Chapter 3

3.

Four more days passed. Today was the seventh day since my father died―the day of his memorial.

I had reached a point of calm acceptance. I packed my things and cleaned the house.

I called my brother and told him I had booked a flight to Dublin to stay with him.

I was still trying to figure out how to tell Silas about the divorce.

I knew his personality. He would never agree to being the one who got dumped.

Before I could decide, he called me first.

"Riley, where are you? Come over and have dinner with me."

"Leaving you and your dad the other day was wrong of me. Just come to dinner, and I'll give you anything you want."

This was what he always said when he felt a temporary pang of guilt. He promised to satisfy any request.

I looked at the divorce papers on the table and forced a smile. "Fine."

I took a taxi to the hotel he mentioned. When I saw the massive, bright red celebratory banner at the entrance, I froze.

He hadn't invited me to a quiet dinner. He had invited me to Sienna's father's 70th birthday gala.

On the very day of my father's memorial, he wanted me to attend a celebration for Sienna's family.

My eyes burned with tears. It was even worse when I saw Silas and Sienna standing at the door, both wearing matching red outfits, looking radiant.

They looked like a perfect, happy couple.

Silas looked at Sienna with such tender love, leaning down to listen to whatever she was whispering.

When he saw me dressed in all black with a small white mourning flower pinned to my chest, his rage ignited instantly.

Before I even got close, he stormed over and hissed at me, loud enough for nearby guests to hear.

"What the hell are you wearing? A white flower? Are you trying to jinx your father into another heart attack?"

I thought my heart couldn't break any further.

But hearing him mock me like that made it hard to breathe.

I curled my lips into a faint smile, reminding myself that after this meal, we would be nothing to each other.

"I'm sorry. My mistake."

I ripped the white flower off. Sienna and her parents walked over, and her mother looked at Silas curiously.

"Silas, is this girl a friend of yours?"

Silas looked back and forth between me and Sienna. His gaze lingered on me for two seconds before he smiled at her parents.

"No, she's just an employee at my firm."

Sienna grinned and linked her arm through his, adding her own insult.

"That's right, Mom. She works for Silas. We're actually quite close. I specifically invited her here."

She raised an eyebrow at me, looking at the crumpled white flower in my hand, and laughed even louder.

"Riley, it's my dad's birthday. I heard your calligraphy is excellent. Could you write a blessing for him?"

As soon as she asked, Silas agreed on my behalf. He rubbed her head affectionately.

"Of course. It's just a few words. It's the least she can do."

Then he turned a cold eye on me, his voice dripping with impatience.

"Don't make a scene. Do what Sienna asked. Writing a few words won't kill you!"

I nodded numbly. "Fine. I'll write it."

Sienna chose a phrase that felt like a slap in the face.

[May you be free from sickness and live a hundred years.]

I had won awards for my hand-lettering, but as I gripped the brush, I felt like a beginner who didn't know how to hold a pen.

My hand wouldn't stop shaking. I could barely keep the brush steady.

I was on the verge of a total breakdown. I wanted to scream and cry.

It was my father's memorial, and Silas was making me write blessings for his first love's father, wishing him a long life.

I ruined several sheets of paper before I finally managed to finish the piece.

Sienna took it and laughed, looking at me with pure triumph and contempt. "Thanks a bunch."

Then, she carelessly tossed the paper into a nearby trash can. She said loudly, "The writing isn't even that good. Silas, I have no idea why you kept her around. She's completely talentless."

Silas wrapped his arm around her waist, glancing at me with a sneer as he joined in.

"She was the one who wouldn't stop stalking me. Why else would I have bothered with her?"

In that moment, I felt a bone-chilling cold. I felt like I was drowning in the middle of the ocean, gasping for air.

I don't even know how I finished that meal.

The room was filled with laughter, cheers, and toasts.

People were celebrating Sienna's father, but they were also celebrating Silas and Sienna.

Everyone naturally assumed they were husband and wife, wishing them many children in the future.

The sound of clinking glasses echoed in my ears. I was like a robot, standing, toasting, and sitting down as programmed.

The dinner felt like it lasted a century.

Silas finally noticed something was off about me. His face darkened.

"Sienna knew you were in a bad mood because of your dad, so she wanted you to come here to cheer up. Look at that depressing face of yours. Just get the hell out of here and go home!"

Finally, I fled the hall and caught a taxi back.

I didn't even have the strength to cry on the way home. I grabbed my suitcase and headed straight for the airport.

Before I left, I sent Silas one final message.

[The request I'm making is this: I want a divorce. Never see me again.]

After that, I pulled out my SIM card, turned off the phone, and boarded the plane.