Angela lay back on the bed, her mind racing as she calculated everything.
Twelve years of care and support. That was how long Oliver supported and took care of her.
The house, the car, tuition, living expenses, gifts...
The house had been bought by Oliver. She planned to sell it, though it had appreciated quite a bit. It was all just accrued interest.
Then there were the costs of Nala and its upkeep, not to mention the burial plots in Springfield City. For her convenience, Oliver had purchased three plots for her family, setting up tombstones in their honor.
As the only heir of the Watson family, all these expenses were hers to bear.
She sighed and rubbed her swollen, tired eyes, sinking back onto the bed. She had just finished organizing the bills when her phone buzzed.
It was a message from Gwen.
[Angela, why didn't you like my post? Don't you like me?]
Angela opened the message and saw that Gwen had posted again.
A nine-square grid filled with intimate and flirtatious pictures of her with Oliver, and in the center, there was a photo of Gwen sniffing the flowers she had just picked.
The caption read: [Thanks for the feeling of being loved.]
Angela didn't feel like liking it. But, at this point, it didn't matter to her.
She swiped her finger across the screen and, following Gwen's intentions, tapped the red heart.
Then, Gwen added: [Gosh, I'm so tired... I need to sleep now. Oliver said he'll take me to the venue for our wedding tomorrow. In less than half a month, it'll be the wedding date. Oliver and I will be busy, so take care of yourself, Angela.]
Angela replied briefly: [I will.]
Staring up at the ceiling and lost in thought, she asked, 'They're getting married?'
The wish she had been waiting to be answered for all these years... and Gwen had managed to get it in less than a month.
It wasn't about timing. It was because Oliver never loved her.
She grabbed her phone again, opening the calendar.
The cemetery had told her she needed to pick an auspicious day to move the tombstone. The closest available date was fourteen days away. Coincidentally, it was the anniversary of her loved one's passing.
In the following days, Oliver traveled with Gwen to various places on a business trip.
Meanwhile, Gwen kept up with her constant updates on social media, tagging Angela in posts as if seeking her approval.
Angela, on the other hand, breathed a sigh of relief. After changing the bedroom door lock, she began organizing her things, silently preparing for whatever came next.
When Oliver returned, his frown deepened at seeing the truck parked in front of the house.
"Uncle, you're back?" Angela poked her head out from the second-floor balcony to greet him, quickly kicking the suitcase behind her into her room.
"What’s going on here?" Oliver asked, his tone sharp as he gave her a quick look before heading upstairs.
"Uncle, I told you the other day," Angela began, stepping carefully down the stairs. "The solarium... I don’t want it anymore."
Oliver stopped in his tracks, a brief flicker of surprise crossing his face before he walked toward her.
Angela retreated toward the door, her hands instinctively behind her back, gently pulling it shut as he reached her.
His towering figure loomed over her, and for a second, she felt uncertain.
He extended his hand toward her.
Was he trying to enter her room?
In the past, he used to come and go freely. He had even arranged the room himself.
Angela froze, her breath caught in her chest, her wide eyes staring at him.
But instead of stepping in, his long fingers brushed past her ear, and he pointed to the space behind her.
"You’re in my way."
Angela blinked, realizing he wasn't trying to enter her room. He was just... passing by on his way to his own.
She shook herself out of the moment, quickly glancing at her vibrating phone. Then, she headed downstairs after a few moments and ran right into Gwen, who had come in behind her.
"Angela, are those flowers going to be moved to my wedding house?" Gwen asked, a little too cheerfully.
Angela had just received a message from the driver saying someone had stopped them from moving the flowers. So it was Gwen trying to control it all.
She didn't want to give them to her, but Angela sighed and shook her head.
"Since Gwen likes them so much, just move them all over." Oliver, now changed into casual clothes, was descending the stairs slowly, one step at a time.
"Uncle, those are..." Angela started, but he cut her off.
"What are you standing around for? Hurry up and send them over."
Oliver's impatient remark was clear, but his voice had a strange softness as he lovingly looped Gwen's arm through his, pulling her close.
