My gaze dropped to the coffee table.

It was covered with a full spread of food, luxurious and perfect, like something out of a magazine. The air was filled with a soft fragrance. At the corner of the table sat a bouquet of bright red roses.

So, this was what the house looked like when I was not around. Lively, warm, and happy.

For three years, I had cut myself off from everything I liked. All the soaps and shampoos in the house had been switched to unscented ones. My favorite scented candles had long been left to gather dust.

There was not a single brightly coloured piece of clothing left in my closet because Melanie said strong dyes irritated her skin.

I had turned my own home into something like a hotel, living carefully and cautiously, as if I did not belong in there.

It was all a lie.

Why? The question echoed in my head.

I spoke quietly. "Keith, this is my home. Where exactly do you expect me to go?"

Keith froze for a few seconds.

I had always been gentle and easygoing. He had never heard me speak to him in such a cold tone before.

Melanie's coughing grew louder. Caroline hovered nearby, flustered. "Keith, what do we do? She looks really unwell…"

Her words snapped him back to attention.

His expression turned irritated. "Did you really have to come back right now? Caroline rarely cooks, and Mom just started getting her appetite back. The second you show up, everything descends into chaos!"

He blamed me for everything—for coming home at the wrong time, for ruining their perfect little family moment.

This was my home, yet somehow, my coming back had become the problem.

"Keith," I said, my voice steady, "are you planning to make Caroline the lady of this house? Am I just in your way now?"

His face darkened instantly. "Silvia, that's just your imagination. Stop acting crazy. Caroline is Mom's goddaughter. Of course she has a place in this family!"

The moment he said it, Caroline lit up, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. Melanie dropped the act completely. She looked at me with open disdain, like she was laughing at how ridiculous I was.

I looked at my so-called family members and felt completely alone. A dull ache spread through my chest slowly and steadily.

When Keith saw that I was not moving, he strode over and grabbed my wrist, dragging me toward the door with a grip so tight it sent pain shooting through me.

"Keith, if you drag me out that door today, we're done."

He hesitated.

Right on cue, Melanie's weak voice called out from behind us. "Son… I-I think I'm dying…"

That single sentence wiped away every trace of hesitation in his eyes. He clenched his teeth and shoved me out the door.

I stared at the closed door in front of me, bitterness rising in my throat.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was a message from Keith.

[Honey, I'm sorry. Mom was in real danger just now. Go stay at your parents' place for the night. I'll pick you up tomorrow. Don't overthink it. You're the one I love.]

That was a lie.

I had received messages like that countless times before. How had I never noticed how disgusting they truly were?

At some point, my tears had started falling. They hit the screen, turning the words under them into blurred fragments.

After a long while, I wiped them away and replied silently.

[Okay.]

…

I went to the bank.

When Keith and I got married, both our families paid half the down payment for this apartment. The property was registered under both our names.

I brought a car worth about $500,000 and $300,000 in cash into the marriage.

Back then, Keith said it would be easier to manage investments if the money were placed into a joint account under his care.

I had trusted him completely. I had never once checked where that money went.

When the bank teller handed me the transaction records, my hands started shaking.

Starting a year ago, money had been transferred out of the account every month. It was $20,000 each time, like clockwork.

The recipient's name was Caroline.

Her studying abroad expenses, the designer brands she wore—all of it had been paid for with my money.

I had been cutting back, saving wherever I could, not even buying myself decent clothes anymore.

I let out a bitter laugh.

I felt unbelievably pathetic.

As soon as I walked out of the bank, my phone lit up with a flood of messages from Keith.

[Silvia, aren't you coming home? I know you're mad, but Mom's old. Don't take it out on her.]

[Caroline's making Mom's favorite meatloaf. I have to help her, so I can't pick you up. Just take a cab home.]

When I did not respond, a note of impatience crept into his messages.

[Silvia! Are you done throwing a fit yet? Why do I have to beg you over and over just to get you to come home?]

I turned my phone off.

I saw him as I arrived at the office building on Monday morning.

Keith was leaning against his car. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and he looked worn out, like he had not slept.

The moment he saw me, he crushed his cigarette and walked over quickly.

