Clifford helped Janet up with aching tenderness, his expression darkening.
"Hailey, what do you think you're doing? Bullying my Janet on purpose, right in front of me?"
I couldn't stop sneezing, tears streaming down my face, barely able to get out a full sentence.
The postpartum nurse rushed over, frantic.
"Mrs. Sanchez, let me get your allergy medicine right away!"
She shot Clifford a reproachful look and quickly threw the flowers out.
Clifford blinked, only then remembering that I was severely allergic to lilies.
He'd just started toward me when Janet burst into tears and ran for the door.
"This is all my fault. Since I'm not welcome here, I'll go!"
He hesitated, but in the end he still went after her.
"Sweetheart, she's young and headstrong, I can't just leave her be. I'll come see you once I've calmed her down."
I stared at his back and shook my head with a bitter smile.
Clifford, I don't need your concern anymore.
Once the medicine kicked in, my symptoms eased a lot.
Janet sent me a photo of Clifford buried against her collarbone, her tone taunting.
【Hehe, so what if I made you break out on purpose? Mr. Sanchez couldn't even bring himself to scold me once.】
Calmly, I pressed the phone dark and didn't respond.
In the past, whenever I caught Clifford cheating, he'd cut it off clean with the other woman immediately.
But this time, the patience and tenderness he showed his little secretary Janet had crossed every line he'd ever kept before.
I gathered up my daughter, soft as a lump of dough, my voice very quiet.
"Baby, from now on, we don't want him anymore."
After that, I refused to see Clifford when he came to visit, and wouldn't even pick up his video calls.
Under the nurse's care, my body recovered quickly.
The day I went home, Clifford canceled an international meeting and came to pick me up himself.
Janet wasn't with him.
Clifford smiled and pinched my cheek.
"Sweetheart, your temper's really grown. You actually gave me the silent treatment for over twenty days."
"Last time really was my fault. From now on I'll be more attentive, put you first."
"Don't freeze me out anymore, okay? When I can't see you and our daughter, I can't even sleep."
Our daughter watched Clifford, waving her little hands with delight.
Clifford's gaze went even softer.
But I carried our daughter past him and got straight into the car.
The whole way, I stared quietly out the window and didn't say a word more to him.
When we got home, I walked into the living room. Gail Lambert, the housekeeper, had just come forward to greet me when Janet's simpering voice rang out.
"Sis, welcome home to you and the baby!"
She was wearing a camisole and shorts, sitting on the sofa binge-watching a show and snacking.
Everything about the way she settled in, easy and practiced, as though she were the lady of this house.
She giggled and picked up a piece of fruit.
"Sis, no need to look around. I've been living here this whole time, keeping Mr. Sanchez company."
"He's a full-blooded man, after all. How could he go night after night with no one to warm the bed?"
"But don't worry, I wore Mr. Sanchez out all by myself. He hasn't had time to go looking for anyone else."
"Sis, shouldn't you be thanking me?"
I turned around and looked steadily at Clifford.
"So this is what you meant by not being able to sleep without me and our daughter?"
Clifford's eyes landed on Janet, and he curved his lips with a helpless little smile.
"The girl's so clingy, I couldn't chase her off no matter what, so I just let her stay."
"Honestly, she really is quite endearing."
My chest seized all at once, and in silence I carried our daughter into the nursery.
The moment I stepped in, I froze where I stood.
In the corner of the room sat a brand-new piano, and beside it stood the photo Clifford and I had taken abroad ten years ago.
Younger, softer, I stood in front of the camera holding Clifford Sanchez's hand tight, my eyes crinkling with a smile.
Then a warm embrace closed around me from behind, and Clifford lazily tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
"I knew you'd love it."
"From now on, you can play the piano for our daughter in this room, all right? Maybe we'll raise a musical genius."
In an instant, my mind was dragged back into the past.
Ten years ago, I met Clifford for the first time in France.
It had been pouring rain that day. I'd just failed an exam and gotten word that my father had died back home, and while I was still reeling, someone snatched my backpack right off me.
I couldn't catch the stranger who'd stolen it. In my panic I forgot every word of French I knew, and I broke down sobbing alone in the downpour.
