Chapter 2
577words
I hit answer.
"Hello?" Victoria's voice came through, a car engine purring to life in the background. "If I remember correctly, today's our anniversary, right?"
"Mm." I kept it brief.
"Something important came up and I can't get away, so I won't be home tonight." Her tone was businesslike, as if addressing an employee. "I had Mrs. Wang bring down some cake. It's that durian flavor you like. Don't wait up."
"Fine," I replied flatly. "Enjoy your work."
A beat of silence followed.
My blunt response had clearly caught her off guard.
Usually, I'd whine and beg, asking when she'd be back, if she could come home earlier, if she could spare me just a little time.
"You…" she hesitated. "Nothing else to say?"
I had plenty to say. Too much, in fact.
I swallowed hard, my throat constricting: "From now on—"
"Alex, over here!" Victoria's voice suddenly rose, a hint of panic threading through it. She was clearly calling to someone else.
"Gotta run! Be good!" The call cut off abruptly, leaving only the dial tone buzzing in my ear.
The words "from now on I won't bother you anymore" died in my throat, swallowed back down like bitter medicine.
I clutched my phone until my knuckles went white. Alexander Foster. Of course it was him.
For five years, I'd never been Victoria's first choice.
For her birthday last year, I'd secretly worked construction for a month straight, saving every penny to buy a silk scarf she'd once admired.
I waited in the biting cold until midnight, that damn scarf clutched in my frozen hands.
When she finally showed up, she was wearing Alexander's coat. She glanced at the scarf and wrinkled her nose. "Where'd you find that cheap thing? It reeks."
Days later, I found the scarf tossed in a box of junk the housekeeper had sorted for donation.
When her father collapsed and was rushed to the hospital, it was Alexander who stood by her side, coolly making calls to specialists and arranging a private suite.
Meanwhile, I huddled on a plastic chair in the corner like the useless waste I was supposed to be. The few glances she threw my way were filled with nothing but irritation and disgust.
Even when our daughter Lily first said "Daddy," she was reaching for Alexander, who was holding her.
Victoria stood beside them, laughing delightedly, praising Lily for being "such a clever girl."
She knew exactly what she was doing all along.
I just loved her too damn much. Loved her enough to blindfold myself, to cover my ears, to explain away every red flag as "she's under pressure" or "she needs Alexander's connections."
Until I saw it with my own eyes. Heard it with my own ears.
That veil of self-deception was ripped to shreds.
I dug up the number I'd blacklisted five years ago and hit call.
"Hello?" The voice on the other end was wary.
"Brother…" My voice cracked.
After a moment of stunned silence, the voice exploded: "Ethan? Jesus Christ, where have you been for five years?! Do you have any idea how worried we've been?"
"Nathan, I want to come home."
"Where are you? I'll come get you right now!"
"Give me five more days." I stared at the date circled in red on my calendar. "I have some loose ends to tie up."
After a pause, he didn't press. "Alright. I'll be waiting."
