chapter 3

They said I stole Dallas's boyfriend.

Then they came at me—slapped me, tried to rip my clothes off.

Charles completely ignored what was happening to me. Instead, he fussed over Dallas. When she started pretending to feel sick, he immediately took her to the hospital, leaving me standing there to deal with the mess alone.

Before they left, I saw Dallas glance at her friends and give them a look.

Then her friends stopped a few drunk guys.

Those men stared at me with a creepy glaze in their eyes and, riding their buzz, tried to touch me.

Dallas's friends blocked my way, saying I needed to be taught a lesson.

They surrounded me. The stench of alcohol and sweat closed in from every direction.

If a passerby hadn't called the cops right then, I honestly don't know what would've happened.

Even now, just thinking about that night made my stomach twist.

"Libby, go get some fruit for Dallas's friends," Charles said. "I heard the store just got a shipment of fancy imported grapes yesterday. They look amazing. Grab a few pounds, wash them up, and bring them out."

I didn't say a word.

Those grapes go for over a hundred dollars a pound.

"It's just a few grapes. Why are you being so stingy?" he snapped. "You're getting those grapes out today! I swear that I'm not letting you keep that miserly attitude."

Stingy?

Charles must've lived the high life for too long. He'd forgotten what he used to be.

Back then, he couldn't even afford the cheap kind, let alone the luxury ones.

Dallas glanced at my stomach with a faint smirk.

"Libby, are you mad at me because of the baby?" she said softly. "It really wasn't planned. I didn't mean for it to happen. I guess I just get pregnant easily."

I knew what she was doing—twisting the knife where it hurt most.

I said nothing.

I didn't want the baby anyway.

Seeing me silent, she added, "I know you don't like this child. But a life is a life. You wouldn't be that cruel, would you?"

Charles frowned and stepped in front of her, glaring at me.

"That's enough, Libby!" he shouted.

"This baby's mine," he said sharply. "And I'm keeping it. Don't you dare try anything. I won't let you!"

He gestured toward the group in the living room. "These are Dallas's friends. Stop making a scene. You're just embarrassing us."

Then, realizing how harsh he sounded, he softened his voice.

"Come on. We're all going to live under the same roof from now on. Don't overreact."

The room went silent.

I looked at him—standing protectively in front of Dallas—and took a deep breath, my eyes gone cold.

I said, "Let's get a divorce.

"That way, I won't have to live under the same roof as them."

Maybe it was the look on my face, but Charles froze.

Dallas blinked, and then sneered at me.

"You're kidding, right? You'd really divorce him over a living arrangement? That's ridiculous."

Charles's face darkened.

"Libby, I've spoiled you too much. That's why you act like this—so childish, so willful! Always throwing around the word divorce every time you don't get your way."

Spoiled me?

I didn't remember ever feeling spoiled.

Back in college, I'd fallen for him at first sight—this hardworking scholarship student everyone pitied. I didn't care what people said. I chased him anyway.

I waited outside his dorm every morning with breakfast. I handed him water when he played basketball.

I gave him gifts on every holiday. I didn't hesitate with fancy watches or fresh sneakers.

If he needed it, I got it for him.

He never gave me much warmth back, and only quietly took what I offered.

He didn't agree to date me until graduation was around the corner.

After that, every time we fought, I was the one apologizing.

Once, when I cursed at Dallas in a fit of anger, he took my phone and locked me out of the house. I spent the night freezing on the porch.

Spoiled? I couldn't see it.

I turned, walked back to my room, and shut the door behind me.

The house was mine, and there was no reason for me to leave.