Chapter 3

After that argument, Chloe and I didn't speak for two weeks.

I thought she would reflect on her behavior, but when she finally called, her tone was just as demanding as ever.

"Mom, I'm moving. The new apartment is on the sixth floor with no elevator. There are a lot of heavy boxes. Come over early tomorrow to help."

There was no apology in her voice, as if our last fight had never happened.

Holding the phone, a storm of emotions swirled inside me. I remembered her fake smile when she handed me those gloves, and the old sweater filled with memories. Ultimately, I couldn't bring myself to say no. I whispered,

"Okay, I'll be there early."

The next morning, I packed the gloves and some cleaning cloths. Without even eating breakfast, I rushed to her new place.

At the building, I saw a mountain of cardboard boxes and furniture piled near the entrance. I rolled up my sleeves and started carrying them up.

By the time Chloe and Eleanor arrived, I had already hauled most of the heavy boxes upstairs and was on my hands and knees scrubbing the windows, drenched in sweat.

Eleanor walked in slowly, holding a bag of apples. She sat down comfortably on the couch and immediately started barking orders.

"Put that box in the corner, don't block the hallway. The wardrobe needs to go against the bedroom wall, or it'll take up too much space. And make sure to wipe those windows clean—don't leave any water streaks."

Chloe immediately smiled, poured a cup of tea, and handed it to Eleanor with both hands.

"Relax, Eleanor. Don't tire yourself out. Just let my mom do it. She’s fast and used to manual labor."

She didn’t look at me once, let alone ask if I was tired.

I gritted my teeth and kept wiping the glass, telling myself she was my daughter, so it was fine to sweat a little.

But I wasn't careful. My elbow caught a mug on the coffee table, and it shattered loudly on the floor.

Chloe instantly exploded, marching over and screaming in my face.

"Mom, can't you be careful? Eleanor gave me that mug! It was expensive! Why are you always so clumsy?"

Then she turned to Eleanor with a sweet smile.

"It's okay, Eleanor. I'll buy you a brand-new one tomorrow. A much better one."

Eleanor said fake-sweetly,

"Oh, it's fine. It's just a mug. Your mom didn't mean to."

But the disgust in her eyes was impossible to hide.

I knelt on the floor to pick up the broken glass. A sharp piece sliced my finger, and blood began to drip. Chloe didn't even glance at it. She was too busy peeling an apple for Eleanor, asking softly,

"Here, Eleanor, have some apple. It's really sweet."

By the time I finished cleaning, it was almost two in the afternoon. My stomach was growling. I wanted to stay for lunch, but Chloe handed me a bulging trash bag.

"Mom, Eleanor and I made reservations at a steakhouse. You probably wouldn't like western food anyway, so go home and eat. Oh, and take the trash down with you."

Her tone was so casual, as if I were nothing but hired help.

I took the trash bag and watched them leave, laughing and talking like a real mother and daughter. My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe.

On my way home, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Chloe.

"Mom, thanks for today. I'll buy you dinner next time."

Looking at the message, the resentment that had built up in my chest eased slightly.

Maybe she just forgot to consider my feelings, I told myself. But that self-delusion was shattered into pieces at her birthday party.

She had mentioned earlier that she wanted a high-end anti-aging skincare set. I visited three different malls, compared multiple brands, and spent half of my monthly pension to buy it for her.

Many relatives and friends showed up at the party. Chloe looked beautiful in her new dress, smiling from ear to ear.

Eleanor pulled out a red jewelry box and handed it to her.

"Happy birthday, dear. I bought you a necklace. I knew it would look gorgeous on you."

Chloe opened it and immediately hugged Eleanor tightly, showing off the necklace to everyone.

"Look everyone! The necklace Eleanor bought me! It's so delicate. This is the best gift I've ever received. Eleanor knows me best!"

I found out later that the necklace was a cheap knock-off, worth less than thirty dollars.

When it was my turn to give her my gift, I carefully handed over the expensive skincare set. Chloe took it, set it aside without even opening the box, and complained to a relative sitting next to her,

"The skincare my mom buys never suits me. It’s always too heavy and greasy. It’s nothing like Eleanor's necklace. Now that has class."

The relatives looked at me with pity, whispering among themselves.

"What an ungrateful brat. Her mother gave her everything, and she still treats her like garbage."

I sat in the corner, watching the lively party, feeling completely numb. Before the dinner even ended, I quietly slipped away.

Walking home in the cold night breeze, my tears finally overflowed.

Just as I was drowning in sorrow, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Chloe.

"Mom, I'm sorry about earlier. I was a bit blunt at the party. Please don't take it to heart. Here’s $200. Go buy yourself something nice. Consider it an apology."

Looking at the text, my heart softened again. I thought she still had a conscience and was probably just under a lot of stress.

I didn't accept the money. I replied,

"It's fine. As long as you're happy."