Chapter 3
I knew that person outside the door all too well.
Vivian Lloyd.
She wore a simple white dress, her long hair flowing over her shoulders. Her face bore an artfully cultivated pallor, radiating heartbreaking fragility.
Even after five years, she still possessed that time-defying beauty, like a painting coming to life.
When Vivian saw me, her face displayed a perfectly measured surprise that quickly melted into a sweet smile. Yet with a sharp gaze, she subtly sized up both me and this house.
Samuel stepped aside to let Vivian in, movements fluid but laced with unspoken caution.
It was like Vivian was some delicate treasure, and I was just a speck of unwanted dust on the floor.
The air was thick with a cloying and sweet perfume, mingling with the lingering milky scent in the living room to form a bizarre, almost mocking atmosphere.
Vivian's gaze swept the living room before settling on me, her smile gentle.
"Melissa, I'm so sorry to barge in like this," Vivian said.
Vivian's voice was soft, laced with a gentle apology, as if it truly were an innocent mistake.
Vivian said, "Samuel insisted on bringing me here to see where he 'used to' live."
Vivian paused, her eyes gliding over the paintings I'd carefully selected for the walls and the cushions I'd painstakingly sewn for the sofa, her voice laced with a hint of feigned sympathy.
Vivian said, "This decor doesn't quite seem like Samuel's style."
The place Samuel "used to" live.
Not Samuel's style.
Vivian's words felt like poison dipped in honey. Beneath that gentle speech lay a blatant declaration.
Vivian wanted to tell me that since she was back, I was out.
This was the home I'd poured five years of my heart into. I had infused every corner with my love and tried to weave warmth into the stark minimalism Samuel preferred.
Now, Samuel's loved one returned, and with just one casual remark, Vivian erased all my efforts and my very existence.
My stomach twisted violently, and my throat clenched shut.
I clutched the divorce papers, the edges cutting into my knuckles.
So I was the fool all along.
There they were, the lovey-dovey couple, inspecting the territory Vivian'd soon reclaim, while I just stood there like an awkward eyesore.
I must have looked awful, or maybe I'd just stayed silent for too long.
Vivian looked up at Samuel with timidity, like a frightened bunny.
Samuel immediately frowned and turned to me, his voice icy with an unyielding command.
"Vivian's health is fragile. Don't upset her," Samuel said in a low voice, but his words struck me like a whip.
My heart plummeted like I'd been thrown into an icy abyss.
Fragile health?
Who upset Vivian?
I hadn't said a word to Vivian yet.
Did my mere presence offend her?
Or in Samuel's eyes, was even my breathing wrong?
A chill shot up from my feet, spreading through my whole body until I was frozen stiff.
I forced a stiff smile. I wanted to say something, but my throat was so parched that no sound came out.
Samuel shielded Vivian.
Openly and brazenly.
Right in front of me, his wife.
In all these five years, had Samuel ever defended me like this? Not even once, not even just to save his own pathetic pride in front of others.
Never.
Not once.
So Samuel knew how to stand up for someone, but he didn't want to do that for me.
Vivian pretended not to notice the tension between us, or maybe she was actually relishing it.
Vivian walked a few steps forward, her eyes falling on the delicate glass ornament displayed on the entryway console.
I stumbled upon it in a designer boutique on my birthday last year and fell in love with it at first sight.
It was gleaming with iridescent hues, as if cradling a fragment of the starry sky.
I remember dropping hints to Samuel back then, but he barely glanced at it and dismissed it as "childish".
Eventually, I saved up some writing royalties and secretly bought it myself. Placed right here by the entrance, it became my little comfort, greeting me every morning and welcoming me home each night.
At this moment, Vivian extended her slender, manicured fingers, gently picked up the glass ornament, cradled it in her palm, and held it up to the light for close inspection.
Her movements were gentle, as if it were some priceless artifact.
"How exquisite," Vivian marveled, her voice dripping with exaggerated delight.
Then she turned to me, flashing a smile that was all sweetness and innocence.
"Samuel gave this to me," Vivian said.
My breath hitched.
What did she just say?
Vivian looked at me, a fleeting glimmer of barely perceptible smugness flashing in her eyes.
"He told me," Vivian said as she tilted her head slightly, her tone light and playful, as if sharing a sweet little secret, "this means I hold the one-and-only place in his heart."
The one-and-only place in his heart.
Samuel took something I cherished, the very thing he once mocked, and used it to declare that Vivian was the only one who mattered.
It was as if an invisible fist seized my heart and crushed it to pulp.
It hurt.
The pain was so overwhelming that I felt like I was about to faint.
My whole world just shattered.
Didn't Samuel call it childish?
Didn't Samuel dismiss it with disdain?
Why did Samuel give it to Vivian?
Why did Samuel fabricate such a ridiculous yet cruel lie?
Was this Samuel's way of telling me just how special Vivian was to him?
Or was Samuel just trying to show me how pathetic I was? He could so casually give away something I held dear to please another woman, and twist its meaning to wound me?
A sickening wave of nausea surged up uncontrollably from my stomach.
I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood.
I couldn't throw up.
Not here. Not in front of them.
That would be way too pathetic.
Like a sore loser going crazy.