Chapter 4
Claire gave me a warm smile and poured me some orange juice.
"Anna, Mike took me to watch the fireworks last night, but don't get the wrong idea. I got back and don't really know anyone yet, so I ended up bothering him," she said.
Irene served Claire a piece of fish.
"What do you mean, 'bothering'? You've lived with the Landon family for over ten years. This is your home. Of course Michael should be there for you," Irene said.
Claire lowered her head. "Irene, Anna's here. Please don't bring this up."
"So what if she is?"
She glanced at me, her voice neutral, almost indifferent.
"Anna's been married into this family for three years. She should know how things work by now. Claire, you and Michael grew up together, your bond runs deeper than someone who joined later. No one can argue with that," she said.
Someone who joined later.
Those three words felt like a needle in my ear, sharp and painful.
Michael never even glanced my way.
He was peeling shrimp for Claire, his head down, completely focused on her.
One after another, the shrimp shells piled up into a little mountain.
Claire's bowl was piled high with peeled shrimp.
She smiled and nudged her bowl. "Mike, that's enough. I can't eat any more."
But Michael kept peeling. "You used to love the drunken shrimp here at Riverside Manor."
"That was when I was fifteen," she replied, smiling as she tapped his hand. "I'm trying to lose weight now."
Michael chuckled. "Lose weight? You don't need to, you're not fat at all."
His laugh was soft and full of affection.
It had been three years since I'd seen him smile like that.
Irene watched them, her eyes full of satisfaction.
She set down her fork and suddenly spoke. "Claire, have you given any more thought to that marriage prospect? The Lewis boy from the Lewis family is a good match. If you say yes, I'll handle all the arrangements."
Claire's cheeks flushed. "Irene, I'm really not ready to get married yet."
"So how long do you plan to wait?"
Irene shook her head with a smile. "Girls shouldn't drag their feet. Wait too long, and you'll only get the ones nobody else wanted."
All of a sudden, Claire shot me a look and smiled.
Then she said, "I'm really not in a rush. Mike said he'd always be there for me."
Everyone at the table burst out laughing.
But I didn't laugh.
I looked down at my bowl.
It was empty.
Michael finally looked at me.
His gaze paused on my empty bowl for a second, then he used the serving fork to drop a piece of fish into it. "Eat some fish," Michael said.
I looked at the fish.
Three years ago, when I first came to the Landon family, Irene cooked steamed mandarin fish.
I ate half the fish, and ended up covered in a rash.
Michael took me to the hospital, and the doctor told me I was allergic to freshwater fish.
After that, freshwater fish was never served in the house again.
Until today.
I turned to him. "I can't eat fish, I'm allergic."
Michael's fork froze in midair.
Irene frowned. "Why are you being so picky? It's not going to kill you to have a little. Claire loves mandarin fish, so I had the kitchen make it for her. Don't spoil the atmosphere."
Claire spoke up softly, "I'm sorry, Anna. I asked Irene to make it. I had no idea you were allergic. Mike never mentioned anything about you before."
He had never mentioned anything about me before.
Three years of marriage, and he'd never once mentioned me to Claire.
Michael picked up the fish from my bowl. "Let me get you something else."
His tone was flat, like he was dealing with some trivial inconvenience.
I set down my fork. "I'm going to the restroom."
With that, I stood up.
I stood at the doorway, took a deep breath, and walked down the hallway.
At the end of the hall, two waiters were chatting quietly.
"That lady in the red dress in room 306, Mr. Landon brings her here every New Year's Eve, right?" one of them asked.
"Not just New Year's Eve. I heard last month he even booked the whole floor for her birthday," the other replied.
"So who's the other lady today? Mrs. Landon?" the one said.
"Yeah, I think so. But look at the seating, Irene's sitting by the door, while Claire's right next to the head of the table. It's obvious who's the real VIP here." the other replied.
My steps faltered at the corner.
Last month.
Last month, he told me he was going on a three-day business trip to Brookhaven.
I helped him pack at home, tucking all his clothes, underwear, cold medicine, and other must-haves neatly inside his suitcase.
The morning he left, I told him to be careful.
He mumbled a "yeah," never even looking up.
So he was actually at Riverside Manor.
He was celebrating her birthday.
All this time, "business trip" was his excuse, for three years straight.
When I came out of the restroom, Claire was waiting for me in the hallway.
She was leaning against the wall, holding a small red square bag in her hand.
When she saw me, she smiled, showing off her two cute little fangs.
"Anna, sorry about earlier," she said.
I looked at her. "Sorry about what?"