Chapter 3

Everyone knew the Jones family was keen on setting me up with Timothy. His parents had watched me grow up, practically considering me as family. As for Timothy himself...

I took a sip of my coffee, trying to steady my nerves.

"Did you enjoy yourself that night?" he asked, catching me off guard.

I had expected a lecture or a warning, not this. The events of that night flashed vividly in my mind, causing my hand to tremble slightly as I set down my cup.

"What's it to you?" I retorted.

Timothy chuckled. "What, afraid I'll expose that you only kissed Ian to make me jealous? Don't worry. I don't care about such trivial matters."

He leaned back on the couch, exuding an air of superiority. It reminded me of our time together—how he always liked to be in control.

Timothy had a strong appetite for pleasure and never ran out of ways to keep things interesting. His favorite part was watching me surrender to him, losing myself in the moment.

He would say, "The way you look at me, Olivia… it's like I own you, and I like that."

There was passion in those words, an intensity that I could not deny. Yet, deep down, I was not that kind of girl. I had been a good girl for years, always following the rules, and I did not know how to handle someone as unpredictable as Timothy.

I would watch silently as he smoked and drank, feeling like a tag-along kid at an adult party. Then, one day, someone asked him what kind of girl he liked.

With a cigarette dangling from his lips, he smirked and said, "Big chest, nice bottom, and most importantly, wild."

So, I started learning how to be the woman he described. I had a good figure and a pretty face. All I needed was a little more boldness, confidence, and openness. When I finally had him wrapped around my finger, we were already naked in bed, and that one night turned into three years.

"Timothy."

He rested his head on his hand, staring at me as if waiting for an explanation.

But I simply stated, "I won't chase after you anymore."

We have had our share of breakups over the years. He favored the silent treatment, while I craved security. When angry, he would leave me alone to figure out what I had done. Once I came to my senses, I would crawl back to make amends.

I used to think we really did love each other. Despite his wild ways, Timothy had never crossed any lines—drinking, telling dirty jokes, and that was it.

Yet, of all people, he chose to fool around with Willow. He knew she was the one who had torn my family apart and how much I hated her.

If it had been anyone else, I might have been able to keep lying to myself. Nonetheless, I saw everything clearly.

"Olivia, there's a limit to your dramatic antics."

I felt my patience wearing thin. "Aren't you with her now? You have a girlfriend. I may be a lot of things, but I won't be the other woman. You know how much I despise cheaters."

Timothy's expression finally changed. He sat up straight, his tone softening. "Willow's actually really sweet and obedient, kind of like how you used to be. I know you're just jealous, Olivia. Sure, I'm dating her, but you're still the one I'll marry."

I laughed—really laughed until my sides ached. The girl he thought was sweet and obedient was the same one who had once convinced Dad to lock me in a dark room for a whole day without food. The same one who put nails in my shoes on purpose.

I had really been the obedient one; Willow was just good at pretending.

However, it did not matter anymore. If he was happy, so be it. One cannot be too greedy in life. Having it all was a luxury reserved for fairytales. I had been living for his approval for three years. It was time for me to taste freedom.

"Timothy, I slept with him. He's actually pretty good. A little better than you, in fact."

With every word I spoke, I saw the veins in his neck bulge a little more.