Chapter 24
Calista saw a man on the couch, pinning a woman beneath him as he kissed her. Both of their suit jackets had fallen to the floor, tangled together.
Calista never believed in the idea of doing something reckless because of alcohol. To her, that was just a convenient excuse for something already planned.
She stormed into the mansion like a madwoman and yanked Lucien away. His blue shirt was already stained with Ophelia’s lipstick.
Ophelia showed no sign of fluster when she saw Calista. Instead, she sat up as if she had every right to be there. She straightened her clothes, a trace of annoyance in her eyes.
“Ophelia, do you have no shame? How can you so blatantly go after someone else’s husband?”
As Calista screamed at her, Ophelia slapped her across the face. “Watch your tone, Calista! Who do you think you are? Just because you’re the Marchands‘ biological daughter, it doesn’t mean that you can yell at me like that. You’re nothing!
“If one slap isn’t enough to calm you down, I’d be happy to give you another.”
That night, Calista didn’t sleep. She sat by Lucien’s bed, quietly wiping her tears from her face until morning.
When Lucien woke up, she confronted him, her eyes red–rimmed. “I went to Paradise Club last night to look for you. Why didn’t you answer my calls?
“I told you not to call me unless it’s urgent. If you have something to say, wait until I get home.”
Lucien pulled off his shirt and saw the lipstick stain, but didn’t care. He tossed it onto the bed.
Calista grabbed a pillow and threw it at his back. She burst into tears. “You don’t want me to call because I might interrupt you and Ophelia, right? Lucien, how could you treat me like this? I’m your wife!”
Lucien stepped up to her, his gaze sharp and icy. “Stop this madness and get out,” he ordered.
“Do you have any idea that I waited outside the club for you for three hours last night? I called you many times, but you didn’t answer and didn’t reply to my messages.
“Lucien, do you even see me as your wife? If I mean nothing to you, then why did you marry me in the first place? I’m going to tell
Grandma. I want a divorce!”
Lucien barely reacted. “Our marriage is nothing but a profitable transaction. Do you understand? Get out!”
“I’m not going anywhere! Lucien, even if you have another woman outside, why would you bring her home? Why would you do something like that on the couch I bought?”
Lucien’s gaze turned cold as he gripped her chin. His well–built upper body filled her view when he leaned in slightly.
“Aside from this marriage, nothing about the Fenwick family concerns you. Calista, know your place as Mrs. Fenwick. Don’t interfere
in matters that aren’t yours to touch, and don’t ask questions you have no right to ask. You’re not the only one who wants this position.
#1
He then shoved her aside! Calista fell onto the bed, completely disheveled, looking like a pathetic fool.
To be fair, Lucien hadn’t actually done anything inappropriate with Ophelia at the Juniville estate.
But two years later, on the day they decided to divorce, Calista caught them together once again. She had long lost all hope and feelings for this marriage. It wasn’t until she lost the child she was carrying that Calista finally woke up.
Lucien had feelings, but they were never for her.
Now, she no longer asked for Lucien’s love. All she wanted was for Anthony and his family to stay safe.
Calista slept fitfully that night, lost in a haze. She dreamed of a girl wearing a pink dress, looking much like her. Her eyes were large, and she had a sweet face.
The girl said, “Mommy, don’t be sad. Someday, I’ll come back and be your baby again. Be happy every day, Mommy. Goodbye!”
Calista woke up in the pitch–dark room, tears streaming down her face, and her chest aching as if it were being crushed. She sat on the bed, clutching her chest in pain while her tears soaked into the blanket.
“I’m sorry… It’s all my fault. I didn’t protect you…”
She knew that she wasn’t a good mother.
Calista sat numbly on the balcony like a soulless puppet. She stayed there all night until morning, watching the sun rise.
A faint sound from the room next door pulled her back to reality. She snapped out of her thoughts and wiped her tears. When she stood up, her vision went dark, and she nearly lost her balance.
Holding her spinning head, she slowly walked to the bathroom. She turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. As she looked up at her haggard reflection in the mirror, she felt as if she had aged several years in an instant.
She told herself, “Calista, don’t let yourself be this pathetic again.”
Her hair was a mess, and her eyes were swollen and dry from crying all night.
She tied up her long hair and tidied up quickly, then headed downstairs to prepare breakfast for Lucien. The housekeeper wasn’t around, so she had to handle things herself.
Right before Lucien’s usual time to leave for work, Calista put on an apron and made a plate of pancakes. She kept the seasoning light, just the way he liked it. Then she brewed a cup of hand–ground coffee for him and set it on the table.
After she finished preparing everything, Lucien appeared in a gray shirt, looking elegant and composed. He had a suit jacket draped over one arm and a briefcase in the other hand.
Calista said, “There wasn’t much left in the fridge, so I just made you some pancakes.”
Lucien handed her his jacket and briefcase. She took them from him and placed them on the dining table.
Lucien’s expression tightened as he glanced at the plate of pancakes. Calista knew that he preferred Westlian breakfast, but she didn’t know how to make it.
She lowered her eyes as she nervously tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “If you don’t like it, I can make something else.” Lucien checked his watch. His tone was calm as he said, “No need. I’m in a hurry.”
Just then, Ophelia walked in dressed in a fitted business dress. “Lucien, ready to go?”
She held a plastic bag containing breakfast.
Lucien took a sip of coffee as if he were doing Calista a favor. “I’m not coming back tonight. Don’t wait up.”
“Okay.”
Calista picked up the plate, her expression blank. She walked into the kitchen and dumped it straight into the trash.
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