Chapter 4

My friends always said I was too soft, and I'd just smile and say it was fine.

But at that moment, I truly loathed how weak I was.

I should've smashed whatever I was holding right into Sofia's face, then given Richard a hard slap across the face.

But all I could do was let the pain swallow me whole, overwhelmed by a crushing sense of emptiness.

We'd been together for six years, and I really thought Richard loved me.

But he only ever loved Sofia.

I gently slipped my hand out of Richard's grip, walked around them, and went back to the bedroom.

My suitcase, already packed, stood quietly by the door.

As I stepped out, Richard suddenly grabbed my arm.

"Where are you going? Why are you taking so much stuff?" Richard asked.

I turned back and gave him a faint smile.

"My company just sent me on a last-minute business trip. I'm in a hurry, so I won't be joining you two for dinner," I said.

Richard looked at the two huge suitcases I had with me, and for a moment, panic flashed across his face.

"Where exactly are you going? Are you trying to clear out the whole house?" he blurted out.

I felt a pang in my chest, and my eyes were brimming with tears as I looked at him.

"Do you want me to stay?" I asked softly.

Richard blurted out, "Of—"

But before he could finish, Sofia's voice rang out from inside the house.

"Richard, how about we go for paella tonight? After all those years abroad, it's the one dish I missed the most," Sofia called.

Richard froze, looking torn for a moment as indecision flickered across his face.

I watched him quietly, saying nothing.

Richard hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke up.

"Of course not, darling. Work's important. Take care out there," he said.

The pain in my chest was so intense, and I could barely breathe.

Suddenly, I found myself almost laughing at how ridiculous I was. Richard's feelings couldn't have been clearer, and yet I was still clinging to hope.

I nodded, and just as I was about to leave, I caught sight of a familiar figure.

My mom stood there, eyes red-rimmed, her whole expression aching for me.

She rushed over, grabbed my hand, and shielded me with her own body.

Richard froze for a moment, then his eyes shifted to someone behind me.

I suddenly noticed a tall man standing behind my mom.

He wore thin gold-rimmed glasses and gave me a gentle smile, but then his face hardened as he stared down Richard.

"And who's this guy?" Richard barked, his face darkening as he turned to me.

Richard's face was thunderous as he turned on me.

"So, is this your idea of a business trip?" he spat.

The man stepped up beside me, and the atmosphere instantly got heavy.

"Who are you talking about, bringing another woman home when you already have a fiancée?" he said, voice cold as ice.

Richard's face darkened suddenly as he reached out to grab me, trying to pull me back.

Just as I was about to dodge, I was pulled into a warm embrace.

Richard's jaw clenched, veins standing out in his neck as he watched me in someone else's arms. He balled his fists, about to throw a punch, but Sofia's voice from inside the house interrupted him.

"Rich, is she gone yet? I'm starving," Sofia called out, her voice whiny and clearly annoyed.

Her tone was petulant, full of impatience.

Richard froze, shooting me a cold, threatening glare.

"You better not make a scene, or you'll regret it more than you can imagine," he growled.

The man's voice was icy as he held me close.

"Relax, man. Soph and I will send you an invite to our wedding soon," he said.

After leaving Richard's house, my mom and I sat together in the back seat of the car.

Seeing how drained I was, the pain in her eyes grew even deeper.

She'd never really been on board with Richard and me being together.

"Marriage is all about finding someone who's your equal. He comes from a rich family, and we're just regular folks," she said.

"No one wants you to be happy more than I do, Soph. I just worry he won't treat you right in the long run," she added.

But after watching Richard care for me with unwavering devotion, year after year, my mom eventually warmed up to the idea of us getting married.

That night, I curled up in my mom's warm arms, being a little spoiled.

"Mom, you have to believe me. Rich isn't that kind of guy. He treats me so well," I insisted, clinging to my faith in him.

Mom just smiled helplessly and gave my nose a playful tweak.

"Remember, sweetheart, you can always count on me. No matter what happens, home will always be here for you," Mom said gently.

"And if the world ever gets you down, just come back home. I'll whip up your favorite chicken wings," she added, her voice full of warmth.