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Chapter 5
Chapter 5
I stared at the photo for a long time, lost in thought.
My mom approached quietly, patting my shoulder. “Annie Tracy’s son, Liam, just returned to the country. Let’s have a meal together soon.”
She hesitated, watching me closely.
I knew what she was trying to do–introduce me to someone she thought would be a good match.
She worried I’d reject the idea outright, given my lifelong stance as an advocate for “free love.”
I gave her a faint, unreadable smile. “Okay.”
Maybe it was guilt–knowing I still caused my parents to worry even at my age. Or maybe I had realized that my taste in men had been disastrously poor.
The “true love” I believed in had turned out to be a sham. Perhaps love built on shared values and equal footing would last longer.
My mom lit up, relieved I wasn’t opposing her plan, and rubbed her hands together in excitement. “That’s great. Really great!”
I glanced at my father. “Dad, can you lend me some money? I want to start a new business.”
Without a word, he transferred 300,000 dollars into my account.
With that money, I could rebuild my career.
If Steven refused to give me bac
control of our company, I’d simply start over.
Seeing me bounce back made my parents genuinely happy. With their support, I quickly began laying the groundwork for my new business.
Within a month, I secured a location, finalized the renovation plans, and paid the deposit.
Doing all this alone was exhausting but rewarding. Everything was finally moving in the right direction.
With the office renovations nearly complete, I decided to visit the furniture market to pick out tables and chairs.
After buying what I needed and heading out, I ran into Steven at the entrance.
To my surprise, he looked disheveled–unshaven, his shirt wrinkled, his black leather shoes dusty. He was a far cry from the sharp, polished man I once knew.
When he saw me, he scratched his head awkwardly. “Anya, you moved out and blocked me. I asked around, and they said you’d be here.”
I tilted my head and looked at him blankly. “What do you want?”
Steven stared at me for a long moment before handing me a beautifully wrapped box. Inside was a pink pendant.
“I got this for you in Cryovein. I know you’ve always liked pink things,” he said.
His words made me pause, and I let out a bitter laugh.
“Steven, you really don’t know me at all, do you? I’ve never liked pink. I only started wearing it because you once
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Chapter 5
said I looked good in it,” I replied.
Wearing so much pink in my 30s had been ridiculous, but for him, I convinced myself it was youthful and vibrant.
After our separation, I replaced my wardrobe with my favorite deep grays.
Steven fell silent for a long time.
I handed the gift back to him. “Things that don’t suit me don’t belong in my life. People, too.”
Embarrassed, he rubbed his beard and started rambling. “Aliya, they’re right. A wife should always be the original one. Lanie is just so immature–always throwing tantrums and wanting clothes and bags. After working all day, I come home and still have to cater to her emotions.”
no one even irons my clothes anymore. Every meal is takeout or at a restaurant.
He complained, “Look at me- Anya, I really miss your cooking.”
