Chapter 3

3: 3

3

Laurence acted like he was only now noticing I was there.

He turned his head and gave me a flawless smile, though his eyes were like needles dipped in poison.

"Orson, so you're here too?"

His tone was familiar, but his gaze swept over what I was wearing with clear intent, finally settling on the watch on my wrist.

"That's a real eye for detail you've got there, especially the watch. Madison's always had great taste when she picks things out."

His words were a soft blade, praising me on the surface while quietly reminding me underneath.

A lot of what I had on, this watch included, the one Madison gave me when we got engaged.

Maybe all of it had passed through her hands, carrying the shadow of another man.

Madison didn't seem to catch any hidden meaning at all. If anything, Laurence's "compliment" only made her more pleased with herself.

She hooked her arm through his and shot me a chiding look. "Orson really doesn't have any taste. If I hadn't stepped in with my opinions, who knows what our wedding home would've ended up looking like."

"And he's so petty. He doesn't know the first thing about being considerate."

Laurence patted the back of her hand, the picture of patience and tenderness.

"Madison, don't say that. Orson's just a bit old-fashioned in his thinking, a little careless with people, that's all."

"He really does love you."

Every line was meant to "let me off the hook," and every line pushed me into a worse light.

Hearing it, her friends started shaking their heads at me one after another.

I watched the scene in front of me without a word.

Madison nestled against Laurence, her face warm with a genuine smile and reliance on him.

I suddenly wanted to laugh.

Not at them. At myself.

At the fact that I'd actually come rushing over because of a fake message.

At all the times before this that I'd chosen to tolerate and to believe.

Laurence spoke again, his voice gentle.

"Orson, I know why you argued with Madison."

"It's just because she lent me a few things without asking you first, isn't it?"

He looked straight at me, without a trace of guilt or evasion.

"Don't worry. I'll give it all back tomorrow."

He made the promise flatly, like it was already settled.

Then he turned back to Madison, his eyes softening at once into endless tenderness.

"Just please don't be angry with Madison anymore. Don't be so petty."

The whole speech was noble-sounding and airtight.

Madison was deeply moved.

She tilted her face up at Laurence, a clear film of tears gathering in her eyes.

It was a tenderness I'd never once seen from her.

"Laurence, don't be like this."

"Money's tight for you right now. Take the things and use them, there's no rush to return them."

"Orson and I aren't getting married for a while yet."

That look on her face chilled me more than any sharp word could have.

I couldn't stand to watch anymore.

Every extra second felt like cruelty to myself.

I turned and left without a word.

The instant the door closed, I heard her friends whispering behind me.

"See, I called it. He's jealous again for sure."

"Right? That thin a skin... honestly, only Madison could put up with it."

Last came Madison's careless voice.

"Ignore him."

"A few words tomorrow and I'll have him talked around."

The hallway light was dim and murky, the air thick with the cloying mix of smoke, liquor, and perfume.

I didn't pause. I walked straight for the exit.

The next morning at breakfast, my phone buzzed.

A message popped up in the building residents' group chat. A girl I didn't really know had tagged me.

"Hi, about the things in unit 801, are they really all free for the taking?"

I gave a short reply. "Yes."

Then I posted all the photos I'd taken the night before to the group.

Furniture, appliances, decorative pieces, even the curtains and the rugs.

The pictures went up one after another, the sent-successfully chime sounding over and over.

After breakfast I came to the door of the wedding home and heard the racket coming from inside.

Laurence was directing a few workers assembling a round Italian bed.

He was dressed casually, completely at ease.

As if he were the one who owned this wedding home.

The moment Madison saw me she came over quickly, a bright smile on her face.

She hooked her arm through mine, her voice sugary. "Orson, you're right on time!"

"Laurence ordered us that round Italian bed. It just got here. Don't forget to pay for it in a bit."