Chapter 3

My fingers tightened around the hospital report inside my bag.

"Julian, I’m really not feeling well today."

Through the speaker, Vivian’s soft voice immediately drifted in: "Julian, please, it’s fine. I don't need to eat it."

"Nora has taken care of you for five years. She’s probably sick and tired of playing the maid."

Julian’s voice instantly dropped to sub-zero temperatures. "Nora, don't make me repeat myself."

I closed my eyes.

"I'll be there in thirty minutes."

When I walked into the villa, Vivian was curled up on the sofa wrapped in a plush throw blanket.

Julian was kneeling in front of her, testing the temperature of a warm water bowl.

I walked into the kitchen and began preparing the soup.

The pumpkin had to be steamed until tender, mashed into a smooth puree, and slowly simmered with fresh broth.

When Julian used to lose his appetite during his recovery, this was the only thing he could swallow.

Now, I carried that very bowl and placed it in Vivian’s manicured hands.

She took a single spoonful and delicately wrinkled her nose. "It’s a bit bland."

Julian looked at me. "Make it again."

I stood there, cold sweat dripping down my back from the agony gnawing at my insides.

"The doctor said she shouldn't have too much sodium."

Vivian instantly tugged Julian’s sleeve, tears pooling in her doe-like eyes. "Julian, don't blame Nora. Maybe she did it on purpose, or maybe she just forgot."

Julian’s expression turned pitch black.

"Nora. Apologize."

I stared at the bowl of soup.

I remembered during those five years, Julian once threw a boiling mug of tea right at my feet because he thought it was too bitter.

The scalding liquid blistered my skin, yet my first instinct had been to drop down and check if he had panicked.

Now, over a bowl of soup, he demanded my apology.

I spoke softly. "I'm sorry."

Vivian set the spoon down with a soft clatter, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Never mind, Julian. I’ve lost my appetite."

"Maybe I shouldn't have come back. I hate making people feel miserable over a bowl of soup."

Julian stood up. His towering frame loomed over me.

"Nora. Get on your knees and apologize."

I looked up at him, a high-pitched ringing echoing in my ears.

"What did you just say?"

Julian avoided my gaze, his voice harsh and dismissive. "Her condition can't handle emotional stress. Since you made her upset, you will apologize until she feels better."

Vivian gasped softly, pretending to be horrified. "Julian, please don't do this!"

Yet the look in her eyes was dripping with triumphant malice.

A violent convulsion hit my stomach. I nearly threw up right there.

Instead, I simply bowed low at a ninety-degree angle and said, "Miss Sinclair, I am sorry."

Vivian wiped her tears, her voice dripping with sweet condescension.

"It’s okay, Nora. I know it’s just because you love Julian too much."

Julian finally turned his back, refusing to look at me any longer.

I straightened my spine, numb to the bone.

It turns out, when someone is trampled into the dirt, they don't shatter with a loud bang.

They just stand there quietly, thinking: *Thank God. It's almost over.*

That evening, Julian summoned me to his private study.

Vivian was nestled on the sofa beside him, flipping through a glossy bridal magazine.

Standing in the doorway, I already knew what was coming.

After a brief silence, Julian spoke. "Vivian has always had one regret."

I said nothing.

"When we were younger, she dreamed of wearing a white gown and marrying me," he said.

"So I’ve decided to throw a wedding ceremony for her."

The air was sucked out of the room.

My voice sounded paper-thin. "A wedding?"

He frowned, irritated by my reaction. "It’s just a ceremony. We aren't signing legal papers. It has no legal standing."

I looked at him.

So in his mind, as long as there wasn't a marriage certificate, wearing a tuxedo, walking Vivian down the aisle, placing a ring on her finger, and swearing eternal love before a room full of guests didn't count as betrayal.

Vivian looked up at me, sniffling softly. "Nora, I’m so sorry. I swear I’m not trying to take your place."

"I’m just afraid... if I don't wear a wedding dress now, I’ll never get the chance."

Julian immediately took her fragile hands in his.

"Don't cry."

Then he leveled a stern, warning glare at me. "Nora, Vivian doesn't have much time left."

*Julian, neither do I.*

The words screamed inside my head.

Out loud, I merely nodded.

"Okay."

Julian seemed taken aback by how easily I surrendered.

He studied my face, an unreadable flash of irritation flickering in his eyes.

"The wedding is being put together on short notice. Help Vivian look over the details. She’s fragile; she can't overexert herself."

I lowered my eyes. "Understood."