CHAPTER 17: CHAPTER 17: JUST SQUEEZE IN

I said with a blank face, "Do I need your permission to show up in my own home’s walk-in closet?"

Serena’s expression shifted slightly, but she quickly squeezed out a smile and said, "Miss Ellison, you’ve misunderstood me. It’s just that Timothy bought me so many clothes when we were abroad this time, I’m afraid they won’t all fit in this closet."

I glanced at the bags, all fancy international brands, and replied coldly, "If it doesn’t fit, just squeeze it in! If two people’s relationship can squeeze in a third party, what’s a few pieces of clothes?"

The smile on Serena’s face was barely holding up; she then looked at the scarf I’d knitted for Timothy, simply tossed it into the trash bin nearby.

She said with hidden meaning, "Rather than squeeze, might as well throw out those outdated things that don’t fit Timothy’s taste."

She continued to sort through the sweaters I’d knitted for Timothy, as if chatting idly, "These things, I really don’t know how they ended up in Timothy’s house. So tacky!"

I thought of Mrs. Ellison and Mr. Ellison talking about this "future sister-in-law," and suddenly Serena’s every move felt ridiculous to me.

I took back all the sweaters and scarves I’d made for Timothy from her hands and said, "If clothes are tacky, at least they can keep a homeless person warm; but if a person is tacky, they’re trash no matter where they go!"

Next week, when she shows up at The Ellison Family with my brother, that trash should finally show its true colors.

I kept searching in the closet for a long time before finally finding the blazer I needed for my interview that afternoon.

And those sweaters and scarves I made for Timothy—I took them all with me.

Just a few steps after leaving the closet, Doris went in, completely admiring as she said to her mom, "Wow, Mom, your clothes are so pretty! This dress looks like something a fairy would wear on you!"

Serena made sure I could hear as she said, "Daddy bought all these for Mommy."

I curled my lips and tossed those ’outdated clothes’—now utterly meaningless to Timothy—into the donation bin at the entrance of the villa.

At this point, I’d rather see a homeless person wear them than Timothy. At least they’d mean something to me!

After donating the clothes and coming back in, Timothy was somehow already in the living room.

When he saw me enter, he spoke first: "Do you have time tomorrow? Let’s go bury our child. I had Jack Sullivan pick a cemetery with good feng shui."

I paused, a bit dazed as I stared at his handsome face.

Was it me who hadn’t slept, or was it him?

Only now does he think of our child.

That day, I stood alone at the graveyard, watching the tiny urn being buried in the earth, never once seeing the child’s father show up.

I forced down the sting in my eyes and asked him, "Didn’t we agree to bury our child on Friday? Why didn’t you come back?"

Timothy’s gaze darkened slightly and he said coolly, "Something came up overseas and delayed me."

I scoffed, "Something overseas? Was it treating Serena’s dog for diarrhea?"

Timothy’s face turned a shade darker, "It wasn’t that."

"Ha, Timothy, why don’t you take a look at how fake you are right now?"

I gazed at the face that once made me fall so hard, now filled with disappointment. "Serena’s X posts spelled it out clear as day. What’s the point in denying it? We’ve come this far, do I still deserve your trouble to lie to me?"

Saying that, I didn’t want to look at him another second and walked straight to my own room.

After a few steps, I remembered something. I turned back and said to him, "My child is already buried, you don’t need to bother. From now on, your only child is Doris!"

Back in my room, I sat with my feelings a long time before I could finally calm down.

...

Luckily, this little episode in the morning didn’t affect my mood for the afternoon interview—I think I did fine.

The interview result was posted on Zenith Media’s website two days later. I was hired, on six months probation.

This was the only thing that made me happy in this whole period.

Early on my official first day at work, I heard the sound of crying in the villa.

Turns out, it was Doris’s first day at kindergarten, but the little girl absolutely refused to go.

Timothy coaxed her kindly, even hugging her and patiently comforting her.

This always-cold man only ever shows this gentle, pampering side in front of Serena and her daughter.

I smirked to myself.

When I passed by them, Timothy’s eyes landed on me, as if with a trace of confusion.

After all, thanks to him messing up my job, I hadn’t left so early for a long time.

So seeing me in a business suit, with light makeup today—he was a bit surprised.

Nanny Lowell spotted me heading out and asked with concern, "Madam, is there something urgent you’re going out so early for?"

"Mm, just have something to handle."

I answered perfunctorily, not wanting Timothy to know I’d found a new job.

At 7:50, I reported to HR at the company on time, and they sent me to see the department director.

But I never expected the news director at this media company would be my college roommate, also my four-year rival—Victoria Monroe.

Back then, all through college, she and I were always number one and two in our major.

At graduation, I actually won our program’s only spot for guaranteed graduate study, but in order to marry Timothy, to fulfill his mother’s wish for grandchildren, I gave it up.

After that, the spot went to Victoria Monroe.

Even now, I still remember the way she looked at me, shocked and full of disdain.

It was as if she was saying, ’What a lovesick idiot!’

But in the four years since graduation, I’ve been wrecked by a tragic marriage, while my rival did the news reporter job I’d dreamed of and even became my direct boss.

Reality really is cruel and ironic.

While I was lost in thought, Victoria suddenly spoke, her tone dripping with sarcasm: "Why? Marriage not working out? Husband stopped giving you money, so he drove you out to work?"