Chapter 3
I was about to drive away when I saw someone standing in front of my car.
It was Dad.
We stared at each other for a long moment before I followed him into the house I'd lived in for eighteen years.
The living room looked the same, but everything felt different.
Every photo of me and Mom on the wall had been replaced by pictures of Emily and her mom.
Mom's favorite crabapple flowers had been swapped out for those nauseating roses.
I stood in the middle of the living room, feeling like I was in a stranger's house.
Dad pointed at the couch, and as soon as I sat down, he didn't waste any time.
"Leave Charles," he said.
"No way. It's Charles who can't let me go," I retorted.
Back when I found out Charles had Emily on WhatsApp, I felt so betrayed that I packed my bags and was ready to leave.
But he blocked the door, and without a second thought, he snatched the fruit knife from the coffee table and, in one swift motion, plunged it into his own stomach.
Blood gushed out, but he stood his ground, staring at me without flinching.
"You're not leaving unless I'm dead," he said.
Dad didn't say anything, gave me a look full of pity.
Then he pointed at the wall beside us.
It was a photo wall, covered in pictures.
All the photos were of Emily and Charles together.
There they were, snuggled up together in a gondola in Venice.
In another photo, they held hands beneath the cherry blossoms at Mount Fuji.
In another, they kissed beneath the Eiffel Tower.
"He was not on a business trip. He traveled around the world with Emily," Dad said.
He stood up, walked over to the wall, and pointed at the wedding photo right in the center.
"They got married overseas, threw a big wedding, and invited everyone they knew," Dad said.
"Even his parents showed up," he added.
"He spent seven days kneeling outside his parents' door, begging them to accept Em and come to their wedding," he continued.
"If I remember right, no one attended your wedding to Charles, did they?" Dad asked.
I opened my mouth to protest, but no sound escaped.
Charles's parents couldn't stand me. They thought I'd seduced their son, gotten him branded as a homewrecker, and ruined his reputation and future.
So on our wedding day, they didn't show up, and they wouldn't even let us visit their place.
But in the photos, his parents smiled warmly as Emily offered them champagne.
"I heard you got into a car accident a few days ago?" Dad asked.
"I didn't want Charles to worry, so I toughed it out myself and never told him," I replied.
Dad let out a mocking laugh.
"Do you even know where he was at that moment?" Dad asked.
"He was right nearby, keeping Em company while she picked out a diamond ring," Dad continued.
My head buzzed, and my mind went blank.
Dad said, "He saw the driver harass you, saw the man shove you down, saw you cry in the car, and saw them pound on your door while you called the police.
"He did nothing because Emily wanted bubble tea, and he hurried to buy it for her."
"I don't believe it." I blurted out, my voice shaking with anger.
I shot to my feet, shaking all over.
I can't believe the guy who'd freak out if I so much as scraped my knee would stand by and let me get hurt,' my heart pounding.
"You're making this up. You're saying all this to break me and Charles apart." I shouted.
Dad stared at me in silence.
That look in his eyes made me feel uneasy.
After a long silence, he finally spoke.
He said, "Emily is pregnant.
"The baby will be named Ethan."
Ethan, because all we ever wanted was for him to be safe and sound.
Something inside me snapped.
Charles and I spent a whole month poring over every name we could find, just to pick the perfect one.
That name was meant for our baby.
That name belonged to my child, and my child only.
"Nobody understands a man better than another man," Dad said.
Dad spoke up again.
"The only thing he feels for you now is a sense of duty. If you keep holding on like this, you'll wind up just like your mother," Dad said.
Mom.
When she found out Dad was cheating, she just wouldn't leave him, no matter what.
Dad even brought his mistress home, getting all lovey-dovey right in front of Mom. In the end, she couldn't handle the humiliation and ended up killing herself.
Am I really going to end up just like Mom, caught in an endless spiral of breakdowns, madness, and hurting each other over and over?' Fear twisting in my chest.
I didn't know. All I knew was that I was suddenly so tired.
I stopped paying attention to whatever Dad was saying, too drained to care anymore.
I pushed the door open and walked out.
The sunlight hit me, but I couldn't feel a single bit of warmth.