Chapter 2

On the third day of the challenge, the Ashford family held a private dinner.

Camille’s mother sent me the address and asked me to bring the Ashford signet ring. By family tradition, it belonged to the person who married into the family. She had placed it in my hand on our wedding day.

I also knew she had never truly accepted me.

When Camille first brought me to the Ashford estate, her mother told the entire family that my background and career were not good enough for her daughter.

Camille held my hand and answered calmly.

“Rowan is the man I love. No one else gets to decide whom I marry.”

I once believed she would always stand beside me.

That evening, I carried the ring back to the estate, intending to return it.

Julian was already sitting in my usual place when I arrived. No seat had been prepared for me, so the housekeeper brought another chair and placed it at the far end of the table.

“Julian is experiencing Camille’s life as her husband,” her mother explained. “The family should participate in the game.”

Camille glanced at me and seemed to realize that no one had saved me a seat.

“We can talk privately after dinner,” she said.

She probably believed the seating arrangement would stop mattering once the challenge ended.

I sat at the end of the table without answering.

The menu had been adjusted for Julian. I was severely allergic to peanuts, yet peanut pastries still appeared at Ashford dinners. Camille used to remind the kitchen. Eventually, she began trusting me to avoid them myself.

Julian disliked cilantro, so no dish contained it whenever he visited.

He tasted the soup and set down his spoon.

“I think there’s cilantro in this.”

Camille immediately called the housekeeper.

“Please replace it. The smell makes him sick.”

Then she noticed the peanut pastry beside my plate.

“Don’t eat that. I’ll have them bring you something else.”

She remembered my allergy, but only after the food reached me. Julian’s preference had changed the entire menu before he arrived.

After dinner, Camille’s mother gathered everyone for a family photograph.

While the photographer adjusted the lights, she looked at my right hand.

“Take off the ring. Julian can wear it for the photograph so the picture matches the challenge.”

Julian protested that it would be inappropriate, although his attention remained fixed on the ring.

Camille came to me.

“It’s only one photograph. I’ll put it back on your hand myself.”

I said nothing.

She mistook my silence for permission and slowly removed the ring. It scraped across my knuckle, leaving the skin red.

Camille touched the mark with her thumb.

“Did that hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

She hesitated before placing the ring on Julian’s finger.

“Only for a few minutes.”

When the photographer arranged us, Julian stood beside Camille while her parents sat in front. I was positioned near the edge of the frame.

“Move closer together,” the photographer instructed.

Julian offered Camille his arm. She hesitated, then accepted it for the picture. When she looked back at me, her expression held expectation and reassurance.

She still believed I would cross the room, separate them, and prove that I cared.

Instead, I turned to her mother.

“You can keep the ring.”

Camille immediately released Julian’s arm.

“Rowan, I was going to return it after the picture.”

Her mother’s smile faded.

“Everyone is only participating in Camille’s game. There is no reason to make the family uncomfortable.”

I did not argue.

A relative who knew nothing about the challenge posted the photograph in the family group chat.

Finally, the whole family together.

Several relatives commented that Camille and Julian looked perfect beside each other. Someone asked whether they were planning a formal wedding.

Camille’s mother replied with a heart.

I stared at the family chat I had belonged to for seven years. I had remembered every birthday, chosen gifts for every holiday, and attended every dinner.

Then I quietly left the group.

Camille noticed within a minute.

I saw that you left the family chat.

I know you hate this game, but the photograph doesn’t change your place in my life. When the seven days are over, I’ll put everything back.

She believed I only needed reassurance.

She thought the key, the seat, and the ring could be returned after the game, and our marriage would continue exactly as before.

She did not know that I had stopped fighting for my place.

I was removing the last traces of myself from the Ashford family.