Chapter 3

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened.

Giselle came out, wearing Joseph's loose T-shirt, the ends of her hair still damp.

When she saw what was happening, panic flickered across her face.

Her gaze landed on the takeout boxes in the trash can, and her eyes instantly rimmed with red.

"Eunice, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt you? I'll move out right away," Giselle choked out, her voice trembling with tears.

She reached out for her pink guitar, but her feet felt rooted to the floor. Her tearful eyes looked helplessly at Joseph.

What a pathetic little show. I didn't even bother to look anymore.

I took a step forward, grabbed the guitar by the neck, and picked up the whole case.

With Giselle staring at her in terror, I dragged it out of the study.

Then I tossed it onto the living room tiles with a loud bang. The crash echoed through the room.

Giselle flinched, tears streaming down her face as she ducked behind Joseph, clutching the hem of his shirt tightly.

Joseph's expression darkened. He protectively pulled her behind him.

Joseph's eyes were cold, staring at me like I was out of my mind.

He snapped, "Eunice, why are you acting crazy?"

"If Rosalina wants to come, she can just stay at a hotel. I'll pay for it. Is it really worth all this fuss?

"Making such a scene over something so petty. Do you even know how to act like a boss?"

A boss? I let out a cold, bitter laugh.

In his eyes, I was just an accessory, expected to keep up appearances for the sake of acting like a boss.

I spoke each word slowly, my voice cold and deliberate. "Joseph, this is a home, not a rehearsal studio or a shelter."

Joseph's voice went up an octave, like he'd been stung. "A home is supposed to be about understanding and support.

"Do you even know what art is? Have you ever understood what creators go through?

"We're not even on the same wavelength."

I watched him, acting all self-righteous, as if he was sacrificing everything for the sake of art.

Behind him, Giselle stood with tears shimmering in her eyes.

My anger was snuffed out in an instant. It felt like ice water had been poured right over me, chilling me to the bone.

I had no strength left to fight. That was right.

We were not on the same wavelength. Arguing was pointless now.

I looked away and said quietly, "You're right. There's really nothing left to talk about."

If my space could be trampled on without a second thought, then I'd leave this city for good. No need to tell anyone.

The air in the room felt suffocating, thick with tension.

Joseph raked his hand through his hair in frustration, then went to the front door to put on his shoes.

The pink guitar was still lying across the tiles, like a cheap plastic corpse.

I ignored it, crouched down, and straightened out the shoes Joseph had knocked over, one by one.

High heels, flats, sneakers. My shoes, his shoes. Each pair lined up, neatly divided.

It felt like I was carrying out some kind of farewell ritual, settling accounts before I left for good.

"What are you doing?" Joseph demanded, his voice simmering with anger and his movements stiff with frustration.

He probably couldn't stand seeing me just accept everything, so passive and resigned.

Suddenly, he seized my wrist, his grip vice-like. Then he hauled me up off the floor, rough and unrelenting.

"Stop it," I barked, my voice tight with anger.

Pain shot through my wrist, the pressure biting deep into my bones. I struggled to break free, but his grip was ironclad.

I lifted my eyes to meet his. My gaze stayed calm. "Let go," I said, steady.

Joseph was caught off guard, not expecting my reaction.

In that split second, I pulled my wrist free. "Who are you to control me?" I shot back, my voice cold.

I added, "I'm just putting things back where they belong. I don't want your chaos interfering with me."

He stared at me, his expression conflicted.

Maybe my indifference finally made him realize he'd gone too far because of Giselle.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. His tone finally softened, just a bit.

He said gently, "Fine, I'll watch the clock during rehearsals from now on."

His apology was way overdue. It was so flimsy, and it didn't mean a thing.

I lowered my eyes, avoiding his gaze. "I have to go to the hospital tomorrow. Mom's getting transferred.

"The lease on the old house is up, so I need to take care of that too."

I was just stating the facts. It was like I was giving a work report, completely devoid of emotion.

I continued, "No need to worry. I've got it covered."

Joseph paused for a moment. He seemed to suddenly remember he was my boyfriend.

"I'll come with you tomorrow," he offered, his voice gentler.

And just like that, he switched gears. "Can't you just put these trivial things aside? I've got a dinner tonight, and I want you there."

My heart went cold. My stuff was always just trivial to him.

My needs could always be put off, always given up on.

I was just an afterthought in his life, only there when he needed to fill a gap.

"No," I said, my voice flat and final. "I can take care of my family matters on my own."

Joseph's patience finally snapped. He took a deep breath, his tone sharp. "That dinner is crucial for the band's future.

"You're my girlfriend. It's your duty to show up and support me. Do you understand?"

It was all about self-interest, all calculated. He spoke as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Looking at his face, I suddenly felt like he was a stranger to me.

Just then, Joseph's phone rang. Giselle's name flashed on the screen.

He picked up instantly, his annoyance disappearing in a heartbeat.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked gently.

Even though the phone wasn't on speaker, Giselle's shaky, tear-filled voice leaked out loud enough for me to hear.

"Joseph... I'm at the bar. Someone's harassing me. I'm scared," she cried, her voice broken and trembling.

Joseph's face went pale in an instant.

The panic and frantic worry on his face were so genuine, so unfiltered. I'd never seen him like that before.

He replied urgently, "Don't be scared. Stay put. Send me your location."

With that, he hung up. He didn't spare me a single look, just snatched up his keys and rushed out.

He yanked the door open, and the night air swept in.

"Joseph," I called after him.

He stopped in his tracks. When he turned back, his eyes were filled with impatience.

"And tomorrow...?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Before I could even get the words out, Joseph cut me off, practically barking at me. "Giselle's about to get hurt, and you're still thinking about tomorrow?"

His tone shot up, harsh and almost screeching. "Eunice, can't you stop being so damn cold?"

Joseph closed the distance in a few angry strides, looming over me. His gaze was full of disappointment and blame.

He asked coldly, "Do you even have a heart? Can't you tell what really matters?"