Sabrina's POV
The moment we stepped into the mall, I spotted Phyll not too far ahead, standing inside a lingerie boutique. One arm was wrapped around Barbara, while the other helped her pick out lingerie.
Their friends crowded around, teasing, “I remember back in college, Barbara was flat as a board. But look at her now! I heard it’s all thanks to Phyll.”
“Phyll, huh? Didn’t know your skills were that good,” the other friend chimed in.
Barbara laughed behind her hand, giving the speaker a playful glare. “Don’t talk nonsense. Careful, or his old hag at home will feed you diapers as well.”
Everyone snickered with open disdain.
“Let her hear, who cares? If it weren’t for Phyll, I would’ve told her off already. That orphan with no parents isn’t even worthy of him.”
“Exactly. And she keeps bragging about saving one of Phyll’s projects. As if he needed her help. He’s got powerful backers behind him. She’s just full of herself, always trying to act touched by her own little gestures.”
“Right. Before she showed up, our group was so much more relaxed. Luckily, Phyll didn’t drag her along today. Honestly, dude, why don’t you just dump her already? Stick with Barbara instead. Keep it in the family, if you know what I mean.”
“Though,” one added, “I did hear Sabrina once say she’s got a brother overseas doing business. Didn’t mention what kind, though.”
Barbara clung tighter to Phyll’s arm, her tone dripping with mockery. “Women love to brag. These days, even a dishwasher calls himself a restaurant owner. Who knows, maybe her brother’s just a professional trash picker. Foreign Beggar’s Association chairman, maybe? Hahaha!”
She flipped her hair and smirked. “See, I don’t play those games. I just brag that Phyll bought me a four-million-dollar jewelry set because it's real. And hey, don’t say I never helps you keep peace at home. Here, take these freebie earrings back to Sabrina later, like always.”
Her words hit me like a bucket of ice water.
Four years of marriage, and Phyll had never once spent a full anniversary with me.
Every time we were about to go out, Barbara would call, saying she was sick or had sprained her ankle. And Phyll would drop everything with no hesitation. Later, he’d bring me some cheap pair of earrings or a ring as “compensation.”
I told myself to be understanding since Barbara once even praised me in front of everyone, calling me generous, telling Phyll he should make it up to me.
But now I see. Even the “make-up gifts” were just her leftovers.
Barbara walked into the fitting room, and within seconds, she tossed lingerie over the curtain straight into Phyll’s face.
“Phyll, I can't put them on! Get in here and help me before I freeze!”
The others burst into laughter.
“Phyll, Barbara said earlier you’d be the one putting on every single piece she tries today. Better get in there now!”
“Knock it off,” Phyll chuckled, but his legs carried him straight into the fitting room without hesitation.
As the door swung open, I caught a glimpse of Barbara’s bare, tanned shoulders before he pulled her into his arms and quickly slammed the door, shielding her from any eyes but his.
Soon, her playful scolding drifted through the door. “Can’t even button it right. What are you sniffing for?”
“Wait, did you change perfume? That’s not what you wore yesterday.”
The friends outside whooped and hollered like it was a wedding night prank.
Even the store clerk turned beet red, probably never having seen something so shameless.
Beside me, my brother’s forehead pulsed with rage. He was ready to storm in and drag them both out, but I clutched his arm tight.
“Scott, that store’s cameras. They’ve got audio too, right?”
He gave a stiff nod.
