After washing the dishes, I returned to my room to rest. For once, my father showed some concern.
"By the way, how are the wedding preparations coming along? Even though it's a matrilocal marriage, we can't be careless—it's your lifelong event, after all."
I smiled wryly. "What's there to prepare? Just send this worthless life to the Winslow family and be done with it. Unless... you're planning to prepare a dowry for me?"
"Don't be ridiculous. The Winslows could snap off a single strand of leg hair, and it'd be thicker than your old man's waist. Even if I scraped together a dowry, would your father-in-law even glance at it?"
"But speaking of which, wasn't this supposed to be a temporary arrangement? Since when is it a 'lifelong event'?"
He froze—realizing he'd slipped up. He never actually planned to bring me back.
"Ahem, yes, it is temporary. I'll get you home as soon as possible. But since we're holding a wedding, we still shouldn't cut corners."
I didn't press further. Outside, thunder rumbled—rain was coming.
My chest tightened. Tonight would be another sleepless night.
Three years ago, Lucian claimed his room was leaking and forced me to swap with him. To this day, my father never bothered to fix the roof.
After all, it was only my room that leaked. No one cared.
Noticing the gloom in my eyes, my father slapped his forehead dramatically.
"Ah, damn my memory! I keep saying I'll get someone to fix the roof, but it slips my mind every time. Getting old, I guess."
"Your brother probably won't be back tonight. Sleep in his room. I promise I'll get it fixed tomorrow."
"No need. It's been leaking for three years. What's the point of fixing it now, with just three days left?"
From Lucian's room, I could see my mother's portrait on the wall.
There was a time when this house had warmth—when I wasn't treated like an outsider.
But after her death, everything changed.
Perhaps because I'd visited Rosalind earlier, she and Lucian couldn't even be bothered to pretend anymore.
At midnight, the two returned in the rain—arms linked, their intimacy suffocating.
I had just drifted off when Lucian's voice jolted me awake.
"Dad! That bastard went into my room! Does he have no shame?"
My father rushed over. "It's pouring outside, and your brother's roof leaks. I thought you weren't coming back tonight—"
Then he noticed Rosalind clinging to Lucian's arm.
Her soaked white blouse clung to her skin, her red lingerie faintly visible.
Before the contract was signed, Rosalind had been publicly dating me. My father had even promised us a grand wedding.
Though he knew everything, the two flaunting their relationship like this—before I'd even left—was too blatant to ignore.
"Son, what's the meaning of this...?"
Lucian didn't care. He'd long treated this house as his personal kingdom.
"Just get him out! Disgusting—what if he dirtied my sheets?"
"This..."
"Make him leave now!"
I waved a hand, signaling I didn't want to put my father in a difficult position, and returned to my own room.
In the hallway, my father's voice carried—despite his hushed tone, the walls were too thin to conceal anything.
"You brat, how could you bring her here?"
"We went to see a movie, and it started raining! What was I supposed to do?"
"Besides, Rosalind's my fiancée. What's the big deal?"
"You still need to get married first! This is improper!"
"Dad, your old-fashioned rules are outdated. Rosalind, go take a shower."
"We're going to bed. Why don't you... make yourself scarce?"
"What? You're sharing a room tonight?"
"Obviously."
