Chapter 2

Selena's POV

Pearl’s idea of "making things up to her" quickly began invading every corner of my life with Harrison.

Today marked our eighth anniversary together.

We had planned to dine at an exclusive Michelin-starred restaurant where reservations had to be booked three full months in advance. For once, I had dressed up in an off-white silk dress, put on light makeup, and sat waiting for him on the living room sofa.

The doorbell rang. Harrison walked in. But right beside him was Pearl.

The faint smile on my lips froze.

Pearl clutched a faded photograph, holding it up to Harrison like a prized treasure, her eyes wide and innocent. "Look, Harrison! We took this when we were kids. You promised me back then that when I grew up, you'd spend every birthday with me. Today is actually my birthday... did you forget?"

Harrison stared at the photograph, stunned into silence.

The photo showed two young children, a little boy fastening a necklace around a little girl's neck.

A tidal wave of guilt, eight years overdue, seemed to wash over him all over again.

I stood up, keeping my composure intact. "Harrison, our reservation is at seven. It's almost time to go."

It was the first and last time in eight years that I ever spoke up to remind him of a promise made between us.

Snapping out of his daze, Harrison hesitated, conflict flickering in his eyes. Before he could speak, Pearl turned toward me with a timid look. "Are you going to that fancy French place? Back in the countryside, I never even got to see what French food looked like... Harrison, can I come too? Please?"

Harrison fell silent for a beat, then looked up at me with that same polite, calm demeanor. "Selena, Pearl's never experienced fine dining. Why don't we bring her along? It's just one extra seat."

I looked him dead in the eye and refused. "It's an intimate couples' restaurant."

"It's just dinner, Selena. Don't be so rigid," Harrison muttered, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. "Pearl has been through hell. Can't you show a little empathy?"

In the end, all three of us arrived at the upscale restaurant.

The host greeted us with an apologetic wince. "Mr. Hayes, I am so sorry. Our tables are private, fixed booths designed strictly for couples. There is physically no space to add a third chair."

The air instantly thickened with tension.

Pearl’s eyes welled with tears, and she took a frantic step back like a frightened rabbit. "I'm so sorry, Harrison... this is all my fault. I shouldn't have come. I'll just go. You two enjoy your dinner..."

She turned as if to leave, but Harrison caught her by the wrist.

"You stay," he insisted, holding her hand. Then he turned to look at me. Deep down, he must have known how outrageous his next words were, but his guilt easily overpowered his reason. "Selena, Pearl's health is delicate. She can't stand for long. Just... stand by the side for a bit, okay? We'll leave as soon as we finish."

My fingertips went completely numb.

In an intimate, candlelit restaurant filled with couples, my fiancé was asking me to stand and watch while he dined with another woman.

I didn't cause a scene. I didn't storm out. I simply stepped aside and stood quietly beside the table. I had two weeks left, and I needed to carve every last trace of love for him out of my heart. This sharp, humiliating pain was the perfect tool.

The food was served. Pearl sank comfortably into the plush booth, smiling like an innocent child. Pointing to the escargot in the center of the table, she whined, "Selena, that's too far for me to reach. Could you serve some onto my plate, please?"

I didn't move.

Harrison sighed, his tone carrying the sharp rebuke of an exasperated guardian. "Selena, it's a simple favor. Just help her out."

Without a word, I picked up the serving fork, transferred a portion, and set it on Pearl’s plate.

Pearl kept finding things for me to do—cutting her steak, pouring her wine. I moved like an empty shell, carrying out every request mechanically.

Discreet glances from neighboring tables quickly turned into stares.

"What is going on over there? Two women and one guy?"

"Why is that girl standing the whole time waiting on them? Is she a personal maid?"

"Who brings a maid to an anniversary spot? Looks more like the wife being walked all over by the mistress. That's brutal."

The whispers were soft, yet every word cut straight through the air.

Pearl seemed to finally notice the murmurs. She abruptly dropped her silverware, tears spilling down her cheeks in heavy drops. "Selena, are you doing this on purpose to humiliate me? If serving me makes you feel so degraded, you could've just said so! Why make everyone think I'm bullying you..."

Harrison’s face darkened in an instant. Looking at my impassive expression, he slammed his linen napkin onto the table.

"Selena, when did you become so spiteful?" he hissed under his breath, his words dripping with disgust. "Pearl just wanted a nice meal. Who are you putting on this tragic martyr act for? Don't think playing these petty mind games will make me feel sorry for you."

I set down the utensils. The metal clinked sharply against the fine china.

I looked at this man I had loved for eight years. He had stunning features and an elegant, gentle aura, yet every word out of his mouth was laced with venom.

"I don't feel degraded," I said, my voice calmer than my face. "Enjoy your dinner. I'm leaving."

I turned and walked away, my spine straight as a rod, without a single glance back.