Chapter 3
By seven in the evening, Arthur was finally home from work.
Celeste hurried over, her eyes red, tears streaming down her face.
"Arthur... Is Lorelai still mad at me?" she asked.
Arthur frowned and wrapped his arm around her waist.
"What's wrong? Did she bully you?" he asked.
"No... I just saw that Lorelai's room was a mess and wanted to help her tidy up. She tossed her necklace on the table, and I accidentally bumped it. She snapped at me and even said I was picking through junk," Celeste whimpered.
Arthur's face darkened.
He strode over to the servant's room and kicked the door open.
"Lorelai, get out here!" he shouted.
The door slammed against the wall, knocking loose a shower of dust.
I set down my glass and walked out, my face blank.
He pointed at the trash can by the door, his voice booming with rage.
"Pick up the necklace and apologize to Celeste. If you don't even care about your own stuff, why are you taking it out on her?" he shouted.
I lowered my head and looked at the trash can.
The blue velvet box was now covered in grape skins Celeste had just spit out, purple juice seeping into the fabric and staining it.
"Pick it up!" Arthur roared.
Without even looking at him, I took out my phone and dialed Olivia Read.
"Olivia, come grab the trash on the first floor. Just toss it straight into the big garbage truck outside," I said.
Then I hung up.
Five minutes later, Olivia came over, looking anxious and almost tiptoeing, casting nervous glances at Arthur and then at me.
"Go ahead and dump it," I said, my voice cool.
Olivia didn't dare disobey. She grabbed the trash bag and walked out quickly, right in front of Arthur and Celeste.
Arthur was stunned.
Once he snapped out of it, he marched over and grabbed my wrist with a vice-like grip, like he was about to crush my bones.
"Have you lost your mind? That necklace is worth 1 million dollars! It was our anniversary present!" he shouted.
I didn't get mad. Instead, I let out a mocking laugh and jerked my hand away from him.
"I don't want anything filthy," I said.
I stared right into his eyes, making sure he caught every word.
I said, "Go ahead and keep it as your wedding fund. Hope you two live happily ever after and pop out a bunch of kids."
Arthur was struck by the look in my eyes and instinctively let go of my wrist.
He had never seen such a resolute, final expression from me.
There was no love, no hate—just emptiness.
I heard a ticking in my head.
Only three days left.
I dropped my gaze, staring at Arthur's legs—still strong and steady.
Three days left for him to stand.
He should make the most of it. Soon, even if he wanted to stand, he wouldn't be able to.
"*****
Only two days left."
A bunch of uninvited guests showed up at the house.
They were all Arthur's crew—the trust fund brats from Lorenzville.
"Well, well, isn't that the legendary Mrs. Jackson from back in the day?" Zaire Burns, with his bleached hair, sprawled out on the couch, swirling a glass of red wine and smirking at me as I mopped the floor.
"Damn, you've fallen all the way to being a housekeeper? Arthur, that's cold—even for you," he snickered.
Arthur sat at the head of the table, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. Smoke curled around him, making it hard to read his expression.
Celeste snuggled up to him, peeling a grape and feeding it to him.
"Oh, come on, guys, don't say that. Lorelai is just here to experience life. She says hard work is the most honorable thing," Celeste said.
Everyone burst out laughing.
"Well, since you're a housekeeper now, you'd better start acting like one," Zaire sneered.
Zaire propped his feet up on the coffee table and pointed at the dust on his shoes.
"Hey, Lorelai, get over here and wipe my shoes clean," he said.
I tightened my grip on the mop.
A faint ache pulsed in my bones—the final sting before the chains came off.
"Why are you just standing there?" Arthur cut in, his tone cold. "Didn't you hear the guest talking?"
I looked up at Arthur, the man I'd loved for five years.
He'd rather trample my dignity just to make Celeste look good in front of his buddies.
Arthur sneered, "What? Not willing to do it?"
He flicked his cigarette ash, the gesture casual but cruel.
"If you don't want to, then get out of the Jackson family. And pay me back for that 1 million dollar necklace," Arthur said coldly.
I set down the mop, picked up a rag, and walked over.
I crouched down.
Zaire grinned smugly, deliberately jiggling his foot.
"Wipe them carefully. These are limited edition—even if you sold yourself, you couldn't pay for them," he sneered.
I took the rag and wiped his shoes twice.
Then, all of a sudden, I swung the rag upward.
Dirty water mixed with dust smeared right across Zaire's face.
"Shit!" Zaire leapt to his feet. "You got a death wish or something?"
I stood up and threw the rag down on the floor.
"Oops, my hand slipped," I said, copying Celeste's voice.