Chapter 3

After the statement was released, everyone praised Dylan for his decisive judgment. There were also people who commended me for being so sensible, claiming I truly lived up to my reputation as the lady of the Smith family.

Sophia organized a family dinner to quell the rumors. "The whole family will be here tonight, so don't wear that sour look on your face. Phoebe's been through a fright. So, if she says anything out of line, you should be the bigger person and let it slide."

I nodded. "I understand."

Dylan picked out a loose-fitting dress for me. "You haven't recovered yet. So, you can just make an appearance and head home."

Having said his piece, he took a pearl brooch from the jewelry box and pinned it to my chest. It was the birthday gift he'd given me during our first year of marriage.

Smith Group had been facing a cash flow crisis at the time. He'd been so strapped for cash that he'd sold his car. I told him I didn't want anything, but he'd used the money from selling his watch to buy this brooch. "My wife deserves everything everyone else has."

I caressed the pearl. It was still there. However, the man who used to put me above everything else seemed to be gone.

When we arrived at Smith Manor, Phoebe was keeping Dylan's grandmother, Eleanor Sinclair, company. The former was wearing the Smith family's emerald bracelet.

The year I married into the family, Mrs. Smith Senior had told me that it was meant for the daughter-in-law of the Smith family. Yet, even after wearing my wedding ring for seven years, I'd never once been allowed to touch that bracelet.

"Phoebe's wearing a forest green gown today, so I lent her the bracelet," Sophia explained with a smile.

Phoebe raised her hand. "Harper, you don't mind, do you?"

I shook my head. "I don't mind."

Her smile became gentler. "Then again, you've never worn it before, so you probably don't care for it."

Dylan knitted his brows. However, he ultimately said, "Let's eat."

Mrs. Smith Senior asked about the project on the west side of the city during dinner.

It had been the most difficult period of Dylan's life. I'd stood by him through six grueling months before we finally secured the deal.

I'd waited four hours in the snow to convince a senior board member to change his mind. By the time I returned home, I was running a high fever.

Dylan had held me in his arms and repeated, "Harper, once I've established myself, I'll never make you beg anyone for anything again!"

However, now, the new person in charge of that project was Phoebe. She sat beside him and spoke confidently and at length about the empire I'd helped him build from the ground up.

The Smiths showered her with praise. "Phoebe's the one who truly suits Dylan. Her family background and perspective are exactly on his level."

"No matter how hard one tries later in life, some things simply can't be learned," Sophia added apathetically.

Dylan squeezed my hand under the table, much like he always had whenever his family put me on the spot.

I felt a pang in my chest, but Phoebe abruptly gasped. "Hold on… When did my bracelet crack?"

There was a fine crack on the emerald.

Phoebe shot me a frantic look. "Harper, you took my hand earlier…"

In an instant, all eyes were on me.

Sophia set her cutlery down. "Even if you're upset that I lent the bracelet to Phoebe, you can't destroy it!"

"I never touched the bracelet."

"Who else could it have been but you?"

Phoebe hurriedly intervened. "Don't be upset, Mrs. Smith. Harper just lost her baby. It's only natural for her to be in a bad mood."

With a single sentence, she pretended to absolve me while pinning the blame on me.

I looked at Dylan.

A shadow of exhaustion surfaced between his brows. "Harper, apologize to Grandma first."

"I didn't do it."

"Phoebe has no reason to injure her own wrist."

I suddenly remembered something from years ago, when a guest at a private club had accused me of stealing his watch, and everyone had wanted to pat me down.

Dylan had shielded me behind him and spent six whole hours reviewing the surveillance footage. In the end, he'd made the man kneel and apologize. "Harper's with me; she shouldn't have to endure such baseless accusations," he'd said.

But now, he hadn't even bothered to investigate.

Perhaps it was because, in his eyes, Phoebe shouldn't have to endure such accusations either. Meanwhile, I was already used to them.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Sophia urged coldly.

I looked at Dylan. He didn't avert his gaze, but he didn't take my side either.

Slowly, I rose from my seat and apologized to Mrs. Smith Senior. "I'm sorry for disrupting your family dinner."

Dylan's expression softened. "Harper has always been sensible. Let's leave this matter here."

He accompanied Phoebe to treat the scratch on her wrist. He completely missed how a dark red stain had already spread across the hem of my dress when I rose to my feet.

Halfway through the drive back, a sharp, unbearable pain flared in my lower abdomen. I doubled over and broke out into a cold sweat.

The driver caught sight of my pallid complexion in the rearview mirror and immediately turned the car around, rushing me to the hospital.

After stopping the bleeding, the doctor reprimanded me, "You just had surgery. Why did you stand on your feet for so long? Do you have no regard for your own health at all?"

Lying on the hospital bed, I was in so much pain I couldn't find my voice.

Dylan sent word through Sam that Phoebe's wound had become infected. Thus, he wouldn't come over tonight.

One by one, the lights outside the window went out. I flipped open the divorce agreement my lawyer had sent me and signed my name on the last page.

My departure date was set for seven days later—the anniversary of Mom's death.

Seven years ago, Dylan had spent 370 grand to give Mom another six months. Now, after accompanying him through the hardest seven years of his life and leaving our child behind in the fire, I'd repaid what I owed him.