"Silvia, why haven't you come home these past few days?"

I answered calmly, "Didn't you tell me not to come back? I did exactly what you wanted, yet you're unhappy?"

Keith was speechless.

It took him a while to find his voice again.

"Silvia, I went too far that day. I get that you were upset, but you can't just stay away from home like this.

"I already talked to Mom. You can come back three days a week from now on."

I actually laughed.

"It’s my home to begin with. Since when do I need your permission to decide how many days I can live there?"

His expression darkened.

"Silvia, can you stop being so aggressive? I already compromised. What more do you want?"

I let out a soft, mocking laugh. "And the other four days? Who are you giving those to? Your dear little sister Caroline?"

"What does this have to do with Caroline?

"Why do you keep targeting her? She just cares about Mom. She's trying to keep this family peaceful. Can't you think about me for once? Why do you have to make trouble at a time like this? Are you really that selfish and unwilling to do anything for this family?"

His brows knitted together, disappointment filling his eyes.

It was almost funny. I was the one who should have felt wronged, yet somehow, he got there first.

When I did not respond, he seemed to realize he had gone too far. His tone softened.

"Silvia, Mom is…"

"Is she dead?" I asked calmly.

His face flushed red with anger. "Silvia! How could you say that?"

"Good. If she's not dead, there's nothing to talk about. You know better than I do what's really going on with her ‘condition’."

His eyes flickered, avoiding mine, like he was trying to hide his guilt. "That day… You heard?"

"How much do you want me to have heard?" I asked back.

He fell silent.

After a long moment, he let out a sigh.

"Silvia, Mom's just like that. You know her personality. Caroline's dad was my dad's old comrade. I really do treat her like a sister. I'm just trying to keep Mom happy."

I smiled. "So, you’re saying that everything you've done was for my own good and for the good of this family."

He nodded quickly. "Yes. I swear you're the only one in my heart."

"What about the perfume?"

His expression froze again.

"T-that was something Caroline bought herself. She was just showing it off in front of me."

The lie came out so easily and smoothly, that it made my heart freeze over.

Suddenly, I felt nothing but exhaustion, and with it came the quiet realization that there was no point arguing anymore. It was not worth it anymore.

"You're right," I said quietly. "I am selfish. Selfish enough to want a home I can go back to whenever I want.

I looked at him. "So, Keith, let's get a divorce."

"Divorce?!

"Silvia, you want a divorce over something this small? Stop being unreasonable and come home with me."

Keith thought I was still throwing a tantrum, using this to threaten him.

"I'm serious, Keith. You know exactly why I want a divorce." My calmness finally made him uneasy.

"Silvia, w-what are you even saying? Weren't we doing just fine?"

I let out an icy laugh. "Were we?"

Of course he thought everything was fine.

I gave up everything I liked, yet he pretended not to see. I bent over backward to keep the peace, yet he took it for granted.

With me gone, Caroline would take my place, managing the house. He did not have to worry about anything.

Including how I felt.

He had no answer. All he could do was repeat the same weak excuse. "What happened yesterday was my fault. Mom and Caroline were wrong too. I'll apologize for them. Just don't be mad. Let's go home and talk this out."

I looked at him, my expression unreadable. "Which home? The one where I have to be careful even when breathing? Or the one where you can throw me out without a second thought for another woman?

"Keith, your apology is just like your lies: cheap and disgusting! You're not apologizing because I was hurt. You're upset because I witnessed your little performance and ruined it."

Every word hit exactly where it hurt.

The color drained from his face. The fake patience he had been holding onto finally cracked.

"Silvia! Are you done yet? I've already humbled myself. What more do you want? Do you really want to destroy everything we've had all these years?"

Everything we had?

I repeated the words quietly in my head. They sounded almost laughable.

"Do you really think our problem is just about what happened yesterday?"

He shifted under my gaze, clearly unsettled. "Then what? You're the one making a big deal out of nothing."

I smiled. As I smiled, tears started falling without warning.

"Keith, do you really think you've hidden everything from me so well?"

I pulled the stack of bank statements from my bag and threw them straight at his face.