Daryl's face changed.
“Cicely, that's not what I meant——”
“I don't care what you meant. You called the police and said I committed fraud. That's already done. You've been enduring me a long time? Well, I've been enduring you just as long. Perfect.”
He stood up, walked over, and crouched in front of me, looking up at my face.
Two years of marriage, and every time he wanted something from me, this was the pose.
The first time was the proposal. The second was getting my father to invest in his project. The third was when his father's company ran out of cash.
Now the fourth.
“Cicely, I was wrong. I was really wrong.”
“No, you weren't.” I looked down at him. “Everything you said was true. I do spend money all day. I do take advantage of you. You couldn't stand it anymore. That's perfectly normal.”
“That's not what I——”
“Then why did you call the police?”
He had nothing to say to that.
I stood up. He followed, reaching for my hand. I pulled away.
“I'll have my lawyer draft the agreement. That shared payment account you've been using—cancel it today. The company seal and the legal representative status are both under my name. You don't need to worry about any of it. Just pack your things and go.”
“What about the company?” he finally asked.
“The company has nothing to do with you. My father funded it. The legal representative and the accounts are both in my name.”
“But I——”
“You what? How much did you actually contribute? Daryl, that project of yours—from approval to launch, which part wasn't your father begging my father to make happen? What did you do yourself?”
His face went red.
I looked at him and suddenly found him boring. I used to think he was good-looking, knew how to talk, the kind of man you were proud to have on your arm.
Now? Just another face.
“I'm giving you three days.”
I picked up my phone and headed for the master bedroom.
He grabbed my wrist.
“Cicely, you really want to do this?”
“Do what?”
“Aren't you afraid of what people will say——”
“Say what? That you married into my family, spent my family's money, and then called the police on me? Are you really sure I'm the one who should be embarrassed?”
His grip loosened.
I went into the bedroom and shut the door.
Half an hour later, my parents arrived.
My mother started shouting the second she walked in：“Where's Daryl? Get him out here!”
Daryl came out of the study, white as a sheet.
My father sat on the couch, legs crossed, watching him.
“Daryl. Tell me what happened.”
Daryl stood there, mouth opening and closing, and finally managed：“Dad, I was confused.”
“Don't call me that.” My father's voice was quiet, but cold. “When you signed the agreement, you said you'd treat Cicely well. It's been two years, and you called the police to have her arrested?”
“I didn't mean to call the police, it was my secretary——”
“She's your secretary, not some hitman you hired. She does what you tell her. What's your point?”
Daryl went silent.
My mother turned to me：“Are you alright?”
“I'm fine.”
“Where's the dress? Let me see it.”
I blinked, caught off guard.
My mother shot me a look：“A six-hundred-dollar dress and you couldn't just buy it? You had to swipe his card?”
“It's Dad's card——”
“Your father's card is your card. Now explain—did Daryl stop you from using it, or did you just refuse to?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again.
Daryl stood there with his head down, like a schoolkid caught misbehaving.
My mother walked right up to him.
“How much do you make in a month? Where does the money you spend come from? Have you ever bought your wife a single piece of clothing?”
Daryl said nothing.
“Whose house are you living in? Whose car are you driving? Who gave you that position at the company?”
