Chapter 3

I stared at her for a long moment. I didn't even feel angry anymore; I was just tired.

I knelt down and unzipped my suitcase.

There wasn't much inside.

Despite following Chloe around for five whole years, I was only leaving with a few changes of clothes.

Tristan was determined to humiliate me.

He didn't even bother to bend down. He simply used the toe of his designer sneaker to kick my clothes around, scattering them all over the floor and stepping on them.

Only when my clothes were thoroughly ruined and dirtied did he look satisfied.

He wrapped his arm around Chloe’s waist, looking at me with pure disdain.

"Alright, looks like there’s nothing. Now get out. You're an eyesore."

"Chloe didn't sleep at all last night because of the company. We need to rest!"

I looked at the mess on the floor. Most of my clothes were torn or covered in dirt, completely unwearable.

My suitcase was ruined too. There was no point in packing them again.

I looked at the housekeeper, Mrs. Gable.

"I won't be needing these anymore. Could you please have someone throw them out?"

She looked at me with deep sympathy and nodded.

Just as I reached the front door, Chloe suddenly called out.

"Logan!"

I paused, but I didn't turn around.

"Apologize to me for kicking the ring, and I'll make Tristan move out."

"Otherwise, if you walk out that door today, I swear I'll cut off your mother's hospital funds tomorrow. And the bone marrow? I won't donate it!"

My mother's death certificate was sitting in my jacket pocket.

Chloe's threats sounded like a sick joke.

I turned around to face her.

She was leaning over the second-floor railing, her face flushed with anger. I didn't understand why she was so angry. She looked like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum because even though she got exactly what she wanted, she still wanted to hurt me.

"You're disgusting," I whispered.

Chloe’s eyes widened.

She looked as if she couldn't believe what she had just heard, and even more shocked by the absolute disgust in my eyes. Her heart hammered against her ribs as a wave of panic washed over her.

Beside her, Tristan was still trying to soothe her.

"Logan is way too much! How could he talk to you like that? Chloe, you look so pale. Are you okay? Let me help you back to the bedroom..."

An intense, inexplicable irritation flared up inside Chloe.

Looking at Tristan's pretty, eager face, she let him lead her into the master bedroom.

But right before their lips met, Chloe closed her eyes, only to see the image of my straight, unyielding back walking out of her house without a single regret.

And the look of absolute disgust on my face when I called her disgusting.

Chloe snapped her eyes open and pushed Tristan away.

"Go rest by yourself," she said coldly. "I have things to do."

She took two steps, then turned back to look at Tristan, whose face was full of confusion.

"Actually, pack your things and leave."

"This house doesn't suit you."

She rushed downstairs.

She didn't care that Tristan was screaming and smashing things in the master bedroom.

She grabbed her car keys and headed straight for the garage. As she passed the foyer, she saw Mrs. Gable holding the bag of ruined clothes, about to throw them out.

Chloe stopped in her tracks.

"Keep them," she ordered.

Mrs. Gable nodded, her face blank.

Chloe hesitated, then asked, "I've brought people home before. Logan has a good temper. He should be fine in a couple of days, right?"

Mrs. Gable looked up, the confusion in her eyes genuine.

Chloe looked away, not waiting for an answer, and slammed her foot on the gas.

She spoke aloud, as if trying to convince herself:

"I'm just mad that he wanted to break up. I know he loves me."

"His mother is still in the hospital, and his dad's watch is still at the pawnshop. He can't just abandon everything."

"I just need to coax him a little. He'll come back..."