Chapter 5

The Sinclair family's family dinner was held at their luxurious villa halfway up the mountain.

In my previous life, every time I set foot in this place, it was hell for me.

Andrew's mother, Patricia Childe, was a high-society lady born into privilege. She never hid her contempt for me, who was just a girl from a regular family.

Whether on purpose or not, she was always flaunting her connections, her taste, and the perfect, well-bred heiresses she thought were suitable for Andrew, all right in front of me.

And Andrew? He'd just sit there in silence, letting his mom tear me down with her words.

Every time, I'd hold back tears, force a smile, and try to please her, hoping for her approval.

But it only made her despise me more.

This time, the car came to a smooth stop outside the villa.

Andrew got out and, as usual, went to open the door for me.

But I was quicker, stepping out by myself.

"Let's go," I said, smoothing my dress and wearing a calm smile.

Andrew looked at me, his expression complicated.

Today, I wore a sleek, minimalist black gown and subtle makeup. My whole demeanor was composed and aloof.

Gone was the anxious, eager-to-please attitude I used to have.

As we walked into the living room, Patricia sat primly on the sofa, having coffee with a woman dripping in jewels.

She barely glanced at me when we entered, not even bothering to lift her eyelids.

"You're here," she said coolly.

The other woman sized me up with obvious curiosity, her eyes sharp and a little critical.

"Patricia, so this is Andrew's girlfriend? She is quite pretty," the woman commented.

"So what if she's pretty? With her background, she's not even fit to be seen in public. I'd be embarrassed to take her anywhere," Patricia sneered.

Her words stung just as much as they had in my previous life.

Back then, I would've turned ghostly pale, not knowing what to do with myself.

But now, I just smiled.

I walked up to them, steady and unflinching. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Sinclair, Mrs. Lawrence."

Patricia was a little surprised by how calm I was.

She frowned, about to throw another jab.

But I spoke first.

I cut in, "You're right, Mrs. Sinclair."

Everyone in the room, even Andrew, was taken aback by my words.

I looked Patricia straight in the eye, speaking calmly, "You're right. My background really doesn't measure up to Andrew's. I know I've probably caused trouble for your family over the years."

Patricia was thrown off by the way I admitted it so openly.

All the sharp words she'd been ready to throw at me got stuck in her throat.

"Well... at least you know that," she blurted out after a moment of awkward silence.

"I've always known," I continued. "That's why I've tried so hard to be someone worthy of Andrew. But now I see. Some things just can't be changed, no matter how much effort you put in."

I turned to Andrew, my gaze carrying just the right touch of sadness and determination.

"Andrew, maybe your mom's right. Maybe we really aren't meant to be," I said.

"Janet!" Andrew's face darkened instantly.

He rushed over and grabbed my wrist, his voice low and edged with anger.

"What nonsense are you saying?" he said.

I didn't look at him. I kept my gaze on Patricia.

"Mrs. Sinclair, I'm sorry. I don't think I should stay here today," I said.

I freed myself from Andrew's grip and headed straight for the door.

I walked out, decisive and without a second thought.

The whole living room was so quiet that they could hear a pin drop.

Patricia and that lady gaped at my retreating figure, utterly speechless.

They'd probably never witnessed a woman dare to be so brazen at a Sinclair family dinner.

"Stop right there!" Andrew's voice thundered from behind me.

He caught up in a few quick strides and grabbed my wrist again, his grip so tight that it felt like he might crush my bones.

"Janet, are you done making a scene?" he snapped.

He yanked me back into the living room, his voice low and sharp as he growled at me in front of his mother and that lady.

I looked up and locked eyes with his angry stare, tears instantly pooling in my eyes.

"Am I the one making a scene?" I said, my voice shaking with hurt. "Andrew, is that all my dignity and pain are to you, just me making a scene?

"I just wanted your mother to show me the most basic respect. Is that so wrong?

"I just don't want to be made a fool of in front of everyone, to be judged all the time. Is that really so wrong?"

All my words were soaked in heartbreak.

Andrew's face kept shifting between pale and flushed, unable to hide his turmoil.

He opened his mouth to argue, but couldn't find the words.

Because everything I said was the truth.

He'd always just stood by and let his mom hurt me.

"Andrew!" Patricia finally snapped out of it, leaping to her feet and pointing at me, her whole body shaking with fury.

"Just look at her. Look at that attitude. She hasn't even married you, and she's already acting like she owns the place!"

"Mom!" For once, Andrew's voice was edged with impatience.

He turned to Patricia, his brows knitted in frustration.

"Can you please just give it a rest?" he snapped.

Patricia was stunned. She'd never been defied by her son before. But then her anger only burned hotter.

"Alright, Andrew. Now that you have that woman, you're forgetting your own mother? You're actually yelling at me for the sake of someone so beneath us she can't even show her face in public?" she shrieked.

The living room instantly erupted into chaos.

I stood right in the middle of the storm, just coldly watching the drama unfold.

Andrew was caught between me and his mom, not knowing what to do, totally stressed out.

And honestly? It was oddly satisfying.

Back then, I was the only one who had to suffer through this.

Now, it was his turn to feel the pain I'd always carried alone.