Chapter 5

"What are you doing, Winter?" Joshua wrapped an arm around Jessica's waist, steadying her. He glared at Winter, whose face was pale from the pain.

Winter coldly eyed the pair, her right hand clutching her injured arm as a bead of sweat slid down her cheek. Her voice was devoid of warmth as she said, "I didn't touch her. She grabbed me first."

"You pushed her because of that?" Joshua simmered, his emotions barely restrained. "Jessica is your sister, and you're family. Why do you keep targeting her?"

"My sister?" Winter let out a soft, mocking laugh, her gaze as sharp as a blade. "We don't share a mother or a last name. How is she my sister? Don't even think of linking me to her."

She'd originally been a Lynch. But when she was 18, her father, Steven Lynch, had insisted on selling her mother, Victoria Everhart's old house in Jeston to fund his company.

They'd had a fierce argument, and he'd slapped her in front of Jessica and her mother. From that day, Winter had vowed never to carry the Lynch name again, taking Victoria's surname instead.

Joshua's brows knitted tightly as he stared at Winter. He didn't know what had gotten into her that day—she was like a loaded cannon, ready to blast anyone in her path.

"Josh, it was my fault. I lost my balance. I'm sure Winter didn't mean it…" Jessica leaned into Joshua's warm embrace, her eyes misty and aggrieved. "I came to her to apologize in person. Terry's asthma attack was my fault, and I feel awful. It's only right that Winter is upset with me."

"Winter, apologize to Jessica," Joshua ordered coldly, his eyes brimming with authority.

There he went again.

In their five years of marriage, the phrase Winter had said most to him was "I'm sorry".

"I'm sorry. I messed up."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thoughtful enough. I'll apologize to Heather."

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

But had Winter ever been wrong? No, she had never!

She stared at Joshua icily and laughed bitterly as her eyes reddened. "You want me to apologize? Fine, then. Make her get on her knees if she wants to hear it."

Jessica trembled in Joshua's arms. He snarled, "Don't take this too far, Winter!"

"Too far? This is nothing, Mr. Stroud. Can't handle it already?" Winter's lips curved into a radiant, frosty smile. "Don't worry. There's more where that came from."

With that, she turned and strode away without another look back.

Joshua watched her slender yet defiant figure disappear, replaying that unfamiliar smile in his mind. His eyes darkened.

Jessica noticed his gaze lingering on Winter. She pursed her lips and said gently, "You should go after her, Josh. I'm fine."

He lowered his gaze and steadied her by the waist, helping her to her feet. "Ignore her. I'll take you home."

…

That afternoon, Terence's condition stabilized, and he was escorted back to Rippleview Court by Richard and some bodyguards.

Despite having an important meeting, Joshua personally drove Jessica, who claimed to be unwell, home before heading to the company for the meeting. He was usually strict about punctuality, yet he arrived late, keeping a dozen senior executives waiting for an hour.

He returned home at dinner time. As he stepped inside the house, he casually tossed his suit jacket forward, expecting it to be caught by a pair of slender hands. Instead, it fell to the floor.

He stared at it as irritation clouded his eyes. For the past five years, whenever he came home, Winter would hurry to him in her apron and flash a submissive yet eager smile. She would take his jacket and fetch his lounge slippers, serving him better than any maid.

Maids were hired, but Winter was his wife. She was utterly devoted to him, which was why she could serve him flawlessly.

Frustration surged in Joshua. He snapped, "Gretchen!"

"Mr. Stroud, you're back!" Gretchen hurried over. "Dinner's ready. Mr. Terence is waiting in the dining room."

Joshua scanned the cold, quiet living room. "Where's Winter? Is she back?"

"Not yet… The kitchen prepared dinner. I hope it's to your liking."

He pressed his lips into a tight line as he loosened his tie and strode to the dining room.

The long table seated only two people, and they ate in silence. The dishes were exquisite but soulless, lacking the warmth of home-cooked food. Joshua and Terence both felt like they were chewing cardboard.

"Dad, I'm done." Terence pouted, setting down his cutlery.

Joshua glanced at him. "You barely ate. Are you a bird or something?"

"No, I'm not. It's just that the food isn't as good as Mom's, and I can't stomach it…" Terence mumbled, dejected. "I want Mom's cream of mushroom, meatballs, barbecue pork ribs, and hot n' spicy wings…"

"That's enough. Those are just common dishes. What's so special about them?" Joshua secretly swallowed. "You're the Stroud family's heir, and it won't do to have a few simple dishes control your tastes."

Terence forced down a few more bites, not daring to say anything else.

Joshua wiped his lips elegantly with a napkin. "Call your mother. Ask where she is and when she's coming back."

"No way." Terence sulked. "Mom was awful today. She made Aunt Jessie cry! She hasn't even apologized, so I'm not calling her! It'd be like betraying Aunt Jessie…"

He was so young, yet he was already using sharp words like "betray".

Joshua's expression darkened. He was about to scold Terence when Gretchen gasped. "Mr. Stroud, I just remembered that it's Mrs. Stroud's birthday today!"

Joshua and Terence froze, staring at each other.

Gretchen added tentatively, "Is that why she's upset and won't come home? Because you forgot her birthday?"

Joshua narrowed his eyes slightly as the realization dawned.

…

Two hours later, Winter dragged a large suitcase into the villa. She went straight to the bedroom, opened the wardrobe, and started stuffing clothes into the case.

"What are you doing?" Joshua strode in, his handsome face as cold as ice.

She kept her back to him as she continued packing briskly. "I'm packing my things and moving out."

"Moving out? What about Terry?" Joshua curled his lip mockingly, as if he'd heard a joke. "You love him like your life depends on it; he's your heart and soul. You used to miss him after a single day apart. Now, you're moving out? Can you bear to let him go?"

Winter paused and straightened up, lost in thought.

She was talentless and rootless. Just as Joshua thought she would back down, she said firmly, "I can."

Joshua froze.

"Without me, he still has his precious Aunt Jessie. Besides, he doesn't need me anymore," Winter said coolly.

Joshua marched forward and stopped beside her, looming like an imposing iceberg. "Listen to yourself, Winter. Do you sound like a mother? He's your son, and you're just abandoning him?"

"Since you think I'm so inadequate and unfit to be a mother, let's just part ways and find our own paths. You can pick a new mother for Terence—one he likes…"

Joshua didn't give Winter the chance to continue. He grabbed her wrist tightly.

"Let go." It throbbed painfully, and her brows knitted together as she tried to pull free. However, his strength overwhelmed her.

She was already weak, so this struggle left her covered in a thin sheen of cold sweat.

Joshua had always been rough with Winter. He was never gentle, especially when it came to sleeping together. In the early days of their marriage, he'd often left her bruised, forcing her to wear high collars and long sleeves in summer to hide the marks. It often drew snickers from the maids behind her back.

Sometimes, Winter wondered if he was like this with Jessica, too. Probably not.

Jessica loved wearing off-shoulder tops and short skirts. Every time Winter saw her, her skin was smooth and flawless.

Clearly, Joshua was nothing but gentle with her. Well, how could he bear to let someone he'd loved for years get hurt?

Just then, Winter felt something heavy in her palm.

Joshua pressed a delicate black velvet box into her hand, his stern eyes radiating a natural arrogance. "It's your birthday, right? Happy birthday."