Chapter 2

"How much would it take for me to keep you? Just name your price," I said.

For a woman like me, no longer young or beautiful, money was all I had left to bargain with.

Edgar stared at me for a long time before finally replying, "Not much. Just feed me three meals a day."

In the end, I handed Edgar a bank card. Every month, I'd transfer sixty thousand dollars into it.

While Vincent spent every night with Jessica, I was left alone in this villa.

I hated Vincent so much that it was only through this kind of revenge that I could find any release for my wounded heart.

Edgar was always well-behaved, doing whatever I asked without complaint.

He loved my eyes, always tracing his fingers gently over them, whispering the same words again and again, "You're so beautiful. I really like you."

Edgar was undeniably perfect. The admiration and affection from someone so young gave me a fleeting sense of redemption from the self-doubt and pain Vincent had left me with.

Age had caught up with me, and all I left was money.

But Edgar called me beautiful. He seemed blind to the wrinkles at the corners of my eyes, loving only what he saw. The way he looked at me was so convincing, I'd never suspect he was just acting.

I once asked Edgar, "Did you ever get any professional training?"

He chuckled, his fingers tracing from my eyes down to my chin. "I don't need training to like you."

He really played his part well.

So later, that card started getting one hundred thousand dollars every month.

I kept Edgar around for three years. There were times I even wondered if I could just keep doing this forever, the way Vincent kept Jessica by his side for five whole years.

He never got bored with her.

I kept thinking back to our fifth year together. That was the year I lost our baby. I was choking down bitter herbal medicine every day, desperate for us to have a child together.

But Vincent started getting more and more distant, barely even caring anymore.

I couldn't see any love in his eyes anymore. Even when he bothered, it felt forced, like he was just pretending.

Vincent would always say to me, "Helena, I'm just too tired from work. All I want is to get some sleep."

He'd say, "Helena, stop making a fuss. Even if I try, you're never going to get pregnant."

He kept repeating how tired he was, how I'd never get pregnant, until all I felt was anxiety and guilt, day after day.

But in the end, it was all just an act. Just excuses.

Vincent wasn't exhausted from work. He was exhausted from being with Jessica. It wasn't my infertility that kept him away. It was Jessica.

How much stamina did a thirty-two-year-old guy really have, juggling two women at the same time?

My thoughts started to drift, and I closed my eyes, feeling completely worn out.

Edgar, always thoughtful, began massaging my head, working out the knots in my nerves bit by bit.

As I slowly relaxed, I told him, "Edgar, maybe you should get yourself a girlfriend."

His hands froze for a second, his breathing deepening. Then he started up again, doing his best to stay calm.

"Why?" he asked.

I replied, "You should go back to living a normal life."

"Are you sick of me?" Edgar asked. He sounded like he was gritting his teeth, unwilling to accept it, but his hands kept massaging my head, gentle as always.

He always knew how to look after me.

"What did I do wrong?" he asked.

I told him, "I'm married."

Edgar shot back, "He's a total jerk."

"But he's still my husband." I met his eyes, my tone serious. "Edgar, I need to go back and be a wife again."

Edgar finally stopped, pulling me upright and glaring at me, his voice brimming with anger. "Did you forget there's another woman in that so-called family of yours?"

It had been three years.

From the initial hatred, I stopped caring anymore. "I'll always have a way to handle her," I said.

I added, "I can't let my husband find out about you. It's going to mess up my marriage."

Edgar finally snapped, "Helena, you'll regret this, mark my words."

This was the first time he had ever raised his voice at me.

After Edgar left, I had the front door replaced, cleared out everything inside, and rented the place out to a young couple for a hefty price.

*****

Vincent had been in a great mood these past few days. He kept coming home, even bringing me little gifts every now and then.

Sometimes it was my favorite skincare products, sometimes it was the snacks I loved, and sometimes it was just a bouquet of flowers.

He ate the food I cooked for him, looking totally satisfied, and couldn't help but praise me. "Helena, no one's ever been as attentive and sweet as you."