I slammed the bedroom door, the sharp bang startling them both, freezing the pair outside for just a moment. The silence that followed was short-lived.
With no other choice, I shoved in my earplugs, willing my mind to shut down as I fought for sleep.
The next morning, Aunt Nori stood frozen in the doorway, her gaze fixed on the near-destroyed sofa and carpet. The destruction was undeniable, but I’d already made up my mind.
"Throw them out," I instructed, my voice cold and decisive. "We don’t need a sofa or carpet in the living room anymore."
That night, I was woken once again by the sound of their shameless actions. I reached out beside me, but the space was empty; Vernon was gone.
It felt so familiar, like a nightmare on endless repeat.
I stepped out, already dreading what I might find. And there it was. The dining table is now their new stage. I couldn't believe my eyes.
This crossed a line.
Without a second thought, I hit pause on whatever twisted show they were putting on.
"Hey, big brother, big sister," I called out, my voice dripping with cold sarcasm. "Why not take it to the bedroom? If the guest rooms are too cramped, you can always use my master bedroom. I’ll sleep in the guest room from now on."
I didn’t wait for an answer. "This is where I eat. Could you at least show some basic decency?"
Maybe it was my sudden intrusion, but the moment I spoke, both of them lost their enthusiasm.
"Eloise, you just had a miscarriage, and now you won’t even let me help Vernon?" Riley snapped, frustration dripping from her every word. "Do you want him to hold it in until he breaks down?"
I bit back my anger and tried to explain, my voice quiet and steady. "I never said you couldn’t help him, but could you at least do it somewhere other than my house?"
Riley's eyes narrowed, and she put on her usual act, a sickly-sweet mask of concern. "Vernon only came back to care for you after your miscarriage, and this is how you repay him? No gratitude?"
"I appreciate his concern," I replied, "but I don’t need it. Now, please, leave. Immediately."
The slap came fast and hard; his hand cracked across my face, a sting that left me breathless.
"This is my house," Vernon said coldly, his voice unyielding. "I’ll stay as long as I want. You don’t get to decide."
I froze, the words sinking in. He was right. This was his house. What power did I have to oppose him?
Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked out, each step echoing with the weight of defeat.
At two in the morning, the late-autumn streets stood eerily still, the air thick with an unsettling silence. A bitter wind sliced through my lace nightgown, causing me to shiver uncontrollably.
I sank down onto the bench at the bus stop, my eyes following the dead leaves as they danced across the empty road. Tears started to fall without my permission, hot and endless.
No phone. No money. No place to go.
My body, still recovering from the miscarriage, was weak, and before long, dizziness swept over me. Darkness swallowed me whole.
When I woke, I was back at the Hamilton residence, the room warm and familiar yet distant. That same figure, so familiar and distant, was standing beside me.
"Sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you last night," Vernon said, his voice low, breaking the silence.
"I’ve already ordered new furniture for the living room."
"The Mason Group heiress is getting married the day after tomorrow. Come with me to the banquet."
"What about Riley?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"There will be plenty of business tycoons there. Riley’s my executive secretary, so she has to attend," Vernon replied matter-of-factly, his tone unemotional.
"Then I—" I hesitated, ready to refuse, but he interrupted me before I could finish.
"You are my wife. Your status is different. You must attend."
I had no choice but to agree.
At the wedding banquet, the three of us arrived together.
Riley, ever the attention-seeker, wore a gown far more extravagant than mine, practically glued to Vernon’s side.
I used to be the one standing next to him at events like this, but now, Riley had taken that place, and to everyone around us, she was the one who seemed to hold the title of Mrs. Hamilton.
"President Hamilton, long time no see. When will we have a chance to collaborate?" President Landers greeted Vernon with a smile.
"President Landers, good to see you. Let’s arrange a drink sometime," Vernon responded with the same polite smile.
"And this must be the famously beautiful Mrs. Hamilton?" The question hung in the air, a subtle sting in its words.
