Chapter 2

I looked at the old woman, my voice calm.

"Now that your wish to hold a great-grandchild has come true, I won't keep your family any longer."

"From now on, what makeup I wear and what clothes I put on have nothing to do with you Barneses."

Rebecca's face darkened.

"What kind of attitude is that?"

I didn't say another word. I walked straight out of the office and went home.

Looking around this wedding home, I felt a wave of bitterness.

I dug all the fertility tonics out of the kitchen and threw them all into the trash.

When everything was done, I sat on the sofa, and the memories came flooding back like a tide.

Lambert grew up in the red-light district. His father was a gambler, and his mother ran off with a rich man too.

He grew up crammed into an attic in an alley with his grandmother.

Back then, my parents were dead set against us being together. No matter how I begged, they wouldn't give in.

So I cut ties with them without hesitation, flew to this strange city, and built the business at his side.

In the early days, everything was hard.

The rental leaked cold air from every corner in the dead of winter. He held me tight and said that one day he'd buy me a big house—the kind with floor-to-ceiling windows, where the sun poured in every day.

We rode a secondhand electric scooter down street after street, doing our own promotions and pulling in clients.

When we couldn't hold on any longer, we'd sit outside the most expensive housing development.

We'd gaze at the lit-up windows in the distance and cheer each other on, telling ourselves that one day we'd live in there too.

Eight years. Almost three thousand days and nights.

Life really did get better and better—so much better that he forgot how he'd gotten through it all.

In the end, my mom softened after all, and secretly slipped me some money so we could live well.

Lambert kept putting off buying a house, saying the company was tight on cash, that we should wait a little longer.

So I emptied out all the money and bought this place.

The day I got the keys, I cried with joy. We finally had a home.

But in the end, he had a child with someone else.

My phone buzzed on the sofa. A new email sat in my inbox.

I opened it. It was a personnel notice.

Notice Regarding the Removal of Doris Fox from Her Position.

In that email, I was made out to be a criminal—improper work attitude, repeated violations of discipline, dereliction of duty causing project losses—stripped of every position I held.

I stared at the screen, and a chill settled over me.

In those first years of building his company, I slept only three or four hours a night.

When he ran short of cash, I was the one who maxed out every credit card to make payroll.

In the whole company, I was the last person to shut off the lights and leave.

But now this email landed like a slap across my face.

I suddenly burst out laughing. The laughter echoed through the room, as if it were mocking me too.

And as I laughed, the tears fell.

I didn't sleep a wink all night.

Early the next morning, the doorbell rang.

Lambert stood at the door holding Denise's hand.

When he saw me, he cleared his throat lightly.

"Doris, I'm moving in with Denise from now on. I came to get my things."

I stared at him, my throat dry and raw.

"What was that email supposed to mean? What gives you the right to remove me?"

Lambert said nothing. Denise spoke up first.

"Manager Fox, don't blame Mr. Barnes. That notice… I was the one who asked him to send it."

"Your emotions aren't stable right now, and I was afraid you'd make mistakes working in that state. Once you're feeling better, your position can be reinstated anytime."

She paused, her tone easy.

"Mr. Barnes has always told me how much you've suffered for him. He wanted you to use this chance to rest well."

I looked at her, my stomach turning.

"Stop playing so gracious. It sounds fake."

Her smile froze, and her voice dropped.

"I'm sorry. I spoke out of turn."

Lambert frowned at once, as if I'd wronged her somehow.

"Denise means well. Why are you taking it out on her?"

Denise shook her head and forced out a smile.

"It's fine. Manager Fox is in a bad mood right now. I understand."

I didn't look at her again. I turned to close the door.

"I'll have a housekeeper pack your things and send them over. Now please leave!"

Denise stepped forward and suddenly grabbed my hand.

"From now on, if you ever run into trouble, you can always come to us."

Her fingertips bore down, her nails digging hard into my flesh.

I hissed with pain and instinctively swatted her arm away.

The next second, she seemed to twist her ankle and pitched forward.

Lambert caught her from behind in a flash, and when he looked up at me, his eyes went icy.

"Doris! What do you think you're doing?!"

"She was speaking to you so nicely, and you push her?!"

"If anything happens to the baby in her belly, I will never let this go!"

Denise trembled in his arms, her eyes rimming red.

"Lambert… it's not her fault. I just lost my footing…"

Lambert bent over her anxiously.

"Don't move. Let me check if your belly hurts."

Denise shook her head and looked at me.

"I really, truly never meant to take anything from you. If it makes you feel better, you can hit me, curse at me, whatever you want."

Lambert swept her up sideways into his arms.

"Doris, you really are vicious!"

My voice came out a little hoarse.

"Lambert, eight years together, and this is how you see me?"

His lips moved, but his eyes were cold.

"You always think you're right."

"You think that because you sacrificed, I owe you eternal gratitude. Your youth counts as youth, but mine doesn't? I don't owe you anymore. Go hate whoever you want."

My fingers clenched and loosened, and a buzzing filled my ears.

Before the door shut, I saw Denise resting against his shoulder, the corner of her mouth curving up.

Everything fell quiet again.

Just then a text from my mom popped up.

"Doris, honey, have you booked the hotel for the wedding yet? The band, photographer, all those key vendors—you have to book them half a year ahead."

I stayed silent for a long time. Then I dialed her number.

"Mom, I'm not getting married anymore."