chapter 5

The living room was a complete disaster. Black footprints mixed with water puddles covered the floor everywhere.

My carefully chosen sofa covers were twisted and wrinkled, with half of them pulled onto the ground.

Used bowls were stacked on the coffee table, surrounded by cookie crumbs of all different sizes.

The more I looked around, the angrier I got. My hands clenched into fists.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Zach ran out grinning, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He was holding my underwear in his hands!

This was way too much!

How could Damien watch this kid and just let him run wild through the house, getting into everything!

I set my things down on the shoe cabinet and rushed over to scoop Zach up, sitting him down on the couch. "Let go! That's mine!"

Rage was building up inside me, but I took a deep breath and forced it down. I couldn't lose it and yell at this bratty kid right now.

When Zach saw the dark look on my face, he froze for a second. Then, he exploded into ear-splitting screams.

"You're so mean! Stop stealing my things! I will punch you!" He was crying and swinging his arms and legs at me.

I was worried he might hit my stomach, so I quickly scooted away from him.

Zach ended up flat on his back, looking like a turtle that had been flipped over.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Damien came rushing over from the balcony with his hands covered in soap suds.

He'd obviously been washing Zach's pants. It was absolutely heartwarming how much he loved Chloe's baggage.

I pointed at Zach, annoyed. "How were you watching him? He trashed the house, went into our bedroom, and pulled my underwear out of the closet to wave around. When I tried to get my stuff back, he called me a bad guy and tried to hit me!"

Damien didn't think it was a big deal. He wiped his hands and picked Zach up to comfort him.

"He's only three years old. That's what kids his age do. You can't expect him to know better. Besides, I don't know how to babysit. If you'd been here helping out, maybe this whole mess wouldn't have happened."

I grabbed my clothes and put them back in the bedroom, then shut the door tight.

Zach stopped crying and settled down on Damien's lap to play. They looked like the perfect father and son.

It made my chest hurt to watch.

Damien loved Chloe's kid so much, but he didn't care about our baby at all.

In my past life, he told me that losing my child and never being able to have another was what I deserved.

But it was really Chloe who'd been showing off in front of me.

She bragged about how much Damien adored Zach and how thoughtful he was with her.

She mocked me for being Damien's wife but never winning his heart.

I was angry and heartbroken. With my emotions all over the place, my stomach started cramping.

I didn't want to fight with her, so I tried to walk around her and leave.

But Chloe grabbed my hand and pressed it against her body, then slipped and fell backward.

She looked terrified and screamed, "Ah! Scarlett, why did you push me!"

I caught the satisfied look in her eyes right before she pulled me down the steps with her.

Damien showed up just in time to see me "push" Chloe. So that was the truth behind what they called "getting what I deserved."

I pulled myself together, went to the kitchen, and poured myself a glass of warm water. Leaning against the doorframe, I said sarcastically, "Kids don't know better, but adults don't either? Commander Grey, you're a grown man, and you can't handle one three-year-old?

"If you can't do the job, don't take it on. You can't watch that kid, you let him trash the house, and then you blame me for not helping? I've heard of people outsourcing their responsibilities to their parents, but I didn't know people could outsource being a simp too!"

In my past life, after I died, my soul wandered around for decades. I saw how the world changed and developed.

In the future, they had a word for men like Damien—"simp." Someone who bent over backward for a woman who didn't care about him.

Not only did he do it himself, but he expected everyone else to join him in kissing up to her.

Of course, Damien had no idea what "simp" meant.

But that didn't stop him from figuring out from my tone that it wasn't exactly a compliment.

His lips pressed into a thin line, and he got all stubborn.

"Scarlett, when did you start being so unreasonable? I've told you before. I help Chloe and her son because of my friendship with Owen. It's not about anything else. Stop making stuff up and ruining Mrs. Spencer's reputation!"

I'd been married to Damien for three years, but we didn't sleep together until three months ago.

That night, Damien came back from Owen's house completely drunk, which was rare for him.

When people were drunk, they told the truth. I heard Damien mumbling Chloe's name with my own ears.

He said he wasn't brave enough back then and deserved to lose Chloe.

Later, I asked around about their history.