"Willard, about the house. Do you have something to tell me?"
I stared at his profile, giving him one last chance. Unfortunately, he avoided my gaze and replied flatly, "No, isn't it all up to you?"
I lowered my eyes, my heart sinking completely.
He was still pretending and unwilling to tell me even a single truth. Even at this point, if he were willing to tell the truth, I might still ... no, it's impossible now.
I clenched my fists. So, this was the ruthless trampling I had fought so desperately to earn.
Willard seemed to notice something, rubbing his nose guiltily. He must be thinking that I must have found out and was giving him the cold shoulder on purpose. Then, he would coax me a bit after we got married.
Right next to the flower shop was a furniture store. I walked straight inside and saw that the walnut dining table I had ordered was ready.
Just as I was about to pay, a sweet, high-pitched voice sounded from behind me. "Willard? Didn't you say you'd come with me today to pick out a crystal chandelier?"
Why was she again?
Jolene saw me and exaggeratedly covered her mouth. "Oh, Cynthia? I'm so sorry, I have bad eyesight, I didn't see you."
"Wait, are you here for furniture, too? By the way, this store's crystal chandeliers are gorgeous, perfect for a big flat! Willard even mentioned wanting to install one in my new place last time!"
My fingers curled inward one by one. Willard had already found Jolene a new place, while I, foolishly clinging to an empty shell he had long sold off, was still waiting for an explanation.
Jolene picked up a brochure. "Cynthia, look at this one. It's imported from Italy. It would look amazing in the entryway!"
I took a step back, avoiding the brochure she was offering me. "No, thanks. I've already made my choice. You two take your time."
That girl froze for a second, her eyes instantly welling up with tears as if she had been deeply wronged. "Do you ... not want me here? Then I'll just leave."
Willard grabbed Jolene's hand as he said, "Why are you leaving? This has nothing to do with her."
He turned and glared at me. "Cynthia, Jolene will be our family from now on. Can you please be more polite to her? Don't bring your outside attitude home!"
I was stunned. Family? What kind of family? How did I, the lady of the house, not know about this?
Then I thought about it. If Willard could sell our shared home without a second thought, why would he need my permission for anything else?
"She's only good at playing those little mind games with you. If you want to leave, just leave. Why make such a big scene out of it?"
They both froze, clearly not expecting my bluntness. Jolene looked so hurt that she was on the verge of tears. "Fine, I'll leave now. I won't bother you anymore."
But Willard held her even tighter. "Cynthia, we're about to get married. Can't you act a little more mature?"
"From the engagement till now, have you ever given me a single day of warmth? And now you're dragging Jolene into this, too?"
Jolene tugged at him softly from the side, yet pressed closer against him. "Willard, don't say anymore."
Alas, Willard's emotions completely exploded.
"I'm going to say it! I've had enough! Cynthia, keep acting up! Don't let this petty nonsense tear open your old wounds again. Don't blame me for not warning you when it happens!"
The store fell silent instantly. Those sales assistants awkwardly lowered their heads to tidy merchandise.
My heart felt like it had been tossed into an ice cave. Hence, in Willard's eyes, my scar was just a tool for attention-seeking tantrums.
How could I foolishly hope he'd kept his old promises close to his heart? Just as the scar remained etched on my skin.
