Chapter 2

David called me right away. I didn't pick up.

He switched to a voice message, his voice barely holding back his temper. "Emily, what do you want from me?

"Sophie was seriously sick. I let her stay in the master bedroom for one night. How is that such a big deal? You know it's been over between me and her for ages."

I muted the voice message.

Earlier that afternoon, after I left the real estate office, Alex had reminded me to get clear on the property ownership and the loan situation.

We also needed to figure out how to handle splitting the mortgage payments we had made together while married, so there wouldn't be any trouble when it was time to sign the papers.

I bought this house before we got married.

The down payment and most of the renovation costs came from the money I saved up over the years working as a designer. The mortgage has always been paid straight out of my paycheck.

After we got married, David would send me a monthly allowance, but the amount was never set. It covered stuff like household bills, car insurance, and the occasional hospital bill for his parents. If we really wanted to, we could break it all down.

I wasn't afraid to settle the accounts.

What I was really afraid of was that some people thought my compromises meant I was okay with it.

At nine the next morning, I took a half-day off and went to the property registry office to get a copy of the property records.

The clerk checked my documents and handed me the paper. "Sole owner: Emily York."

The paper was thin, but it felt heavy in my hand.

I snapped a photo of the property records and sent it to Alex, then double-checked the listing price and the times for the house showings.

Alex asked, "Ms. York, is your husband on board with this?"

I glanced at the dozens of messages David had sent me last night and replied, "No need to contact him. All showings go through me."

At 10:30 am, David showed up at the property registry office.

He looked like he had rushed over. His shirt collar was unbuttoned, and his hair was all over the place.

When he spotted me, his gaze zeroed in on the folder I was holding.

"You're actually here to check the property records?" David asked, disbelief in his voice.

"Yeah," I replied.

He let out a heavy breath. "Are you seriously worried I'd try to take the house from you?"

I zipped up the folder. "I need it for the listing."

When he heard that, his brows furrowed. He said, "Didn't I make myself clear yesterday? Sophie was supposed to leave today. You really don't have to do all this."

"She's gone?" I asked.

David paused for a moment.

That pause said it all.

He avoided my eyes. "Her fever hasn't gone down yet. The doctor said she should take it easy for a couple more days."

I walked around him and headed for the parking lot.

David caught up and grabbed my wrist. "Emily, why do you always have to think the worst? She was alone at the hotel, nobody to take care of her.

"What if something happened? All I wanted was to give her somewhere safe to crash for a bit."

I glanced down at his hand gripping my wrist.

He noticed where I was looking and loosened his grip, letting go slowly.

A red mark lingered on my wrist where he had grabbed me.

"Last night, you said she'd only stay for one night," I said.

David started to say something, but the words wouldn't come.

I kept walking, not looking back.

David walked beside me, his tone softening. "I'll have her move to the guest room today, and I'll give you back the master bedroom. Take the listing down, and let's go home and talk this out."

"Oh, so now you're giving me back the master bedroom?" I echoed.

He stopped in his tracks.

I turned my head to look at him.

It was like he finally realized how cutting those words were, and for a moment, the impatience on his face slipped.

Then, David's phone rang. He glanced at the screen and picked up right away. "Hey, you're up? How's your fever?"

Even over the phone, I could hear Sophie's voice, soft and fragile. "Am I being a bother? If you're busy, I can go to the hospital on my own."

David's brows knitted. "Don't move, I'll be home soon."

It was only after he hung up that he realized I was standing right there.

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds.

I pulled open the car door.

David grabbed the edge of the door. "Emily, wait for me to get home tonight. Let's talk this out properly."

I slid into the driver's seat and buckled up. "There's a house showing at two this afternoon."

David's expression shifted. "Sophie's still there."

I replied, "Then have her leave."

David said, "She's sick."

I turned the key, and the car gave a gentle rumble.

David's hand was still pressed against the car door.

I looked at him. "If you're sick, you should be seeing a doctor, staying at a hotel, or getting help from your family or friends."

He stared at me, and for the first time, there was something unfamiliar in his eyes.

Maybe in his mind, I had never been this direct with him before.

We were married for three years, and we didn't fight much. Most of the time, if he softened his tone even a little, I would be the first to back down.

There were too many things in a marriage you couldn't keep track of, and I never liked keeping score of every little thing.

But this time, everything was laid out in black and white.

One master bedroom, one nightgown, one bed, one ex-girlfriend.

Put it all together, and it was a boundary I couldn't let go.

At 2 pm, I didn't go home.

Alex brought the clients to the door and called me on video.

The camera shifted, and there was David, standing inside, looking pissed.

"It's not a good time today," he said.

Alex said politely, "Mr. Carter, Ms. York has already confirmed the time."

David's voice turned cold. "The place is still occupied."

I spoke up on the video call. "Open the door."

David looked at the screen, his eyes burning with anger. "Emily, do you really have to make a scene in front of strangers?"