Chapter 2
In the end, I was the one who had to make the soup.
Edward's mother, Kathleen Pierce, wouldn't let Julie Warren do it. She stood in the kitchen doorway, her voice firm and not up for discussion.
Kathleen said, "You need to make the soup yourself. Watch the heat. Don't mess it up."
I kept quiet, tied on my apron, and slowly dropped the ingredients into the pot.
My phone was sitting on the counter, and the screen lit up for a moment.
Olivia's account had a new post. [Kind of hurt tonight, but whatever. I'll be fine after some sleep.]
Kathleen walked over with a bowl of dark, murky herbal brew and set it in front of me.
"Drink up," she ordered.
The fertility medicine tasted awful and smelled even worse, but I'd been forcing it down for almost half a year.
Without a word, I took the bowl, tipped my head back, and finished it in one gulp.
The bitterness coated the back of my tongue. I let my gaze drop and quietly placed the empty bowl back on the tray.
Memories bubbled up like water boiling in a pot.
When I was seven, my parents got divorced.
I didn't hesitate at all and chose to live with my dad.
My relatives said I was cold-hearted, like I'd ditched my mom.
But they had no clue that staying with my dad was the only way to make life hell for my stepmom and stepsister, and to help my mom take back the money that was hers, little by little.
The year I graduated from college, Kathleen tracked me down.
In a private room at some fancy club, she gave me a slow once-over, checking me out from head to toe.
She took a sip of coffee and said, slow and steady, "Ms. Jennings, I've looked into your background.
"You're talented, but you're still not up to my standards for a daughter-in-law.
"I didn't care if you and Edward are dating in college, but now that you're out, it's time to get real."
My family wasn't exactly poor, but compared to the Pierce family, we were nothing.
For someone as goal-driven as me, marrying into the Pierce family was supposed to be the ultimate win.
But with Kathleen's attitude, Edward wasn't the right match for me anymore.
Right then and there, I texted Edward and broke up with him.
He went crazy trying to find me, begging me to take him back, even falling out with his family.
The last time, he pushed me out of the way and got hit by a drunk driver. He spent three days in the ICU before he finally woke up.
The first thing he said when he woke up was to beg me for another chance.
At that moment, I was completely moved. I cried, held his hand, and agreed to give him another chance.
He risked his life for me, and in return, I became utterly devoted to him.
So, after we got married, even when Kathleen kept making things difficult and dropping hints about having a baby, I put up with it all for Edward's sake.
For over a year, right after graduation, I became a full-time housewife, focusing on helping him recover, and then on trying to get pregnant.
Everyone said, "If you want the big prize, you better be ready for the price." Having a tough mother-in-law was nothing, since I'd made it to the top and scored the jackpot.
I simply smiled and kept quiet.
Yeah, I wanted to level up through marriage, no denying that.
But it wasn't only about the perks.
I really thought what Edward and I had was true love.
It seemed I was overthinking it.
Whether it was my dad or Edward, it always ended the same way.
*****
Edward woke up the next morning.
He rubbed his temples as he stumbled out of the bedroom, caught sight of the calendar on the wall, and stood there for a few seconds. His face shifted.
"Grace, yesterday was our anniversary. Shit, I actually forgot," he muttered.
He hurried over, regret written all over his face as he took my hand.
"I'm sorry. I've been buried in work lately. My brain's a mess. Go on, yell at me," he said.
Then he ducked into the bedroom and came back holding a beautifully wrapped box, handing it to me with that hopeful, eager look.
"Don't be mad. Here's your gift. See if you like it," he said.
I unwrapped it and found a designer purse inside.
It was the exact one the model was showing off on the cover of that magazine.
I'd only lingered on it for a few seconds while flipping through the magazine, but Edward actually picked up on it.
Edward cleared his whole schedule for the day and took me out to that exclusive resort on the edge of the city, the kind of place only members can get into.
The chef cooked everything to order, and the champagne was chilled to perfection.
After brunch, we strolled along the riverbank.
The sun was bright, and the breeze was gentle.
He held my hand, reminiscing about our early days together, laughing like a lovestruck college student.
For a moment, I almost believed that the pain from last night was nothing but a dream.
Then, around three in the afternoon, his phone buzzed.
He glanced down, his expression flickering for a second, then slipped his phone away like nothing happened.
"Grace, there's an emergency at work. I need to handle it. I'll drop you off at home and be back before dinner," he said.
I nodded without betraying any emotion.
About half an hour later, Olivia posted a photo.
It was the same purse, but in a different color, sitting neatly on the coffee table.
The caption was only four words: [All forgiven now.]
I stared at the photo for a couple of seconds.
Then I got up, walked into the walk-in closet, pulled out the purse Edward had given me that morning, and carelessly tossed it onto the bottom shelf of the cabinet.