Chapter 2

Arthur looked at me with pure disgust, sizing me up from head to toe.

He sneered, "Lorelai, you've really learned some tricks, huh? Trying to make me feel sorry for you by hurting yourself? You didn't hold back, did you? Even slapped a bandage on your head to play the victim."

I didn't say anything back. I just sat by the bed, stuffing my clothes into my suitcase.

There were just a few sets of clothes to change into—the only things I really owned after five years.

Arthur was momentarily surprised by my silence, then his anger quickly flared up.

He strode over and kicked my slippers aside.

"Speak up! What, lost your voice? Weren't you faking it over the phone yesterday, acting like you were dead?"

I tossed my last jacket into the suitcase and zipped it up, the zipper making a loud sound.

I stood up and stared at him, saying, "Once I'm done packing, I'll leave. The master bedroom will be all yours to give to Celeste."

Arthur froze in place.

His brows furrowed deeply, his eyes full of irritation and disbelief.

Back in the day, just hearing Celeste' name would've had me hurling whatever was in my hands at him, sobbing and asking him why.

But today, I didn't even raise my voice.

"What game are you playing now?" Arthur asked, squinting at me. "Trying to reel me in by acting distant?"

The sound of high heels clicking echoed from outside the door.

Celeste stepped in gracefully, wearing a white dress and looking delicate.

When she spotted the bandage on my forehead, she covered her mouth and let out a dramatic cry.

"Oh my, Lorelai, how did you end up with a bump on your forehead? Did you get so upset that Arthur didn't come home last night that you banged your head out of anger?" she asked.

She walked over and slipped her arm through Arthur's, shooting me a subtle, provocative glance.

"Lorelai, if you really have nowhere else to go, you can always crash in the maid's room downstairs. I don't mind at all. This house is huge. One more person won't make a difference."

Arthur looked at her, his gaze turning gentle.

He said, "Celeste really knows how to be considerate, not like some people who are so narrow-minded."

I gave a bitter smile. "Fine."

That one word stunned them both, leaving them speechless.

I turned around and grabbed the trash can from the bathroom vanity.

Inside were the couple's toothbrush cups we'd shared for three years.

With a sharp clatter, I swept them right into the trash without a second thought.

Then, I grabbed my suitcase, ignored them completely, and headed straight downstairs.

I pushed open the gloomy, musty maid's room at the corner of the stairs.

I picked up a broom, swept the floor, and set up the bed.

I didn't say a single thing the whole way through.

Arthur followed me downstairs, standing in the doorway, watching me hustle around as I worked.

"Lorelai, stop right there!" he shouted.

After hanging up the towel, I turned to face him, keeping my cool. "Is there something else, Mr. Jackson?"

That cold "Mr. Jackson" made his face freeze for a moment.

Arthur snapped, "What are you up to now? Not even asking me for living expenses? How are you planning to eat with your card cut off?"

I brushed the dust off my hands and said, "No need. Save your money for Ms. Perkins to buy bandages. She's so pampered, she probably needs an ambulance for even the tiniest scratch."

Arthur's jaw clenched, clearly pissed off.

He slammed his fist against the doorframe.

"Fine! You've got some backbone! Guess you finally woke up to reality. Just don't come crawling to my door in the middle of the night, whining for cash when you can't stand the pain anymore," he barked.

With that, he grabbed Celeste and marched upstairs. "Celeste, let's go. Don't waste your time on this lunatic."

There were five days left.

The maid's room had no windows—no light ever made it inside.

I sat on the edge of the bed, sipping water to ease the dull pain that wouldn't go away.

The door was left open, and Celeste strolled in with a plate of fruit in her hands.

She was wearing pink loungewear today, looking innocent as ever.

She said, "Lorelai, are you settling in here? Wow, it's really musty in this room."

She scrunched up her nose and fanned the air, her gaze sweeping the room before settling on a jewelry box sitting on the table.

Last year, for our anniversary, Arthur gave me just one gift—a sapphire necklace.

Back then, he told me, "Lorelai, your eyes are as bright as this sapphire."

Celeste walked over and reached for the box.

She said, "Should you even keep this, Lorelai? It's not like you're worthy enough to wear it anymore."

I gave her a frosty stare. "Put it down."

Celeste gave a wicked grin.

She strolled over to the trash can by the door and casually dropped the box.

"Oops." She covered her mouth, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Guess my hand slipped."

The box hit the trash can with a solid thunk.

She said, "Sorry, Lorelai. I hurt my hand slicing fruit last night, so I guess I can't hold things steady."