Chapter 3

"Come downstairs for a bit. Emily's not feeling well. I'm taking her out to get some medicine. Make her a bowl of ginger soup, and remember to take the ginger pieces out. Hurry up."

I listened to Vincent's voice message, a little dazed.

In the past, whenever I cooked something with ginger in it, he would scold me endlessly for it, saying that someone like me would be fired even if I were a live-in maid.

It turned out that he wasn't the one who couldn't eat ginger.

I tossed my phone aside, not planning to respond. But after a moment, I decided to go down and take a look anyway.

Vincent was gently massaging Emily's lower abdomen.

The second he saw me, his face darkened.

"Took you long enough. I asked you to come down, not drag your feet. I really don't know what you're even good for."

Emily reached out, placing her hand over his lips gently.

"Vince, don't say that. It was my fault for asking you to come here."

"Alright, enough. Emily needs you. Why are you still standing there? Go make the soup! If you're going to keep being so petty, then we'll cancel the wedding!"

He threw those words at me and walked out with Emily in his arms.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth, letting out a cold laugh.

"Well, canceling the wedding with a scumbag is a win for me."

After they were gone, I looked around the apartment.

Clothes were scattered all over the living room.

On the couch, there was a set of clearly used lingerie, still damp with visible stains.

I forced myself to suppress the nausea rising in my chest.

So, this was what Vincent meant by being busy with work.

He had indeed been busy, just not at the company, but in Emily's bed.

The entire place was decorated with luxury in mind.

Even the couch was a high-end designer piece, and the purse casually thrown on the table was from an international brand.

I still remember a few days ago, when I reminded Vincent our tenth anniversary was coming up, he assumed I was trying to ask for a gift.

He pointed his finger at me in annoyance. "Tenth year anniversary? Why do you still want to celebrate stuff like this? You're not young anymore. Just cook something at home and be done with it. Stop daydreaming. We're about to get married, so we need to save money. No one acts like you, you know?"

I wasn't young anymore, but both of us had come from our youth together.

As for Emily, she wasn't just young and beautiful, but she was also the one he had always wanted but could never have. She was his true love.

Quietly, I recorded everything in this place on video and backed it up to cloud storage.

Then, I went home and started packing my things.

I dated Vincent for ten years. Looking back, I didn't think he ever really gave me anything.

He said this apartment was to give me a "home", but it never belonged to me.

In the end, I left quietly.

All the clothes and jewelry were things I bought myself with my own money. Yet, he accused me of being materialistic.

Suddenly, it hit me. This relationship really wasn't worth it.

He prepared lavish, expensive gifts for Emily.

But when I packed up to leave, everything I took with me was something I had bought for myself.

Once my suitcase was packed, I messaged my childhood best friend, who was living abroad.

She called me back instantly.

Holding back my tears, I uttered, "Madison, I regret everything. I shouldn't have trusted him. I want to start over. I want to leave this place."

Madison Stewart cursed me out for a bit, then moved on to cursing Vincent.

I finally had an outlet to pour out all the pain I had been bottling up.

Back then, Madison used to scold me for being blinded by love. She told me I would regret it one day, but I just wouldn't listen.

I remembered the look in her eyes when she left for abroad—she was so angry and disappointed in me.

"I've booked you a flight. Pack your stuff and get over here."

With that, Madison hung up.

I stared at my phone, and tears finally spilled.

These ten years were finally coming to an end.