Chapter 5
Moonlight spilled across the living room floor. Lilibeth stood behind the door, peeking through the narrow crack. She saw Clifford leaning in to kiss Tiffany.
His breathing was ragged, and his slender fingers gripped her waist with urgency. It was as if he were unleashing six years of buried self-restraint into that moment.
“Tiff…” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
There was a tenderness in his tone that Lilibeth had never heard before.
She didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually, Clifford seemed to snap out of it.
He gently wiped the corner of Tiffany’s mouth, which was still wet from his kiss. Then, he slipped the prayer beads back over his wrist and regained that distant, priest-like composure.
Nearby, Lilibeth’s nails dug into her palm. The pain was the only thing anchoring her in place. She turned abruptly, shut the door without a sound, and crawled under the covers, burying herself completely.
Outside, the sound of footsteps grew fainter. She knew Clifford had gone back to the meditation room.
Moments later, Lilibeth closed her eyes. Yet, her mind drifted back to all the times she had tried to seduce him over the years.
Once, she had worn revealing nightwear and “accidentally” tripped while he was reading scriptures, only for him to catch her with the book still in his hands.
Another time, she had brought him a towel while he was in the shower. To her dismay, he had opened the door with one already wrapped snugly around his waist.
On yet another occasion, she had pretended to be drunk and collapsed onto him. But he had simply pushed her back with a single finger to her forehead.
Not once had Clifford faltered. In the end, all of her efforts had been in vain.
Now, Lilibeth finally understood. When a man truly cared, just one word from the right woman could unravel him completely. Tears streamed down her face, but she quickly wiped them away.
It didn’t matter anymore. After all, she wasn’t someone nobody wanted.
From now on, Clifford could love Tiffany all he wanted. As for Lilibeth, she would find her own happiness.
…
The next morning, Lilibeth came downstairs to find Clifford and Tiffany having breakfast.
Tiffany touched her lips and grumbled, “Cliff, are there mosquitoes in your house? Why did I wake up with my lips all swollen?”
Clifford’s hands froze midair before he replied in a low voice, “I’ll have the maid bring you some ointment later.”
Meanwhile, Lilibeth accepted the gift box he handed to her and opened it. Inside was a rare antique, easily worth millions of dollars.
Her lips curled into a faint smile, but her voice dripped with mockery as she said, “You really spared no expense, huh?”
Hearing that, Tiffany leaned over to look. “Wow, Cliff. I didn’t know you treated Lilibeth this well. I always thought you were all holy and boring. Guess you do know how to spoil your wife,” she teased, a hint of jealousy in her voice.
Lilibeth looked up at Clifford. Only then did she notice that his gaze had darkened. It seemed like he had no intention of explaining that the gift was meant to make up for Tiffany smashing bottles over her head.
In truth, he had never cared what Lilibeth liked and never once bothered to buy her anything.
Clifford simply hummed in response before standing up. “I’m heading to the office now. I’ve got work to do.”
Before leaving, he turned to Tiffany and added, “Be on your best behavior. You’re free to explore the place, except the meditation room.”
“Why not?” Tiffany asked, puzzled.
Clifford brushed it off with a casual excuse, but Lilibeth knew the truth. That room contained the secret longings he had tried so hard to suppress.
…
After breakfast, Lilibeth returned to her bedroom. She couldn’t bear to be in the same room as Tiffany for another second.
But when she woke from her nap, she found that her hair had been cut. It was uneven, as if someone had just taken a pair of scissors and chopped away.
Furious, she rushed out of the room and found Tiffany lounging on the couch, giggling as she toyed with a lock of Lilibeth’s hair.
One look was all it took for Lilibeth to understand. “You cut my hair?” she questioned, her voice trembling.
Tiffany looked up with a serene smile plastered across her face.
“Yeah. I’ve got a craft project for school, so I figured I’d make a wig.” She held up the hair and continued, “Your hair’s the best, Lilibeth. It’s so dark and shiny.”
At that sight, something went cold inside Lilibeth. She couldn’t hold back anymore.
In the next second, she lunged forward and slapped Tiffany hard.
