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Chapter 2

Author: Mr. Prosperity
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-24 19:13:20
I glanced at the exquisite diamond bracelet wrapped around Susie's wrist, the kind of piece that screamed seven-figure luxury. My eyes drifted back to Hank's face, steady and unbothered, before I spoke.

"What I said is what I meant. You give her the bracelet, and me—what? A trinket? Do you think I'm only worth some throwaway gift?"

Hank, caught off guard, blinked in awkward silence, clearly not expecting me to call him out so directly.

But Susie jumped in before he could recover, her voice dripping with that practiced sweetness.

"Pearl, don't be upset. Hank only gave me the bracelet because I liked it so much. But if it bothers you, I'll return it. Please, don't let this come between you two—it's not worth it."

Her words oozed with innocence, but her hands never moved to take off the bracelet. Instead, she blinked up at him with teary eyes, each drop perfectly timed, slipping down her cheeks like rain on cue.

And, of course, Hank folded. He pulled her into his arms like she was the one who needed comforting as he glared at me.

"Don't listen to her, Susie. That bracelet is yours. Once a gift is given, it stays with the person it's meant for. She's always been petty like this, getting worked up over nothing."

I didn't bother responding. My attention had already returned to the glowing screen in front of me.

But my silence only fueled his frustration. His face hardened as he wrapped his arm tighter around Susie and stormed out of the house.

He made a show of slamming the door open wide, standing there, waiting—waiting for me to give in, like I always had.

But not this time.

I didn't even look up. Instead, I quietly added the cost of that bracelet—those millions he'd spent on her—into the asset division spreadsheet.

With a final, angry slam, he shut the door behind him.

It wasn't long after they left that my parents called, asking me to come over for dinner.

I agreed. When I arrived at their place, who do I run into at the door but Hank?

He looked at me, something like guilt flickering across his face before he smoothed it over with a forced calm.

"Are we going in together?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

I nodded and walked inside without a word.

The dinner was a painfully awkward affair. My parents hadn't forgiven him for what had happened at the wedding. Their coldness was obvious in every curt exchange, every sidelong glance.

In the past, I might have stepped in to smooth things over, playing the mediator between my parents and Hank. But not now. This time, I let him sit there alone, awkward, as the tension thickened around us.

When dinner finally ended, and I was ready to call a cab, Hank pulled up in his car. I opened the door to get in, only to see a sticker plastered across the front passenger seat: "Reserved for Susie."

He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable, and tried to explain.

"Susie insisted on putting it there. You don't sit here much anyway."

I nodded, my voice calm and flat. "Right, she's young. That's what girls her age do."

He frowned, as if he wanted to say more, but my phone buzzed before he could.

I ignored him, focusing on the messages that needed my attention. By the time I was done, we had already arrived at the villa.

I stepped out of the car, and before I could take another breath, Susie was already rushing toward him, practically throwing herself into his arms.

"Hank, I missed you so much!" she chirped.

Maybe it was because I was standing right there, but Hank looked uncomfortable again. He quickly pushed her away before she could plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Come on, Susie, stop acting so childish. You're too old for this."

She shot me a smug look, her voice full of playful sweetness. "So what if I am? We're still super close!"

I ignored their little exchange, deciding to walk straight into the house.

But as soon as I reached the entrance, something caught my eye—a series of photos flashing across the electronic display on the wall.

They were all of Susie and Hank. Some showed them cuddling while watching the sunrise, others were of them dining together. And the last one? The both of them locked in a passionate kiss.

I had barely glanced at the photos when Hank rushed over to my side, his voice hurried, desperate.

"Pearl, these photos—they're fake. You have to believe me. Please don't get upset, it's not good for the baby."

I turned to face him, catching the flicker of guilt in his eyes.

I nodded. "They look well taken, though."

His brow furrowed deeper, confusion clear on his face.

"Pearl, aren't you angry?"

I kept my expression steady, calm. "No, not at all."

Before he could press further, my phone rang. It was the doctor, calling to discuss the details of my hospital stay tomorrow.

I walked away to answer the call without giving Hank's reaction a second thought.

By the time I returned to the event, the scene unfolding in front of me was all too familiar. Hank stood there, shielding Susie, his voice raised as he berated someone.

From their heated exchange, it wasn't hard to piece together what had happened. Someone had accidentally spilled a bit of wine on the hem of Susie's dress, and now, Hank was demanding an apology relentlessly.

Watching this unfold triggered a memory, one from years ago. We had been at another banquet, much like this one.

I was standing near the champagne tower when Susie shoved me, seemingly by accident. I lost my balance, crashing into the tower, shattering glasses as I fell. Champagne and blood mixed as they dripped down my body.

I had looked to Hank for help, but instead, he had unleashed his fury on me, his words sharp and cutting in front of everyone.

"Can't you walk properly? You didn't see the giant champagne tower right in front of you? Do you know how important this event is? What's the point of someone as useless as you even being alive?"

His final words had been the cruelest.

"If I were you, I'd throw myself headfirst into the nearest wall."

Snapping back to the present, I watched him now, the same man, protecting Susie over a minor accident.

It was laughable, really.

Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked away.
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