Chapter 3

When we first got together seven years ago, Lucille had told me that Derek was sensitive and that I needed to be more 'understanding.'

I finally understood what 'understanding' really meant. It meant I was the one who had to swallow every grievance and take the blame every single time.

It worsened when Derek loved to torment me under the guise of joking around. Once, while I was in a meeting with a female client, he barged in and claimed he was catching me cheating on Lucille. In the end, he offended the client so badly that I lost a contract worth tens of millions of dollars.

On the anniversary of Mom's death, he swapped out the candles and flowers I had prepared and replaced them with dog food. He said he wanted the old lady to try something new.

However, Lucille always defended his actions and blamed me for being petty instead.

"Derek jokes with you because he considers you a friend and wants to get along with you. Don't be so ungrateful!"

Three months ago, Derek went even further. At my birthday yacht party, he caught me off guard and pushed me into the ocean to drift with the waves.

It was not until three days later that the rescue team found me, dehydrated and unconscious. My skin was covered in sores and infected in multiple places.

When I woke up in the hospital, all I heard was Lucille comforting him in the hallway. "This isn't your fault. It's his own fault that he can't swim well. If he had just swum back to shore, nothing would've happened."

When I was discharged, Lucille finally showed up. Instead of comforting me, though, she defended Derek again.

She said, "Derek really didn't mean to hurt you, and he's been so guilt-ridden he hasn't eaten in days. Can't you just let it go? I already talked to the police and told them you accidentally fell off the boat yourself, and it has nothing to do with Derek."

From that moment on, my heart slowly went numb.

The hospital room was eerily quiet. I pulled out my phone and opened social media.

Right then, I saw a post Derek had just made. In the video, he had actually dumped Mom's remaining ashes from the urn into a swimming pool.

He scattered them, laughing loudly. "Mrs. Bourdain, you've been cooped up in that jar for so long. Let me let you out for some fresh air."

I was enraged and immediately dialed Lucille's number. After dozens of attempts, she finally picked up.

I could no longer contain my fury and shouted hoarsely, "Lucille! Derek dumped my mom's ashes into the swimming pool. Isn't that at our house? Why didn't you stop him?"

Lucille simply scoffed. "She's already dead and just a pile of ashes. Why are you so worked up? Fine, Derek is in such a good mood for once, so I'll forgive your earlier mistakes–this time.

"Anyway, let's have our wedding next week… But remember: you're not allowed to argue with him anymore, or don't blame me for changing my mind anytime!"

As she spoke, I heard Derek's obscene laughter in the background. "Lucille, why don't we try having some fun in the pool this time? That would be so thrilling."

Lucille brushed me off with a few words and hung up the phone.

Listening to the dial tone, my entire body went cold. This shameless pair was actually going to do that disgusting thing in a pool filled with Mom's ashes.

Did they really not fear any consequences at all?

Just then, my phone received a message from the jewelry store manager.

[Mr. Bourdain, the diamond ring you ordered has arrived. Do you need me to deliver it now?]

[Not yet,] I replied decisively.

I added another line. [I need to reselect the style and size of the ring.]

Three days later, I checked myself out of the hospital and headed home alone. As soon as I entered the living room, I saw Derek lying naked on the couch, and the floor was littered with used condoms.

Lucille had just walked out of the bedroom wearing only lingerie. When she saw me, she was clearly flustered and quickly wrapped herself in a bathrobe.

"You're back? Didn't the doctor say you needed to stay in the hospital for a week?"

She glanced at the things on the floor and rushed to make excuses. "Spencer, don't get the wrong idea. Derek bought these to blow up like balloons for fun."

As for Derek, from the moment he saw me walk in, there was not a trace of surprise on his face. Instead, he deliberately raised his voice.

"Spencer, looks like you weren't hurt that badly. It's only been a few days, and you're already out of the hospital. You weren't pretending to be sick before just to get sympathy, were you?"