Chapter 3

After calming Chloe down, Raymond glared at me, his eyes dark with resentment. "I know you're bitter that I married her behind your back to have this baby. If you want to take it out on someone, take it out on me! I should've told you earlier."

"But you can't hurt Chloe! Her health is fragile, and she's suffered enough."

"All she wanted was a chance to be a mother. What did she do wrong? Why should she take the brunt of your anger?"

He pointed an accusing finger at my face. "Apologize to Chloe. Right now!"

I fought to keep my body from shaking.

My voice was barely a whisper. "Then what did I do wrong?"

"What did I ever do to deserve this?"

Raymond met my bloodshot eyes and froze for a second.

"It's fine, Raymond. Even though I almost fell down the stairs..." Chloe sniffled, playing the martyr. "I don't blame Serena, and I don't need an apology. You two are still getting married. I don't want you fighting because of me."

Raymond sighed, gazing down at her with tender pity. "Chloe, you're always so considerate. It breaks my heart."

He turned back to me with eyes like ice. "At the end of the day, you're just jealous of her. You can't stand seeing her happy."

"Since Chloe spoke up for you, I'll let the apology slide this time."

"If you ever touch her again, I won't go easy on you."

He picked Chloe up in his arms, pausing to throw one last look of disgust my way. "You don't compare to your sister at all."

The quiet living room emptied out, leaving only me behind.

I stared blankly at the dead leaves drifting outside the window.

Eventually, I sank to the floor, buried my face in my hands, and let the sobs tear through me.

This was the last time.

The very last time I would ever cry for Raymond.

That afternoon, Raymond posted a nine-photo collage on his feed.

They were pictures of different corners of a beautifully decorated house.

His caption read: "Every room, every piece of furniture, and every little detail here was handpicked by me. I just want to give my baby a warm, safe home."

The comments were packed with congratulations.

[Congrats on the baby, Raymond!]

[Wait, Raymond and Serena are having a shotgun wedding? Awesome! Congrats!]

[Serena is so lucky to have a guy like you! Total husband material!]

[I wouldn't miss your wedding in three months for a million dollars!]

Just as the feed was overflowing with congratulations, Chloe dropped a comment.

[Everyone, please don't get the wrong idea. This isn't Raymond's marital home with Serena. It's my house.]

The comment section went dead silent.

I broke the awkward tension myself and typed:

[Three's a crowd. I'm out. Wishing you two the best.]

Without waiting to see their reactions, I blocked them both on Instagram.

Within minutes, an unknown number rang. It was Raymond.

"Serena, are you done throwing a tantrum?"

I answered coldly, "I'm not throwing a tantrum."

Raymond lost his temper. "What you posted on my feed basically dragged Chloe's name through the mud!"

"Are you satisfied now that you've painted her as a homewrecker?"

"If you keep slandering her, we're not getting married!"

Listening to his harsh, heartless threats, my heart felt completely dead.

"Raymond, what makes you think I'd still want damaged goods?"