Chapter 3
Cordelia quickly became a constant topic of conversation between father and son.
One day she wasn't feeling well, so Grant drove across town to buy her plain soup.
The next day she needed a location for her studio, so he pulled strings to secure the best retail space in the city.
The day after that, her ex-husband was giving her trouble over asset division, so Grant hired the most expensive legal team money could buy.
Lance posted on his social media, [My dad finally living the life he wanted.]
The photo showed Grant opening a car door for Cordelia's silhouette.
I came across that post while I was in the back kitchen making savory rice balls.
One of the girls working at the shop was fuming.
"Cordelia, your ex-husband is seriously out of line, isn't he?"
I just smiled and kept wrapping the filling. "Let him keep busy.
"Once he's done with all this, he'll find out what it feels like when the dream ends."
Honestly, I knew better than anyone that Cordelia didn't actually want Grant.
She was just a master at exploiting a man's obsession.
When they were young, she thought he was too poor and married into wealth instead.
Now that she's divorced, she needs a good reputation, resources, and a presentable man willing to handle things for her.
And Grant just happens to check all those boxes.
One evening, Grant suddenly showed up at the shop.
He was dressed in a perfectly pressed cashmere coat, with Lance trailing behind him.
The place was packed, with customers filling the front area.
He watched me as I tied on my apron, took payments, weighed out orders, and greeted customers, his expression a mix of emotions.
He probably never imagined that my life would be this lively after I left him.
Grant spoke. "Serena, Cordelia's studio is opening next week.
"She says there's no need to make a scene about the past. Just show your face, and everyone can save face."
I handed the change to the customer, not even bothering to look up. "Honestly, I couldn't care less."
Lance's face fell right away.
"Mom, do you have to be so petty?
"Cordelia's trying to give you a way out, and you still won't take it."
That was when I finally looked at him.
"Lance, if I were truly petty, I would have stopped your father at the door the day he used the money from my mother's shop to start his company.
"Now I just don't want to put on a show for you all, and that's too much for you?"
The front room fell silent for a moment.
Grant's face darkened.
He stood there for a few seconds, then turned and walked out without a word.
I stayed away when Cordelia's studio had its grand opening.
But that night, Lance came looking for me.
He stormed in and slammed the table.
"Mom, you did that on purpose to embarrass Dad, didn't you?
"All those clients and partners were there today. Cordelia saved you a seat, and you couldn't even show your face."
I was busy checking the books, not even stopping my pen when he spoke.
"I don't owe her a thing," I replied.
"She took your husband, and you can talk that lightly?" He laughed bitterly. "You're just putting on a brave face."
I closed the ledger and looked up at him.
"If your dad wants to hang around her, that's his business.
"A man who can be snatched away by someone else is nothing but yesterday's leftovers at home.
"If you want to feel sorry for him, go ahead. But don't bring your temper into my shop."
He was left speechless, his face dark with anger.
He'd always hated when I reasoned with him like this, because whenever I stood my ground, he acted like I'd changed.
But I hadn't changed. They had.
From the day I poured all my energy into this family, they'd grown used to me bending, giving in, standing in one place cleaning up their messes.
The moment I stepped aside, they panicked.
Before Lance left, he tossed out one last jab.
"You'll regret this, Mom. When Dad really ends up with Cordelia, you won't have anywhere to come crawling back to."
I watched his furious retreat and almost laughed.
Last time around, I did nothing and still ended up dying miserably in a nursing home.
This time, I'd pulled myself out first. What was there to regret?
That night, for the first time in a long while, I thought back to the days before the divorce in my past life.
I remembered the way Grant looked at me, all those times he'd say, "Serena, don't push me," and my own pathetic obsession.
I had truly believed that twenty-seven years of marriage shouldn't lose to some youthful crush that never went anywhere.
Only later did I understand that marriage isn't about how many years you stack up.
If your heart was not in it, nothing else would ever line up.