Chapter 2
Then Leonard took Sloane's hand and left without looking back.
The door closed, leaving me alone with the mess scattered across the floor.
The next day, I became the maid of the house.
Patricia made me kneel on the floor, scrubbing inch by inch with a rag, claiming Sloane was allergic to dust.
Leonard acted like I didn't even exist. When I scrubbed right up to his feet, he didn't even bother to lift them.
Sloane lounged on the couch, munching on imported fruit and giving me orders.
"Stella, right there—you missed a spot. And over there. Scrub harder, or Leonard will be upset."
I gritted my teeth and kept my head down, silently scrubbing the floor.
Sweat dripped down my forehead, mixing with the dust on the floor.
At lunch, my body aching, I made a huge spread of dishes—all of Leonard's favorites.
After three years, I knew his favorite flavors like the back of my hand—I'd memorized them all.
But just as he picked up his fork, Sloane gave a delicate cough. "Leonard... I'm allergic to seafood."
Out of the whole table, half the dishes were seafood.
Leonard dropped his fork instantly, his face full of worry for her.
"Why didn't you say so earlier?" he demanded.
Then he spun around and yelled at me.
"Stella, did you do this on purpose? You knew Sloane was back, and you still made all this?"
I stood there, dumbfounded.
"I didn't know she was allergic..." I mumbled.
"You didn't know?" he snapped.
Patricia quickly jumped in, adding fuel to the fire.
"You must be jealous of Sloane, trying to hurt her on purpose."
Leonard shot me an icy glare, so cold it could freeze a river.
He picked up the plate of shrimp I had painfully peeled for him and dumped it into the trash without a second thought.
"Get out. Stop being an eyesore." he tossed in.
My heart, right along with that plate of shrimp, got thrown away in the trash.
That night, I lay in the small bed of the guest room, hungry and restless, tossing and turning.
From the master bedroom next door, I could hear Sloane and Leonard laughing together.
They were chatting happily about their time abroad, their shared interests—a world I could never be part of.
That was a world I could never belong to.
I had no idea how long I'd been lying there when the door finally swung open.
Leonard walked in, reeking of booze.
He stood by the bed, looming over me.
"You messed up today."
His voice was pure command—no room for argument.
"Tomorrow, apologize to Sloane."
I sat up, staring at the man I'd loved for three years. "And if I don't?"
He looked stunned for a second, then sneered.
"Stella, don't make me regret ever being kind to you.
"Don't forget who gave you everything you have.
"Without me, you'd still be rotting in that orphanage."
Every word felt like a knife to my heart.
To him, I was just a charity case, someone who needed his pity to survive.
He leaned down, grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.
His breath reeked of alcohol and a perfume I didn't recognize.
It was Sloane's scent.
He continued, "Apologize, or get out of this house."
Looking into his icy eyes, I suddenly felt exhausted.
Three years of marriage, and it was all just a bad joke.
I thought I could warm a stone, but it was just ice—cold and unchanging.
When I didn't respond, he let go of me in frustration.
"Tomorrow morning, I don't want to see your miserable face."
He turned and left, slamming the door so hard my ears rang.
I curled up in bed, unable to sleep the whole night.
Today was our wedding anniversary.
It was also the second-to-last day of the three-year promise my father made.
I got up early, put on some light makeup, and slipped into the first dress Leonard ever gave me.
I wanted to give our marriage one last try.
I booked a table at his favorite restaurant and prepared a gift.
But when I called him, he said he was in a meeting at the office and didn't have time.
I believed him.
I packed up a homemade meal and headed to Shaw Group.
The receptionist recognized me and greeted me with a smile.
"Mrs. Shaw, are you here to bring Mr. Shaw lunch?" she asked.
I nodded and walked toward the executive elevator.
But as I approached the elevator, I overheard a few employees whispering.
"Did you hear? Mr. Shaw reserved the whole rooftop revolving restaurant today to throw a welcome party for Miss Sutton."