The moment I pushed open the private room door, the once-lively chatter came to a screeching halt.
Heidi was half-leaning against Dexter, her eyes red and watery, like a scene straight out of a bad melodrama.
“Damn, low-class trash always has their little tricks. And such a stench when she walks in. A woman sneered I’d seen twice before. One of those childhood friends who’d grown up alongside Heidi and Dexter. Every time we met, she made sure to remind me how perfect the two of them were for each other.
I had thought Dexter called me here to comfort me after what happened. I never expected a full audience.
I’d thrown a jacket over my loungewear, expecting something quiet, and now every gaze in the room was dragging over me, head to toe.
“If you don’t want to be here, then leave! Sis-in-law isn’t like that, it has to be a misunderstanding!”
To my surprise, the one who spoke up for me was Jordan.
“Sis-in-law? What makes her sis-in-law? Heidi is—”
She shot to her feet, but Dexter’s voice cracked through the room. “Enough!”
Even now, Dexter was still chasing the illusion of having both.
Still hiding the truth. Still pretending he wasn’t already married to Heidi.
What he didn’t know was that Heidi had already lost patience and flaunted it proudly to me through her alternative account.
“Oh, right. If you say it’s just a misunderstanding, then of course it is. My reputation, my twenty years of hard work in art, none of that matters. As long as sis-in-law’s feelings aren’t hurt. Can’t have me spoiling her mood…”
Heidi choked out a sob, tears flowing again, coating the room in a sickening sweetness.
“What exactly do you want? If there’s nothing, I’m leaving.”
The meds were making me lightheaded. Her performance was exhausting. I just wanted out.
“Were those reporters at the venue your doing? Trying to smear Heidi and destroy her art career?”
Dexter’s tone was cold, and his stare even colder. I instinctively pulled my jacket tighter around me.
Heidi leaned closer to him, just enough to brush against his shoulder.
A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips before she quickly masked it with another sob.
“So now I’m the one who forced her to plagiarize my work? Then hired reporters to expose her?”
“I’d never stoop that low, but now that you mention it, not a bad plan.”
Dizzy, my temper snapped.
“Shameless! You’re the one who copied Heidi and bribed the judges! Switched the paintings and fooled everyone into thinking yours was better!”
Heidi’s face twisted.
I let out a low, cold laugh. “What? Even your friend admits your painting’s worse. That’s rough. Art takes talent, after all.”
Her tears soaked half of Dexter’s shoulder as she sobbed pitifully.
“Sister Blythe, I know you’re afraid I’ll steal Brother Dexter, but ever since my family forced us apart, I’ve already let go. Why are you targeting me like this…”
Forced to break up?
Back then, Dexter had flown overseas just to see her one last time.
He waited outside her apartment in the pouring rain, an entire day and night, until he collapsed with a raging fever.
And Heidi? She never spared him a single glance.
Now, all it took was one word, forced, and Dexter, like a loyal dog, had come crawling back.
I let out a long, quiet breath.
There was no point mocking Dexter anymore.
Wasn’t I the same?
I had known full well he still carried scars from his past. And still, I gave him everything.
Seven years standing by him without question.
“What do you want from me?”
“As long as the misunderstanding is cleared up, that’s enough. Sister Blythe, please don’t use tactics like that again. Brother Dexter already has enough betrayal to deal with in the business world.”
Heidi pulled away from Dexter and filled a glass to the brim with strong liquor.
“Drink this, and the matter is over.”
Dexter’s face was cloaked in shadows. I couldn’t make out his expression.
When I didn’t move, Heidi lifted a smaller glass and downed it in one gulp.
“This is my sincerity.” She collapsed dramatically onto Dexter’s arm, feigning a cough.
“Heidi never drinks Look at her now and you’re still playing innocent? Everyone knows how many times you’ve toasted at business dinners with Dexter! Can’t drink a drop now? What kind of act is this?”
I didn’t flinch.
My gaze stayed locked on Dexter, hidden in the dark.
“So you want me to drink too? Apologize to your new lover. Oh, wait. I forgot. Old lover.”
Dexter said nothing.
The others might not have known.
But he did.
Back then, to help him seal deals, I gave up painting and followed him to countless dinners, drinking until I ended up with a bleeding ulcer.
The doctor had warned me: if I drank again, I might lose part of my stomach.
And yet that night, clutching a freshly signed contract, Dexter had knelt by my hospital bed, crying, swearing he’d protect me.
That he’d give me all his love.
All his love?
What a joke.
