Chapter 8

"Nina, where’s all my stuff?"

I froze on the spot.

My body trembled involuntarily.

"What are you doing here?"

Jack was drying his face with a towel.

"I’ve got a key. Why wouldn’t I come home?"

His casual tone and the way he acted like nothing had happened yesterday shocked me.

Barefoot, he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, looking a bit uncomfortable.

"I drank too much last night. Give me a massage, would you?"

I could hardly believe his audacity.

He had a new woman now, yet he still thought he could order me around like before.

I backed away, my face cold.

"Jack Stevens, what are you trying to do?"

Jack hesitated, then resumed his usual soft demeanor.

"Nina, what are you talking about? Come on, help me out."

He reached for my hand, but I pulled away immediately.

A flash of disappointment crossed his eyes, but he quickly covered it up, trying to act nonchalant.

"Oh, I noticed a lot of things missing from the apartment. How about we go shopping later?"

He moved closer, flashing me that boyish grin I used to love.

"You can help me pick stuff out."

Jack raised his eyebrows, still carrying that youthful charm.

It was the look I once adored.

But now, looking at him, all I felt was disgust.

He hadn’t even bothered to wash off Cindy’s perfume.

"Jack, this isn’t your place anymore."

My voice was ice-cold.

"Leave the key and get out."

His lips quivered slightly, a hint of panic creeping into his expression.

"But Nina, you said... you said this was our home."

His skin must be thicker than I imagined.

Suddenly, something clicked in his mind, and he asked, "Is this about Cindy?"