Hearing the word "dirty," a sharp pain stabbed my heart.
Memories of being tormented by villains on the island instantly resurfaced, filling me with terror.
I instinctively looked toward Dario.
But Cecilia, who had just walked over, blocked my view. She took Jerry from Dario's arms without asking.
While soothing the child with practiced ease, she turned to me with regret in her eyes and said, "Madam, I'm truly sorry. Jerry is still young. Please don't take his words to heart."
Dario, who had been quietly observing me, finally spoke up to mediate, "Valerie, take Irene upstairs to rest first. Also, don't take Jerry's words to heart."
My throat felt tight and sour and I couldn't help but smile bitterly inside.
After seven years apart, in his eyes I'd become this petty, mean woman.
Dario pushed me upstairs. Once back in the room, I immediately gave Irene and myself a hot bath.
Opening the wardrobe, I found it starkly empty except for two guest pajamas hanging inside.
Suddenly, I felt like an unwanted outsider—at least in this household, I was clearly not welcome.
That night, Dario made a token appearance in our room to say goodnight.
As he turned to leave, I wrapped my arms tightly around his chest from behind, my voice soft and tempting, "Stay, please?"
Dario froze for a moment, then the click-clack of high heels echoed outside the door.
He immediately pushed my hands away and refused, "Not tonight. I'm afraid you're too tired."
His cool fingertips brushed my cheek. I smiled faintly, pretending nothing had happened.
Cecilia passed by the doorway, her eyes flashing with seething jealousy as she glanced at us.
"Sir, Jerry is looking for you. He wants you to tell him a bedtime story."
"Alright, I'll be right there."
With that, Dario withdrew his hand, gave me a faint smile and left.
Later that night, I heard the cheerful laughter of Dario and Cecilia drifting from Jerry's room.
Holding my daughter close in the spacious bed, a bitter ache lingered in my heart, refusing to fade.
I was clearly Dario's wife, yet through the long night, he was keeping another woman company.
I lay awake all night. The next morning, I woke to the sound of dogs barking downstairs.
After breakfast, Irene rushed impatiently to the garden to see the dog.
Jerry was walking the Black dog and shot Irene a disgusted glare, "Get lost! You filthy thing, don't block my path with Black!"
With that, he slammed the frisbee he was holding hard onto Irene's head.
It made Irene cry out in pain, so I rushed out to hug and comfort her.
Jerry let Black lunge at us instead, cackling maliciously, "Hahaha, serves you right."
"Black, teach them a lesson!"
The dog, nearly as tall as a person, leapt over us in one mighty bound. Terrified, I screamed and fell to the ground.
"Jerry, stop this nonsense!"
Dario emerged from the house carrying his briefcase. Seeing the disheveled state of Irene and me, he hurried over to help us up.
"Valerie, are you hurt?"
I shook my head. As I rose, I caught sight of several new red marks on his neck.
Jealousy surged like a venomous snake, coiling around my heart until I felt suffocated.
Just as I stood up, Cecilia approached, her back straight and makeup flawless, "Madam, you shouldn't be out walking at this hour."
"Black has a cleanliness obsession. Jerry isn't allowed to have anyone in the garden when he walks the dog every morning."
"Exactly! Dad, hurry up and send them away now."
Jerry haughtily grabbed Dario's large hand.
I expected Dario to at least scold them, but instead, I heard him reprimand me, "Valerie, you're still sick. How could you wander around like this?"
My palm burned fiercely, the hand I'd scraped in the fall now covered in blood.
Clenching my fists, I sneered, "In your eyes, am I now less than an animal?"
Before he could answer, I picked up the flying disc from the ground and slammed it hard onto Black's head.
