Chapter 2
He hung up.
I listened to the busy tone as I typed in his birthday for the password.
The door unlocked.
The lilies I'd just put out yesterday were still sitting in the entryway.
On the coffee table in the living room, there was a cardboard box, already packed up.
I walked over and lifted the lid.
Inside was the wedding letter Arthur had written for me on our wedding day, and the bouquet I'd turned into dried flowers.
Just yesterday, I'd put them in the most prominent spot.
Now, all of it had been tucked away in a storage box.
I turned and headed into the master bedroom.
I pulled open the bottom drawer.
That was where the marriage certificate was kept.
On our wedding day, Arthur had given it to me, saying it was proof of our love.
I took it out and opened it.
Our names were printed inside, but there was no official stamp from the government.
It was just a keepsake, nothing more.
I used my fingernail to peel back the cover of the certificate.
A photo of Arthur and Chloe slipped out.
In the picture, Arthur was wearing a white shirt, his smile soft and easy.
Chloe was leaning on his shoulder, her smile bright and her eyes curved with joy.
I stared at that photo for what felt like forever.
Then I tucked it back into the cover and returned it to its place.
I opened the closet and pulled out my suitcase.
I folded a few clothes and packed them inside.
Just as I zipped up the suitcase, the doorbell rang.
I walked over and opened the door.
Chloe was standing outside, wearing a trench coat.
Behind her was a man in a suit and two workers in uniforms.
"Stella, I knew you'd be home," Chloe said with a sugary smile, her eyes drifting past me toward the inside of the house.
"What do you want?" I asked, standing firm in the doorway to block her path.
The man in the suit stepped forward and handed me his business card.
He said, "Hello, Ms. Kensington. I'm Ms. Bennett's personal attorney.
"This place belongs to Ms. Bennett. It's her property from the marriage, so she can redecorate or do whatever she wants with it.
"We'd appreciate your cooperation."
Chloe sighed, her eyes wide with innocent helplessness as she looked at me.
Chloe said, "Stella, don't take it the wrong way.
"I just feel like the place is a bit too chilly. I want to swap in some warmer-toned furniture.
"After all, this is Arthur and my home."
She deliberately stressed the words "Arthur and my home."
She added, "I don't mind using your stuff. Just move out of the master bedroom for me, alright?"
I looked at her, and suddenly, it all felt pointless.
"Don't bother," I said.
I moved out of the way. "I'm leaving."
Chloe's eyes sparkled with excitement as she started directing the workers to bring things in.
Just then, the elevator doors slid open.
Arthur strode out, his brows furrowed in a deep frown.
"Chloe, why are you here?" he asked, surprise clear in his voice as he approached her.
Chloe's eyes immediately welled up with tears as she clung to his sleeve.
She said, "Arthur, I just wanted to see our new home, but Stella seems really upset.
"Did I do something wrong?"
Arthur gently patted her hand, then turned toward me.
His gaze fell on my suitcase.
His expression grew grim as he asked, "Stella, are you really determined to leave our home?
"Didn't I tell you? The password's still the same. You can stay here whenever you want."
I looked at him, my voice calm.
"Your legal wife just showed up with her lawyer to take over the place. So what does that make me? Am I just your tenant, or the mistress you keep hidden away?" I said.
Arthur's face turned grim.
He grabbed my wrist, his grip tightening, but his thumb kept tracing slow circles over my pulse.
He said, "Stella, do you really have to put yourself down like this?
"I've told you, I love you. Giving her the official title doesn't change what we have.
"Chloe's been alone for so many years. I'm just worried she won't be able to handle all this."
He glanced at Chloe, who was still sobbing beside him, then looked back at me.
He said, "Stella, I'm not trying to cover for her. I just don't want us to have any more misunderstandings.
"Why don't you stay at a hotel for a few days?
"Once things calm down here, I'll come pick you up myself."
I looked down at his hand wrapped around my wrist.
His fingers were long and slender, knuckles standing out starkly against my skin.
That same hand had once held me so tightly at the airport, refusing to let go.
Back then, I'd just gotten my guaranteed admission to an Ivy League school.
In the middle of the crowd, his eyes were red as he looked at me and said, "Stella, stay. I'll give you a home."
And I stayed for him.