Chapter 3

5

I returned to the villa, ready to pack away the remnants of seven years of my life.

Two suitcases sufficed to carry away seven years of memories and belongings.

I chose to leave behind the jewelry and gifts, symbols of a past life.

I only took the items I frequently used and wore.

I relocated to the villa in the southern part of the city, a fresh start gifted by my uncles.

I found solace in waking early to nurture the garden's flowers and plants, where I had planted a large patch of roses.

The Oliver Family's garden was stark and barren, a sharp contrast to my flourishing roses. I had once planted some flowers there, but Harold had them removed, citing a pollen allergy, though the flowers were a cherished part of my life.

I embarked on a creative journey, founding a design studio with my college best friend, taking on projects and designing on my own. Over four years, I saved nearly a million.

If only Harold would sign the divorce papers, freeing me from judgment and granting peace.

A few days later, a call from the Barton Family's old house disrupted my calm life.

Standing outside the old house, I was torn between gratitude and apprehension towards the Oliver Family.

Harold was a jerk, but his family had always been kind to me, and I couldn't bring myself to speak.

Upon entering, Marlee was overjoyed, "Elsie, you're here! Emily, prepare the meal!"

Marlee warmly clasped my hand, engaging in the comforting rhythm of everyday chatter. As we walked into the living room, I saw Harold lounging there, watching TV.

At the dining table, Marlee placed a piece of fish in my bowl, "You both are at the perfect age to start a family!" So, they were urging us to have a baby.

Unfortunately, Harold and I were already over.

Harold smiled, "Well, I've been busy with work in the first half of the year. We can plan for a baby in the second half."

I glanced at him; he didn't seem to be joking.

I had no energy left to decipher his intentions, my mind set on leaving.

Before leaving, Marlee pulled me aside and spoke earnestly, "Harold has indeed gone too far recently. His father has already reprimanded him. Don't worry, Elsie, I'll personally deal with that woman."

I could only nod in agreement.

I left with Harold in his car.

On the way back, I asked him, "Harold, how do you plan to prepare for a baby?"

What I meant was, he should hurry up and sign the divorce papers. Once we're divorced, he can plan for a baby with whomever he wants.

He closed his eyes slightly, his lips barely moving, "Of course, with you."

I recalled the countless times over the past four years when I had begged him to have a child with me.

I had foolishly thought a child could bind us together, but now it just seemed ridiculous.

"Harold, I'm not a pet waiting for you to come home."

"I've resolved to divorce you; having your child is out of the question."

"Perhaps your girlfriends can fulfill your paternal ambitions."

He grabbed my chin, his eyes filled with anger, "Elsie! I've spoiled you too much. How dare you speak to me like this?"

He kissed me with an unwelcome force, leaving no room for resistance, his tongue ravaging like a storm, stealing all my breath. I bit his lip until it bled.

He released me in pain, looking at me with a dark gaze.

"Get out of the car!"

I didn't hesitate and got out immediately.

Being alone with him in a confined space felt suffocating.

6

The autumn wind carried a chill that dried my eyes, causing tears to fall like heavy raindrops.

I couldn't walk any further, so I stopped and let out all the grievances in my heart.

The wind carried raindrops that hit my face.

The rain mixed with my tears, washing away all my worries.

An umbrella suddenly sheltered me, a surprising shield against the wind and rain.

I turned around and saw Kevan.

He was Garrett's son, and when my father was alive, he was closest to Garrett. Kevan and I shared a bond of friendship, rooted in family ties and shared history.

He went abroad at sixteen, and by the time he returned, I was already married.

His face was etched with concern as he gently helped me to my feet, "Elsie, after all these years, is this what you've become?"

My eyes were red, and the cold wind had turned my nose a pale pink. My porcelain-white face was streaked with tears.

I took the tissue from his hand and wiped away my tears.

His suit jacket, warm and comforting, enveloped me like a protective cocoon.

I was only wearing a thin black dress, having left my coat in Harold's car.

His jacket brought warmth from the outside in.

"Kevan, I'm sorry you had to witness me in such a state."

He said nothing, just pulled me into his embrace with one arm and then got into the car.

He drove me back to the villa in the south of the city. After getting out, I politely asked him,

"Would you care to join me inside for a warm cup of tea?"

I thought he would refuse, being a busy man. I had overheard him on the phone in the car, saying he had urgent business at the company.

He raised an eyebrow and accepted.

"Sure, I'd love to try your tea."

I dedicated myself to managing a tea estate in the countryside, learning from a master tea picker for years and even earning a senior tea artist certification.

I had posted on Facebook, and Kevan had liked and commented, "When I return, I'll have to taste the skills of the great tea artist Elsie."

By the time he returned, I had been married to Harold for three months.

I smiled, "Alright, come in. I'll make some tea."

Today, the tea, long overdue by seven years, would finally be savored.