Chapter 2

That night five years ago was our forbidden topic.

Charles used to steer clear of it, but once he saw I didn't give a damn about his partying, he started tossing out little jabs, trying to get under my skin.

I didn't bite, so he backed off.

We headed home in silence, both of us with scraped foreheads, and went straight to our own rooms to sleep.

Lying in bed, I felt the ache from my wound wouldn't let up. I couldn't settle down.

The scene of Charles forcing that kiss on Sophie kept looping in my head, and I couldn't help but think of that night a year ago.

It was one of those endless nights where we froze each other out because Charles had come home late again.

Every time he showed up late, there'd be hickeys on his skin and the lingering scent of some strange perfume.

I'd lose it, dragging him under the shower and scrubbing him like mad, desperate to erase any trace of other women from him.

We'd fight, bite, scratch, and in the end, I'd be the one crying, begging him not to leave.

I was like a lunatic, punishing him all by myself, as if that could make up for how he'd hurt me.

Once was okay. After ten times, a hundred times... I'd lost the will to confront him anymore.

That night, when I saw the lipstick stain on his collar, I looked away, emotionless, then turned and went back to my room.

But he rushed over, slammed me against the wall, and demanded why I didn't say anything.

The exhaustion and coldness in my eyes seemed to really get to him.

After a brief moment of panic, he slammed the door and left abruptly.

In the end, I was the one worrying about his stomach, so I made some oatmeal and took it to his office.

But peering through the glass door of his office, I witnessed something that would haunt me forever.

All those fights before were me doubting him on my own. I convinced myself that I could put up with it as long as I never saw it for real.

But that night, reality crushed me completely.

Charles, who was always so gentle and restrained in romance, suddenly turned wild, like a beast.

The whole office was filled with a nauseating stench.

I stood there, frozen.

I watched them lose themselves in each other, then I saw Charles gently carry her off to the lounge.

After that wave of utter despair, I suddenly felt a strange sense of relief.

I couldn't bring myself to let go of the only one who ever made me feel alive back then, so I kept torturing myself for all these years.

But this time, it felt like I finally found a real reason to walk away for good.

As I was about to drift off, the pungent smell of antiseptic wafted through the air.

The slight sting at my wound pulled me out of my half-sleep.

I could guess who it was, but I really didn't want to deal with him. I stayed still, feigning sleep in the darkness.

Charles was grumbling as he applied medicine to my wound, "You weren't this hard-headed back in high school.

"Is it really that hard to admit you're wrong? If you're hurting, you totally deserve it."

After a while, I thought he was finally going to leave.

But instead, he rolled over and settled into the empty spot beside me, his breathing gradually becoming steady.

The faint neon glow outside cast deep shadows across his face, making his features look more profound.

There was a time when I absolutely adored the way Charles looked while he was asleep. It felt like he gave me all his trust and dependence.

But sadly, the Charles who was eighteen had already been completely used up by the Charles who was twenty-eight.

*****

When I woke up in the morning, he was already gone.

As I was about to get up, I heard Lydia's voice coming from the living room. Lydia Sterling was Charles's mom.

Back when I was still in love with him, I could put up with her constant digs and mean remarks, again and again.

But ever since Charles and I fell out, I don't have to walk on eggshells around Lydia anymore.

Not bothering to fix my messy hair, I walked out without a care and ran straight into Lydia's usual sharp tongue. "Did you do this to Charles's head?"

I shot back, unfazed, "Your precious son nearly got us both killed last night. I'm the one who saved him."

Lydia completely lost it. "You shameless tramp. I told you already. The Sterling family is set to marry into the Suttons, but you can't stop clinging to Charles, can you?

"I told him from the start you were after our money, but he wouldn't listen. Are you only satisfied if you ruin Charles?"

She'd humiliated me in public before, using money to trample on my dignity in front of everyone.

She stood there, looking down on me, watching me struggle. I was isolated and desperate to prove I wasn't with Charles for the money.

Then, she'd casually remark, "I'm trying to help you out, dear. Why are you getting so worked up?"

Since I didn't care anymore, she was the one who turned into a hysterical mess.

Unbothered, I strolled over to the fridge and poured myself a glass of water. "You keep calling me a gold-digger, so I might as well live up to it and cash in before we break up.

"Otherwise, after all these years of your trash talk, I'd be the one losing out."

About two weeks ago, she called to tell me the Sterling and Sutton families were about to tie the knot, waiting for me to freak out.

But I didn't get mad. Instead, I named my price.

Lydia's face twisted with rage. Her well-kept features couldn't hide how ugly she looked in that moment.

She said, "You asked for seven million dollars. After all these years with my son, do you think you're still worth that much?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "If I'm not worth that much, what about your son? As long as I don't leave, your son won't let go. You know that better than anyone, don't you?

"Or maybe I should sit down with your son and talk about what really went down that night five years ago?"

Her expression froze the second she heard that.

After all these years of trying to split Charles and me up, she knew every dirty move she made better than anyone.