Chapter 3

Diana didn't come home until well after ten o'clock that night.

She stood in the entryway for a long, heavy moment before unceremoniously dropping an assortment of shopping bags onto the floor. Among the designer logos, she carried a box of my favorite blueberry cake.

I sat motionless on the sofa, keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead.

Diana approached, holding a tube of burn cream. She crouched down in front of me, dabbing the ointment onto my hand with extreme care.

I stayed silent. Every time we fought, she did exactly this. She would buy the things I loved, convinced that throwing money at a conflict would fix it.

For over 20 years, that tactic had never failed her. I had forgiven her every single time.

This time, I simply yanked my hand back. She froze mid-motion, her fingers suspended in the air.

"I'm going to start looking for a job tomorrow," I said evenly. "I won't be staying here anymore."

She raised an eyebrow, her gaze finally shifting past me to notice the suitcase propped against the door.

"Pierre, are you seriously throwing a tantrum right now?" she scoffed, pushing herself to her feet. "Looking for a job? Do you have any clue how many years it's been since you last touched a legal file?

Her sharp taunts cut through the room. "Eight years. You've been out of the game for eight whole years. Do you seriously think you can just waltz back into a firm? You're joking. You probably can't even remember half the state bar rules."

She wasn't worried for a second, completely writing off my decision as a ridiculous bluff. But she wasn't wrong.

Eight years was a lifetime in this field. I'd drifted too far from my career.

"Don't bother. I've got my plans," I said, letting out a dry laugh. "Might as well clear the way for your little boyfriend. That way, he doesn't have to hide in the shadows anymore."

Diana gritted her teeth, pinning me with a sharp, freezing stare.

"Don't bother? Pierre, don't you dare forget who you are. Without me and my family, you'd still be a homeless orphan living on the streets. Your father was an institutionalized schizophrenic. Did you finally inherit his crazy genes?"

The words hit me like a bucket of ice water, freezing me to the core.

My mother was dead, and my father was broken. That stigma had been glued to me since the day I was born. In the orphanage, everyone had kept their distance from me, as if trauma were contagious.

The girl I grew up with had protected me from that past. I had almost forgotten it existed. But now, she was slapping that same degrading label back on me without a second thought.

I lifted my head and looked her in the eye. "You think I'm crazy too?"

My voice wavered, thick with a sudden rush of emotion.

She took a deep breath, then tossed the tube of burn cream into the trash can.

"I've been sick of this for years," she spat, unleashing a torrent of built-up resentment. "Ever since we were kids, you've been breathing down my neck, controlling every little thing I do. Who the hell do you think you are?

"I let you have your way half the time, but can you just leave me alone already? I'm exhausted. Sometimes, I think the gossip was right. No wonder you were abandoned. Who could put up with a jinx like you?"

A wave of intense nausea rolled through my empty stomach, a bitter lump forming in my throat. I couldn't throw up or swallow it.

The ten-year-old Diana, the 17-year-old Diana... I had spent years trying to fuse all those cherished versions of her into the woman standing before me.

But she felt like a total stranger. The way she looked at me held no affection—only deep annoyance and indifference.

"Is this because of Tyler?" I asked, my hands trembling. "Is that why you're saying all this?"

We'd been together longer than we'd been apart, but now the last illusions were popping like soap bubbles.

Diana looked down at me, her expression entirely cold. "Tyler and I are exactly what you think we are. I need some excitement in my life, Pierre. If you can't handle that, we can get a divorce."

She paused, a slow, cruel smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "But let's be real. Can you give up this perfect, luxurious life? What could you amount to without me?"