Chapter 2

Late into the night, Douglas came home again.

I was sitting at the dining table. A few little side dishes and a bowl of plain oatmeal were scattered across it.

He glanced at the table, his brow knitting, displeasure crossing his face.

"This is all they made for you?"

I looked at the gentle warmth in his eyes, but I couldn't ignore the red mark on his neck. A trace of lipstick.

"It's not about what's on the table, it's about who eats with me. Douglas, you haven't had a single meal with me in half a month."

A flicker of annoyance passed over his face. He crossed slowly to my side and sat down, and the smell of an unfamiliar woman's perfume drifted off him.

"Did one of the servants say something out of line? Bear with it as best you can, don't take it to heart."

"They've been with my mother for years. It isn't easy for me to come down hard on them."

I turned my head toward him slowly. The old wound in my left leg seemed to ache again, dull and low.

"Douglas, right or wrong, if your mother backs it, you'll do it without a second thought, won't you?"

"If she told you to marry someone else, would you go along like some lapdog too—"

Douglas went rigid, his voice cold as frost.

"Enough! This isn't the prairie, Delma. That free-and-easy nature of yours really does need to change."

The corner of my mouth curved into a bitter smile.

Back on the prairie, what he'd loved most was my untamed streak. But the moment I stepped into this city, the very thing that had drawn him to take me away became a flaw.

I didn't keep arguing with him. I walked back to the bedroom alone and shut the door, closing his hollow tenderness out.

With my back against the door, I opened the screenshots saved on my phone with trembling hands.

【Day 1,699 of Loving Little Delma】:

"The wild mare left the prairie, and somehow she isn't so special anymore. Her wildness can't be reined in. I regret it."

Line after line ground down my nerves. I had to admit it: Douglas had changed long ago.

After a long hesitation, I worked up the courage to log into my burner account, opened his social media page, and browsed his following list as a visitor.

My fingertip slid down slowly, and an unfamiliar account came into view.

Daphne Henson. The Henson heiress the servants said he was about to get engaged to.

I held my breath and tapped into her page. Her most recent post had gone up less than two hours ago.

The frame showed a lavish, grand proposal, and the photo caught Douglas clearly.

He stood at Daphne's side, and when he lowered his gaze to look at her, a soft smile spread through his eyes.

The caption was bold, and something in it stung on instinct:

"However vast the prairie, in the end it can't keep the one who wants to come home and settle down. Thank you, Douglas, for setting us on the path we were meant for."

My gaze slid down, and my heart was suddenly seized in a hard grip.

Douglas's profile picture sat at the very top of the likes. He'd seen this post, and of his own free will, he had liked it.

That wasn't all. I kept scrolling through Daphne's older posts.

A few photos caught my eye. The jewelry Daphne was wearing in them was a style I remembered all too well.

Not long ago Douglas had shown me a picture of it and asked if I liked it. I'd thought it was far too extravagant and shook my head, turning it down.

He'd said lightly that this piece would find the right person eventually.

So the right person, from the very start, had never meant me.