It would be a lie to say that I had no ulterior motives, of course. But at the same time, seeing the state he was in, I simply wanted an excuse to stay by his side a little longer.
To my surprise, Jerome slept with me that very night after getting drunk.
The next morning, he held my hand and said, "Move in with me. I'll take care of you."
I was overjoyed to hear that. I truly believed that even an iceberg could be melted with the warmth of my feelings over time.
It felt like all my patience and effort had finally paid off when Jerome proposed to me.
However, fate had a way of pulling cruel pranks on me.
Not long after our engagement, Caroline, who had vanished from Jerome's life for two whole years, suddenly returned, dragging a pile of lawsuits with her.
The day she came back, she looked utterly miserable, with bruises mottling her pale skin.
As soon as she saw Jerome, she threw herself into his arms and cried her heart out.
"Jerome, please help me… You're the only one who can help me now."
When I saw the slight redness in the corners of his eyes, my heart began racing in anxiety.
Why didn't he push her away?
Maybe a girlfriend was no match for a former lover's tears.
Jerome's last line of defence against Caroline crumbled the moment she tearfully claimed she was forced to marry someone else back then.
"Now that he's dead, his children are taking me to court over the inheritance. They want to throw me out with nothing to my name! They even hit me!"
Despite his usual calm and composed demeanor, Jerome shattered a glass that day.
From that moment on, a rift grew between us—an unbridgeable chasm we could never cross.
…
It was still dark outside when the sound of the front door's digital lock echoed through the house.
Half-asleep, Jerome pressed his fingers to his temple and sat up with an annoyed look.
"So, you still remember that you have a home to return to?"
We both turned to look at the door—he, a man, and I, a mere spirit.
When I saw a tear-streaked Caroline standing by the door, my heart clenched tightly.
When did he give her the door code? This was supposed to be our home. So why was Caroline allowed to come and go like she owned the place?
"Caroline?"
Jerome checked the time and then hurried over to examine her.
"Why are you here at this hour? Did they hit you again? Where are you hurt? I'll go confront them right now!"
Jerome was a lawyer, so he knew better than anyone not to resort to violence and take justice into his own hands.
But when it came to Caroline, he would always lose his reason.
Yet if the same thing happened to me, it would be a different story altogether.
In the second year after graduation, I was nearly assaulted by a predatory boss.
I came home crying, hoping he'd protect me like any loving boyfriend would and offer some comfort.
But after calmly analyzing the situation, Jerome asked, "Do you have any evidence? Audio, video, or photographic evidence of the alleged crime?"
Trembling and scared, I shook my head. "It happened too fast… I didn't get anything."
After my reply, I saw the disappointment in his eyes.
"As a lawyer's girlfriend, how can you not have any basic legal awareness?"
"But everything happened so suddenly. How could I have possibly prepared for it?" I thought to myself.
"You'd better resign. If you have no proof, how am I supposed to help you?"
In that brief moment, I was so stunned that I forgot how to cry.
I looked at him and muttered, "So… that's it, then?"
"Of course!" He scoffed. "I'm a lawyer. Do you expect me to break the law and beat the guy up to avenge you? Monica, don't be so childish."
It was then that I finally understood—Jerome wasn't incapable of being impulsive. He just never acted impulsively for my sake.
Caroline was still holding his wrist tightly, with tears running down her cheeks.
"Jerome, I-I… I hit someone and fled the scene. Please… help me."
My mind went blank in that instant.
So, I was right all along. She was the one who had hit me.
She watched me drown and did nothing.
Perhaps she had intended to kill me right from the beginning.
