Roxanne shook her head, a look of sorrow in her eyes.
"I'm fine. I just tripped over something," she murmured, casting a quick glance in my direction.
It didn't take Christopher long to piece things together. He looked up at me, his gaze sharp with accusation. "Quit the dirty tricks, Willow."
I pressed my hand against my aching ear and fixed him with a cold stare.
After a beat, Christopher seemed to sense something was wrong. "What happened to your—"
"Deal with the matter I brought up today quickly, Christopher," I cut him off, my expression neutral. "You were right about one thing, though—Roxanne's tactics are dirty."
Without hesitation, I turned on my heel and walked away.
Back in my room, I ran cold water over my ear. Fortunately, it was just a small scrape. When I checked my phone, I noticed a string of WhatsApp messages from Professor Tate.
"Have you made a decision yet? Are you interested in joining this project?
"It's a rare opportunity that could greatly benefit your academic career and future prospects."
He was talking about the research project he was leading—one that wasn't typically open to graduate students. After recognizing my potential, he made an exception and extended me the offer.
The downside was that the project would last two years, and I wouldn't be able to go anywhere else in the meantime.
Back then, I'd turned him down without a second thought. I had just married Christopher, and there was still much to do. I needed time.
Professor Tate wasn't bothered by my refusal and asked me to reconsider. Now, he'd messaged me again.
I knew exactly what to reply. "I've made my decision, Professor Tate. I'll join the project once my break ends."
It had been four years. It was time to move forward. The moment I hit "send", a knock sounded at the door.
Christopher's voice followed. "Willow, it's me."
I didn't want to see him, not now.
"What do you need?" I asked through the door.
"I brought some ointment for your burn," he said.
I couldn't be bothered to argue, so I simply said, "I don't need it. Please go."
But he opened the door and stepped inside. Before I knew it, he squeezed a dab of ointment onto his finger and gently smoothed it over my burned skin.
"Does it still hurt?" he asked.
I frowned, brushing past his concern, and cut to the chase. "Let's set a date and go to the courthouse, Christopher."
He pulled me into an embrace. His voice came out muffled, with a hint of hurt. "I told you I'd handle this."
I shoved him back, giving him a mocking stare. "Are you trying to fool me or yourself? If you truly wanted to handle this, you'd stand by me, get rid of Roxanne for my sake. Instead, you're making empty promises and putting all the blame on me."
Christopher avoided my gaze and said nothing. It didn't take long before Roxanne called for him, and he left without a word.
I let out a bitter laugh. I should've seen this coming from the start.
That night, I began packing my belongings, determined to move out within two days. I avoided them as much as possible, but Roxanne still came to me.
She approached with a sneer, her eyes brimming with disdain. "You've got quite the knack for playing the innocent houseguest, haven't you? Staying over for a while? Please. It's obvious you're angling to take over my place.
"Sadly, Christopher will never have feelings for you. Quit going after someone else's guy, or you'll end up hurting yourself and others."
