Chapter 4

I grabbed my purse and stood up to leave, but Alex snagged my wrist. "Lilianna, Julia went out of her way to invite you here to apologize. What is your problem?"

Julia lunged forward, grabbing my arm. Her sharp acrylics dug deep into my skin, drawing pain. "Please, Lilianna, I only want you to forgive me."

I wrenched my arm free. The sudden movement sent Julia stumbling back, right into a waiter carrying a pot of boiling stew.

The pot tipped, splashing scalding liquid over both of us.

"Ow! It burns. My arm!" Julia wailed, clutching her forearm.

She pointed to a barely noticeable red spot before bursting into tears and burying her face in Alex's chest.

Before I could react, Alex slapped me hard across the face.

"How can you be so vicious?" he snarled. "You did that on purpose! If she scars, you're going to pay for this."

He scooped Julia into his arms and stormed out of the restaurant, never once looking back at me.

My whole body was burning, and I finally broke down. Tears wouldn't stop streaming down my face.

*****

When I got home from the hospital, I scrolled through Julia's Instagram. She'd posted a picture of Alex gently dabbing ointment onto her arm like she was made of glass.

My phone buzzed. A WhatsApp notification popped up: [Apologize to Julia, and we can put this behind us.]

I ignored it, called in sick to work, and collapsed into bed, falling asleep right away.

*****

The slam of the door woke me. Alex and Julia were standing outside my room.

Alex's face twisted in anger the second he saw me. "You scalded Julia, and you can't be bothered to apologize? When did you become so vicious?

"She has nobody else. As my future wife, you should be looking out for her. And you're still giving me this silent treatment?"

When Julia heard Alex call me "his future wife," her smug expression faltered for a second.

"Alex, don't yell at Lilianna. It's my fault. I've taken up too much of your time. I'll leave," she said.

Alex grabbed her arm. "You're not going anywhere. This is your home. If someone needs to leave, it's her."

A cold ache settled in my chest.

I remembered the early days when we got into a screaming match. He stormed out to cool down, spending the night sitting outside the door.

The next day, when we made up, I asked why he didn't kick me out of the apartment like some men would do.

He pulled me into his arms, his eyes full of tenderness. "You stayed with me when I had nothing. I don't want you to lose out. Everything I build will be in your name. If we fight, I leave. Never you."

Five years. That was all it took for his promises to rot.

"Julia's apartment has some issues, so she's moving in with us for a while," Alex announced. "She isn't feeling well, so she's taking the master bedroom.

"Oh, and she wants your chowder tonight. Make some of that peach cobbler and chicken soup, too. Consider it your apology to her."

His stomach was always acting up, so I'd spend hours standing over a hot stove, burning my fingers to perfect recipes he could digest.

Now, he wanted me to use those hard-earned skills to play maid for his favorite girl.

He glanced at my swollen arm, but his eyes quickly darted away.

"That dead-end job of yours is a waste of time anyway. Go ahead and hand in your resignation. You can stay home and take care of the house, me, and Julia," he continued.

I felt a chill run through my whole body.

This was the man I'd given everything for, the one I'd stuck with through thick and thin.

And now, he saw me as nothing more than unpaid help to cater to his true priority.

I laughed. "Sure, I'll quit."

Alex raised his eyebrow, looking at me, caught off guard.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but Julia dragged him out the door.

"Fine, I'm taking Julia to check her arm again. Get the groceries done. Don't make her wait for dinner," Alex said.

I didn't bother replying. The moment the door clicked shut, I packed every single thing I owned, called a moving service, and had my boxes shipped away.

Every photo of Alex and me, every hollow gift he'd bought, all of it went straight into the trash chute.

By nightfall, the apartment was stripped bare of my existence.

I set my keys on the entryway table and walked out of the place I had called home for five years. I didn't look back.