After Brittany’s wound was treated, Bryce and Flynn escorted her home.
When they opened the door, dinner was already prepared. Tiffany was busy on the balcony, tending to something with her back to them.
A smug curve tugged at Bryce’s lips. He leaned slightly toward Brittany, who was resting against him, and murmured something.
“See? What did I tell you? Once she leaves this home, where could she possibly go?”
Brittany smiled as well and gave a soft, agreeable hum.
Flynn, following behind them, spotted her mother and finally let out a sigh of relief.
“Mom really went overboard this time,” he said. “Made such a huge fuss, and in the end, she still came back to cook. Dad, I told you—Mom can’t live without us.”
Bryce took his usual seat at the head of the table.
“Go call your mother,” he said casually. “Tell her to come eat. As for what happened earlier…” He paused, waved a hand dismissively. “Forget it. What’s done is done. We’re family—no grudges should last overnight.”
Dinner tasted like ash to Tiffany.
Throughout the meal, Bryce and their son kept serving food to Brittany, chatting and laughing as if nothing had happened earlier. Only Tiffany remained quiet the entire time.
Eventually, Bryce finally looked her way.
“The day after tomorrow, I’m taking Flynn to Hawaii,” he said. “There’s a resort project over there with good prospects. I’ll take him to see it in person. He’s old enough. It’s time he starts getting involved in the family business.”
It wasn’t a discussion. It was a notice.
Flynn’s eyes lit up immediately.
“Really, Dad? That’s amazing! I’ve always wanted to go abroad!” He turned to his mother, brimming with excitement. “Mom, don’t worry. I’ll learn properly from Dad.”
Brittany smiled, too. “Bryce is really thoughtful when it comes to Flynn,” she said warmly. “Flynn, you have to study hard and not disappoint your dad.”
As she spoke, her gaze flickered meaningfully toward Bryce. The two exchanged a look of quiet understanding.
At that point, Tiffany’s fingers curled into her palm.
The three of them really knew how to act. If she hadn’t already known the truth, she might have been fooled completely.
A resort inspection? Hah. It was the wedding they had been planning for ages—the ceremony they couldn’t wait to hold. And they were even taking her son along with them!
Pain surged in her chest, again and again, like a blunt blade sawing through meat.
She was utterly stupid—deceived from start to finish, treated by them as a joke, like a monkey put on a circus.
Head lowered, she poked absently at the vegetable on her plate.
“Mm, I understand,” she mumbled.
Hearing that, all the other three visibly relaxed.
After dinner, they still laughed and chatted, moving into the living room. Meanwhile, Tiffany stood up silently and began clearing the table.
She placed the dishes into the sink one by one.
Warm water ran over the grease. Foam rose and drifted away.
It was just like her thirty-year marriage—polished and respectable on the surface, rotten underneath. All it took was a rinse for the filth beneath to show.
She knew that the day after tomorrow, they would be in Hawaii, under blue skies and beside clear seas, vowing to grow old together.
But this apartment was already listed for sale. She would be gone soon. And they would disappear from her life entirely.
That was fine.
The steady sound of running water drowned out everything else.
That was fine.
On the day the three were set to leave for Hawaii for the wedding, Tiffany woke before dawn.
Thirty years of early mornings to prepare breakfast had long since turned into a habit.
Early that day, Brittany was already fully dressed, wearing a brand-new pale yellow dress that made her look delicate and radiant.
“Good morning, Tiffany,” she greeted with a smile. “Sorry for making you get up so early to make breakfast.”
They sat down together to eat. Then… something went wrong.
Brittany had just finished a soup when her face suddenly drained of color. Cold sweat broke out across her forehead.
“Ah! It hurts! It hurts so bad!” she gasped. “Bryce! My tummy! My tummy really hurts…”
“Brittany!” Bryce rushed to support her, his expression growing worried in an instant. “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”
Flynn also shot to his feet, panic written all over his face. “Auntie! What happened to you?”
“I-I don’t know… It just started all of a sudden… like cramps…”
Tiffany froze, spoon still in her hand.
She looked up at Brittany’s pale face, a bad feeling sinking deep into her gut.
“There must be something wrong with the breakfast!” Flynn blurted out in anger. He pointed at the spread of food on the table, then turned sharply toward his mother. “Mom! Was it you? Did you put something in the food? Just because Aunt Brittany is going to Hawaii with Dad, you’re jealous, you can’t accept it? That’s why you did such a disgusting thing to hurt her?!”
Hearing that, Bryce looked at her, too.
“Tiffany,” he demanded, “was it you?!”
It felt as if she were holding a block of ice against her chest—so cold it made her tremble.
“I didn’t…”
Bryce stood abruptly and crossed the room in a few long strides. His tall frame loomed over her.
“Then why would Brittany suddenly be in pain?!” he roared. “Why today of all fucking days? Why right before we’re supposed to leave, huh?! My god, Tiffany, I really underestimated you. Thirty years—I thought you were just weak and useless. I never imagined your mind could be this vicious!”
In his fury, he swept his arm across the table.
Bowls, plates, salad, soup—everything crashed to the floor. Hot, greasy liquid splashed everywhere. Shards scattered across the tiles.
Tiffany remained seated, unmoving. Porcelain cut into her skin. Blood seeped out. Yet, she didn’t react at all.
Flynn shot her a vicious glare.
“Dad, let’s take Aunt Brittany to the hospital first!”
Soon, the front door slammed shut with such force that the walls seemed to shudder.
Tiffany stared blankly at the mess covering the floor.
That special bowl was broken.
It was the one they had bought when they first got married.
They used it for thirty years.
And now, it was shattered.
Just like their relationship—broken beyond repair.
She didn’t know how much time passed before her phone vibrated.
It was a message from her son.
[Mom, we got Aunt Brittany checked at the hospital. False alarm. Auntie was just having period cramps. The doctor gave her some meds. She’s fine now.]
[Dad said it was getting late, so we went straight from the hospital to the airport.]
[Stay home. You can clean everything up yourself.]
Every line was filled with concern for Brittany.
Not a single word for Tiffany.
She stared at the message for a long time before quietly turning off the screen.
Moments later, it lit up again.
This time, it was a call from Barron.
“Hey, it’s me,” he began. “The apartment sale is complete. Are you free? I just wrapped up a case and finally have some time. How about we go on a trip? Consider it celebrating your regained freedom. My treat.”
Tiffany was silent for a long time, and Barron didn’t rush her. He just quietly waited.
Finally, she took a slow breath.
“Okay.”
Not long after, a message popped up—two plane tickets to Hawaii, departing that afternoon.
His voice carried a faint smile through the receiver.
“Pack your things. I’ll come pick you up right away.”
That afternoon, Tiffany packed everything she owned in that apartment and went to the airport with Barron.
Not long after, the plane climbed into the sky.
She closed her eyes, feeling a sense of lightness spreading through her chest.
Finally, she had said goodbye to everything in her past.
It was time—to begin again and go after a happiness that belonged to her.
