Sevlene’s POV
That night, Cortey didn’t return to the villa.
I sat in front of my mother’s urn, staring at it through the long hours of the night, unable to close my eyes even once.
The next morning, I went straight to the company and handed in my resignation.
My manager looked at me in surprise.
“Why so sudden? You used to love this job more than anything. If it weren’t for your mother’s car accident, you never even took time off.”
The mention of my mother made my nose sting. My throat was dry and hoarse when I answered.
“My mom… has passed away.”
The manager froze for a moment, then sighed softly, offering words of comfort.
When my colleagues heard I was leaving, they all came over to send me off. That was when someone suddenly rushed in with a grin.
“Sevlene, your husband’s here to pick you up.”
The moment the words landed, a chorus of teasing rose around me.
“So that’s why Sevlene suddenly quit while she was doing so well—she’s going home to be a full-time wife?”
“With a husband that rich, handsome, and faithful, being his full-time wife doesn’t sound bad at all. Honestly, I’m kind of jealous.”
Their laughter and envy filled the air, but I couldn’t force even a smile.
They thought my marriage was happy and perfect. Only I knew it was already broken, riddled with cracks too deep to fix.
Hugging a cardboard box of my stuff, I walked to the familiar Maybach parked outside.
Just as I reached to open the passenger door, the tinted window rolled down. My gaze fell directly on Charlee—her body bent low over Cortey’s lap, her chest pressing tightly against him as she rummaged for something.
Cortey’s breathing was heavy, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard. The moment he noticed me, his face stiffened. He hurriedly pushed his so-called daughter aside.
“S-Sevlene. Charlee dropped a hair clip in the car. She was just looking for it.”
Charlee’s cheeks flushed crimson. Her voice trembled, dripping with feigned embarrassment.
“Mrs. McEnroe, I…”
“There’s no need to explain. I won’t misunderstand.” I cut her off coldly, unwilling to watch their stupid performance.
Cortey’s expression shifted. His eyes flicked to the box in my arms, a flicker of something strange crossing them.
“You resigned?”
“Mm. I don’t want to work anymore.” I didn’t bother with more explanation and steered the conversation away. “So, what did you come for?”
“My mother’s birthday is in a few days,” he said, a faint trace of expectation in his tone. “She told me herself to bring you along. She’s never been willing to accept you, but suddenly she’s changing her attitude. I think she’s finally given up trying to split us apart. So, I planned to take you shopping—pick out a gift for her, and also buy you an evening dress for the party.”
At those words, I caught the flash of envy in Charlee’s eyes, so sharp it nearly overflowed.
But I knew better. Edna wasn’t suddenly softening toward me. She was preparing to introduce the city’s finest young ladies to Cortey at her birthday party.
She wanted me there for one reason only—so I could see the difference between me and her son.
Soon after I got into the car, Cortey brought us to the city’s largest shopping mall.
He claimed it was for me, but his gaze trailed Charlee the entire time.
She offhandedly mentioned liking a pair of heels, and Cortey immediately bought every similar pair in the store.
She complained that her bag was uncomfortable to carry, and he ordered every luxury handbag they had in stock, telling her to try them all and pick whichever she liked.
When she grew tired from walking, he fussed over her, buying drinks and even crouching to massage her feet.
Overwhelmed by his gestures, Charlee’s eyes glowed with adoration.
“Daddy… You’re so good to me.”
Cortey looked at her with gentle indulgence.
“You’re my good daughter. If I don’t treat you well, who should I treat well?”
The two of them played their sickening little game of “father and daughter,” oblivious to everyone else.
And I—like a forgotten extra—stood there watching it all.
Swallowing back the ache in my chest, I focused on carefully choosing a gift for Edna, then selecting a cream-white evening dress for myself.
Just as the sales assistant was about to wrap up my dress, Charlee appeared at my side. Her gaze lit up in wonder as she stared at the dress.
“This dress is so beautiful. If I could wear it, it would look amazing on me… Too bad Mrs. McEnroe picked it first.”
Cortey glanced at her, then at me. His expression tightened, caught between us.
“Sevlene, Charlee lost her parents young. She’s suffered a lot, and she’s never had a dress like this before. Why don’t you let her have it? After all, you already have plenty of dresses at home that you’ve never even worn. You can pick one of those instead later.”
I locked eyes with him, my voice steady, each word carved out like stone.
“What I set my eyes on, there’s no reason for me to give it up.”
With that, I folded the dress neatly, placed it into the bag, and turned to leave—ignoring whatever look might have crossed Cortey’s or Charlee’s faces.
