Seeing the sadness on my daughter’s face, a dull ache spread through my chest.
All these years, she had never taken a single photo with Leonard because he didn’t like it. In fact, he outright hated it.
I looked again at Sally’s post. Scrolling down, every single one featured photos of her and Leonard with their daughter.
Every word, every image radiated happiness.
She even tagged me deliberately, just to make sure I saw it.
Turning off my phone, I gently patted my daughter’s head.
“Maybe it’s because... Daddy loves them.”
Leonard loved Sally. That love had been there since his first awakening to romance. It was an affection that I, the one who came later, could never truly surpass.
So even though I was married to him for three years, even though I was gentle, considerate and played the role of the perfect wife and mother, his heart had never opened to me.
“Does Daddy not take pictures with us because he doesn’t love me and Mommy?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came. I didn’t know how to tell my daughter the answer she already feared was true.
Just then, a call came in from an unfamiliar number. I answered and Leonard’s cold voice came through the receiver.
“I’ll send you a location. Go there and bring over the gown Sally prepared.”
“I’m not going.”
Leonard’s tone grew irritated. “Mary, you don’t have the right to say no.”
My heart sank. I lowered my gaze, my eyes landing on the marks beneath my daughter’s collar. It was the scars left from the emergency treatment.
Half a month ago, that night, Sally suddenly had a craving for apple pie. Leonard called me, telling me to make it and deliver it to the Yale Family.
But he never told me that Sally’s daughter was allergic to apples.
So when Sally’s daughter took the box of apple pie from me, I turned and left, without a second thought, without staying.
I never imagined that just one simple action—turning away—would make me the laughingstock of the entire upper class and almost cost my daughter her life.
Even during the two weeks my daughter was in the hospital, fighting for her life, Leonard never visited once. Not a single phone call.
He was right. My position as Mrs. Sutton was taken from Sally. And because of that, I had no right to refuse anything he asked.
The old me would never have dared to say no.
But now, I’m about to return that title of “Mrs. Sutton” to its rightful owner.
I’d already seen the gown he mentioned on Sally’s Instagram post. It was custom-made at an exorbitant price, prepared specially for tomorrow night.
Tomorrow was the Yale Family’s grand banquet. Friends, family and business partners would be arriving in droves. My father and my mother had also decided that night to officially transfer all the Yale Family’s businesses into Sally’s name.
At 3 p.m. the next afternoon, I stood at the gates of Leonard’s private residence, with gown in hand. His assistant blocked my way with a cold expression.
“Mr. Sutton and Miss Yale are busy. He gave strict orders, not to be disturbed by anyone.”
The front door wasn’t fully closed and from inside I could vaguely hear Sally’s delighted moans. Leonard’s voice, hoarse with excitement, followed, calling “honey” over and over again.
I understood. I’d grown numb to this long ago.
Ever since Sally returned, scenes like this had played out in front of me countless times. In the beginning, Leonard brought her back to the very house I shared with my daughter. The bedroom, the kitchen, the balcony, everywhere bore the marks of their late-night passion.
Eventually, I couldn’t take it and fought with him. After that, he bought this separate residence just for him and Sally to enjoy their love freely.
In a month, he spent at least twenty-five days here.
I didn't know how long I had been standing outside when the noises from the living room finally died down.
I pounded my numbed legs lightly and asked the assistant, "Can I go in now?"
He frowned, looking clearly troubled.
Judging by his expression, Leonard and Sally were probably getting ready for a second round.
Just as I was about to put down the gown and leave, Sally suddenly came out and called after me.
