had all been gifts from Gillian. She had never put that kind of thought into anything for me.

My eyes suddenly stung when I thought about it. I quickly tilted my head up and blinked away the tears. If something was never meant to be mine, I didn't want it anymore.

After checking that I hadn't left anything behind, I scheduled a courier pickup. Just as the delivery guy took my packages, my phone rang.

"Is this Mr. Sawyer? This is Tim Larson from Briarwood Realty. You asked me to help you find an interior designer, and I…"

As the real estate agent eagerly explained everything, my mind wandered for a moment.

So much had happened lately that I'd completely forgotten about the house. It was still waiting to be renovated.

I had bought it for Gillian and me to live in after the wedding, and we agreed it would be my wedding gift to her.

It was the first time I'd spent that much money without worrying about the cost. I was simply too happy to care.

Now, the more excited I had been when I bought it, the more bitter I felt now. There was no point keeping the house if there was no wedding.

"I'm sorry, but I won't be needing the designer anymore. As for the house… List it for sale instead. I want to sell it as soon as possible," I said.

Tim went quiet. I thought he'd been caught off guard by my request, but then he asked hesitantly, "Mr. Sawyer, is this what the owner wants?"

I was completely confused. Wasn't I the owner?

When I bought the house, I didn't even put Gillian's name on the deed because she insisted we wait until after we were married to combine our assets.

Before I could ask Tim what he meant, I heard him typing on his keyboard.

A moment later, he added, "Mr. Sawyer, the property was transferred to Mr. Jude Chadwick last month. If you want to sell it, we'll need the owner's consent."