Chapter 2

"Charlie, come here. If she wants to leave, let her. She's the one making a scene. You have nothing to apologize for," Edward said.

Though his tone carried a hint of reproach, he kept his voice low, like he was afraid even a gentle scolding might hurt Charlie.

I had never experienced such blatant favoritism with him.

All I had was the title of his girlfriend.

But Charlotte had all of Edward's love and devotion.

He remembered Charlotte's sensitive stomach and watched everything she ate and drank like a hawk.

Even at the Foster residence, he wouldn't allow anything cold or icy in the kitchen.

To keep her comfortable, I couldn't even have a glass of iced latte in the summer.

Edward said if Charlotte saw it, she'd want some, but her stomach couldn't handle it.

Whenever we went out, Charlotte always got the passenger seat—she'd get carsick if she sat in the back.

When I pointed out that the passenger seat should be for the girlfriend, Edward would always reply indifferently, "The passenger seat is for the secretary."

Back then, I was so naive. I thought he was joking around to make me happy.

But then, Charlotte put on the wedding dress I'd been longing for all this time.

Finally, I had to face the truth. Edward had given all his special treatment to Charlie, and all I ever got from him were empty excuses.

I stood outside the wedding dress shop, unsure where to go. So I just wandered down the street alone.

A low-key black Maybach cruised past. Through the half-open back window, I saw Charlie's eyes sparkling with joy.

Her cheerful laughter floated out through the gap, weaving a tight web around every piece of my broken heart.

For Edward, my heart had ached and trembled night after night.

But now, it felt nothing at all.

Finally, I felt a sense of relief from this relationship.

*****

By the time I got home, it was already late at night. The place was completely empty.

After charging my phone, I checked and saw zero messages or calls. I couldn't help but let out a sarcastic chuckle.

Suddenly, an email popped up. I opened it and saw it was an invitation to an international exchange.

I'd been offered this opportunity last year but passed on it because I was planning to marry Edward.

If I'd accepted, I'd have had to move abroad for work.

When my advisor found out, he was so mad, he smashed two mugs right there in his office.

He, a professor with forty years of teaching, lost all composure, yelling at me, "Are you out of your mind?

"You think giving up your career for a man will make him grateful? He'll just think you're worthless and look down on you even more."

Even so, I hadn't woken up.

But this time, I didn't hesitate.

I accepted the invitation without a second thought.

But after a whole year, getting back in was definitely not going to be a walk in the park.

I decided to hit the books again and get myself ready for life overseas.

However, when I walked into the study, I found all my textbooks and work materials had vanished from the shelves.

Instead, there were plush toys and random literary magazines scattered around.

That plushie was the one Edward won for Charlie the first time he ever tried the claw machine.

Now, he just left it there, in the home that was supposed to belong to us.

Suddenly, the study door swung open, and Edward walked in.

Seeing the plushie in my hand, he frowned, "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for a couple of books," I said.

Edward's frown deepened. He stared at me, confused. "Where are your books here?"

I kept silent.

I knew why he was puzzled.

If this had happened before today, I would've made a fuss about putting my books back in here.

If he didn't agree, I'd fake being mad, throw a little tantrum, and refuse to let him sleep until he finally got fed up and gave in.

Now, he looked distracted, clearly thinking about something.

After a while, he started, "After you left, Charlie realized she hadn't had her check-up yet, so I took her this afternoon. Then tonight, she dragged me out for—"

"You don't need to explain. Just get some rest," I cut him off.

Just as I was about to pull open the door, Edward grabbed my wrist.

"Are you still mad about what happened today?" he asked. "If you don't want that wedding dress, we can get you a new—"

I shook my head and said, "I'm not mad."

This was the second time I'd ever interrupted him, something I'd never done before.

Even when he was spouting drunken nonsense, I'd always listen intently and happily respond.

"What's wrong with you?" Edward asked, holding on to my wrist even tighter.

That familiar puzzled look showed up on his face again.

"I'm fine, just tired," I smiled. "Why are you so nervous? Did you do something you shouldn't have? Feeling guilty?"

I slowly raised my hand, and he tilted his head, thinking I was about to caress him.

But instead, I picked a long chestnut hair off his shoulder.

I smiled, looking at him calmly.

"How many times do I have to tell you? It's not like that between me and Charlie," Edward insisted.

"Did I say it was her?" I shot back.

Edward pressed his lips together. Abruptly, he let go of my wrist and snatched his suit jacket off the couch.

"Go cool off for a bit," he snapped.