Chapter 4

"You're really leaving?" Laura called out.

I ignored her.

She set down her spoon and said slowly, "Honestly, you're more patient than I thought. I figured you'd lose it the very first day Phillip brought me back."

I finally stopped and turned to face her.

"Are you really that pleased with yourself?" I asked.

She replied with a soft laugh, "Of course. I mean, someone spent three years as Mrs. Archer, but in the end, couldn't even hold onto the master bedroom."

I looked at her and suddenly laughed.

"Laura, do you really think you've won?" I asked.

Laura arched her eyebrow, a hint of smugness in her voice. "What else could it be?"

I said, "You're so thrilled about taking someone else's husband. I honestly can't see what you're so proud of."

Her expression shifted instantly.

"Bella, stop pretending you're so noble. You know it. Phillip only married you because you remind him of me," she shot back.

I nodded. "Yes. So I never lost to you. I only lost to my own foolishness."

I dragged my suitcase toward the door.

As I passed her, I paused, my voice barely above a whisper.

I said, "Oh, and I've already cleared out the master bedroom. Stay there as long as you like. But don't get too full of yourself. After all, a so-called dream girl who kicks out someone else's wife is a homewrecker, hiding in the shadows."

Laura shot to her feet, her face flushed with anger. "Who are you calling the homewrecker?"

Bella turned back to her. "Come on, you know exactly who's the homewrecker here."

The sunlight outside was blinding.

I dragged my suitcase out, not looking back.

But I knew Phillip would come looking for me sooner or later.

Not because he couldn't bear to lose me. It was just that he was used to having me around.

The most ridiculous thing about people was how they confused being used to someone with actually having them.

Iris set me up in her rented apartment.

It wasn't big. It had two bedrooms and a living room, but the balcony was bright, and there were a few potted plants by the window.

Iris warmed up some mushroom soup for me, watched me take my medicine, and then practically pushed me back into bed.

"Focus on getting better first. Everything else can wait," she said.

I stared at the ceiling for a long time before finally asking softly, "Iris, am I really that much of a failure?"

Iris rolled her eyes at me. "No. The real idiot is the guy who can't tell a pearl from a piece of glass."

I forced a smile. "But it still hurts," I said.

"That's how it should be," Iris said, sitting at the edge of the bed, her tone unusually serious. "Bella, you didn't lose to Laura, and you didn't lose to Phillip. You lost to your own unwillingness to let go.

"You kept thinking, 'If I hold on a little longer, maybe he'll come back.' But the worst thing you can do in love is gamble your happiness on someone else's decency."

I closed my eyes, my nose tingling, tears threatening to fall.

Yeah. It wasn't like I found out I was similar to Laura. I'd known for ages.

Even before the wedding, I was already aware of it.

Back then, Phillip's grandmother, Darcy, was really fond of me. She said I was steady, knew how to behave, and could handle Phillip.

Phillip didn't object to the marriage, but he never showed much enthusiasm for it either.

At the engagement party, he'd had too much to drink and was slumped on the sofa in the lounge, eyes closed.

I brought Phillip a hangover remedy, and as I set the bowl down, I heard him murmur, "Laura."

I froze. That was when I knew.

But when he opened his eyes and saw it was me, he didn't say a word. He drank the soup in silence.

That kind of silence cut deeper than any excuse ever could.

I could've left right then, but I'd already fallen for Phillip.

I loved how he always kept his cool at work, the way he'd let his guard down and show his tiredness when he spaced out, and even how he'd still manage a polite "thank you" when he was wasted.

I figured because someone else had a place in his heart, maybe there was still space for me.

So I acted like I didn't know a thing and married Phillip anyway.

Now that I think about it, I was really dumb.

On the third day, Phillip showed up.

When he arrived, I'd finished my medicine and was sitting on the balcony, zoning out.

The doorbell rang, and Iris peeked through the peephole. Her face immediately darkened.

"That asshole's here," Iris muttered.

I didn't move.

When Iris opened the door, her tone was sharp. "Mr. Archer, this isn't your place."

Phillip was dressed in a black shirt, looking like he hadn't slept a wink. There was a faint shadow of stubble on his chin, and he stood in the narrow doorway, completely out of place in this tiny apartment.

"I'm here for Bella," he said.

Iris snapped, "She doesn't want to see you."

"Move," Phillip ordered.

"And why should I?" Iris shot back.

Seeing the two of them about to clash, I got up and walked over.

"Iris, let him in," I said.

Iris shot Phillip a fierce glare, but with obvious reluctance, she stepped aside.

The moment Phillip stepped inside, his gaze locked right onto me.

I was in the most basic cotton pajamas, my hair thrown up carelessly, and my face was still pale. I looked worn out and fragile.