Chapter 3

The moment the elevator doors opened, I saw Duncan pulling Brooklyn into the stairwell.

I opened the camera on my phone and slipped it toward the gap where, in his hurry, he hadn't quite closed the door.

The girl's voice was thick with tears. "Mr. Gilbert, is she here to stake her claim?"

Duncan brushed light kisses over her tears and gave a soft laugh.

"What are you talking about? The claim was always hers."

"But she's already accepted that you have me. Don't worry so much."

Brooklyn's voice dropped lower.

"Once her baby's born, are you going to stop having time for me?"

He stroked her cheek. "Why worry about something that hasn't happened?"

The girl bowed her head, and the tears came in big, heavy drops.

"My little crybaby, I never said I was giving you up."

He sighed, drew her into his arms, and murmured to her softly.

Listening to his gentle voice through the door, I reached up and wiped the wetness from the corner of my eye.

I put my phone away, turned, and stepped into the elevator.

It was already eleven at night when Duncan got home.

He flicked on the light, and there I was, sitting on the couch, staring at nothing.

He came over and crouched down in front of me.

"Why are you sitting in the dark? Have you eaten?"

My eyes settled slowly on his face.

"No."

"When I'm not here, you don't even take care of yourself."

His tone was exasperated, and he gave the box in his hand a little shake.

"I brought a cake back. Come on, eat."

The concern in his eyes didn't look fake. I only shook my head.

"I don't want other people's leftovers."

Half an hour earlier, Florence had sent me a video and a screenshot.

At the cake shop downstairs from the office, Duncan was feeding a bite of dessert into Brooklyn's mouth.

The girl's eyes were red and swollen, but a smile lingered at the corner of her mouth.

The screenshot was a post she'd put up.

【The person who loves you won't let your bad mood carry into the next day.】

The photo was a four-square grid.

A selfie of her flashing a peace sign at the camera.

A staged shot of the dessert.

A photo at an amusement park.

A candid of him carrying several shopping bags.

He'd stayed with her, coaxed her, right into the middle of the night.

And handed me a cake with the frosting caved in, just to be done with it.

"What's this fit about, out of nowhere?"

"Fine, don't eat it. Drink some milk and go to bed."

His voice went cold. He poured a glass of milk and walked into the bathroom.

"By the way, don't go to the office so much from now on. Brooklyn's sensitive. She reads into things."

I watched the bathroom door shut and let out a bitter laugh.

An eight-months-pregnant wife, and a mistress at his side day after day. Which one of them was really the sensitive one, reading into things.

After that day, I stopped going to the office.

But Florence's photos and videos never stopped.

He took her to every kind of business dinner, pushed her full-time hire through early, gave her an office of her own.

The old-timers had seen it all before. The newer ones talked.

Florence said that ever since I'd shown up that time, ever since everyone had seen my belly, the way they looked at Brooklyn had changed.

The gossip kept growing.

Until today, when coworkers were in the restroom discussing the jewelry set he'd given her, and ran into her coming out of a stall, her eyes red.

She bowed her head and hurried out, and behind her the mockery only got more brazen.

【I hear she gave that whole jewelry set back to Mr. Gilbert, untouched.】

I made no comment.

So what if she gave it back?

The Duncan who used to send me a check-in video wherever he went, who never let anyone but me sit in his passenger seat, was never coming back.

He came home from work that evening with a dark look on his face.

"Marianne, didn't I tell you to leave her alone? And yet you actually got those coworkers to freeze Brooklyn out."

I stared at him blankly. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play innocent. She gave back everything I got her, cried until her eyes swelled up."

His voice sank, edged with a faint, subtle disappointment.

"Marianne, I thought you were different from those women who are jealous down to the bone."

"She just graduated. She came to this city all alone with nothing to her name, nothing at all."

"And you don't even have to work, you want for nothing. Can't you give her a little room? What kind of thrill do you get out of bullying someone weaker than you?"

I laughed at the absurdity of it.

He'd told me with his own mouth that she was just a game to him. And now he'd already started aching for her.