Chapter 3

I looked up and thought about it. I suppose he was.

Years ago when he'd accidentally eaten cilantro, I'd taken care of him for three days and nights.

After that, even though I loved cilantro, it never appeared in our home again.

But so what?

Ancient history.

I removed the cilantro and suggested calmly.

"Mr. Harrington, there's a lot of cooking fumes in the kitchen. You can wait outside."

But he stubbornly stayed by my side, as if trying to prove something.

Suddenly, his phone rang.

The lock screen showed a photo of Lucas and Veronica kissing deeply by the ocean.

He declined the call and explained frantically.

"Veronica doesn't believe in marriage, but she... wanted to take wedding photos. As a good friend, I helped her out."

I said nothing, just stared at the photo in a daze.

When Lucas and I got married, he was poor.

Back then, we couldn't afford wedding photos at all.

Later, I emptied my savings to support his startup, and gradually our life improved.

I'd mentioned more than once that we should take wedding photos.

But every time, his face would turn cold, his tone full of impatience and mockery.

"Can't you be more sensible? I'm busy from morning to night, and you want to waste time on this useless stuff!"

"Can a stupid photo feed us? Can it guarantee stability? Stop being unreasonable."

I thought he was just a straight guy who didn't understand romance.

Now I realize his romance simply never belonged to me.

I felt sorry for myself, but also grateful this wasn't three years ago.

Otherwise, I'd be spiraling into sleepless nights of overthinking again.

Lucas, seeing my silence, was about to say something.

Just then, the sound of the door opening rang out.

Veronica walked in brazenly.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?"

When her eyes swept over me, she covered her mouth dramatically, feigning shock.

"Is this... Zara? Oh my God, how did you age into this?"

She looked me over with disgust, finally fixing on my sweatshirt with a derisive snort.

"Zara, even if you can't afford designer clothes, you don't have to wear such obvious knockoffs, do you?"

I glanced down at the T-shirt. It was indeed a terrible fake.

But this was a birthday gift from my son, saved from half a month's allowance.

That gesture was more precious than anything.

I had no interest in arguing with her and prepared to bring out the food to finish this job.

But she followed me into the kitchen.

"How about you pick out some of my clothes?"

"He's got plenty of mine here."

"You don't know this, but these past few years when he's been lonely, I've been the one keeping him company."

I knew she was provoking me.

And Lucas said nothing, seemingly waiting for my reaction.

Three years ago, I would've torn into her.

But now, I just felt disgusted.

I spoke flatly.

"You mean that pile of lingerie?"

"No thanks. I don't have the habit of wearing slutty things like that in front of random men."

Veronica turned red with fury, looking ready to fight me.

But Lucas held her back.

"Eat!"

Veronica pouted and picked through the food.

The next second, she dumped everything she didn't like straight onto Lucas's plate.

"I don't like these. You eat them."

I thought Lucas wouldn't eat them.

After all, he was a germaphobe.

In the past, forget about food from my plate—even a single bite left by our son would make him wrinkle his nose in disgust and call it dirty.

But right now, he ate every bit of what Veronica had pushed over, bite by bite, without the slightest reluctance.

So his so-called germaphobia had always only applied to our son and me.

I pulled at the corner of my mouth and brought out the last bowl of soup to the table.

From my angle, I could see Veronica sliding her foot onto Lucas's leg.

That foot slowly pressed against the bulge between his legs.

And Lucas naturally thrust his hips forward, holding her foot in place.

I'd tried that move once before.

But Lucas had shoved me away and cursed me for being unhygienic.

Now...

Noticing my gaze, embarrassment flashed across Lucas's face.

As if remembering something, he pulled her even closer.

I lowered my head and smiled. Whether he was testing me or showing off, it meant nothing to me anymore.

This time, I spoke first.

"Six hours are up. My service ends here."

"Enjoy your meal."

I got up to leave. Lucas suddenly stood, his voice hoarse and expectant.

"Zara, tomorrow is our son's birthday."

"I... I want to celebrate with him. Is that okay?"

At the mention of our son, my heart ached.

Apparently, he still didn't know our son had passed away.

Seeing my silence, he continued.

"Zara, can you stop being so stubborn?"

"You left that divorce agreement and disappeared with our son while pregnant. I'm letting that go."

"But I'm still the kids' father. Do you really plan to hide them forever?"

"Let me... let me reunite with my two children."

His words actually calmed me down.

He really should kneel before those two children's graves in repentance.

"Fine. Tomorrow at nine AM. Meet me at the cemetery."