I waited by the road for thirty minutes, before finally hailing a cab to leave.

Perhaps feeling guilty, Paul actually came home that night, but entered to find me packing a suitcase.

"Running away again?!" He promptly bellowed.

I never stopped, replying nonchalantly, "Just packing some clothes."

At those words, I subtly moved aside, keeping my distance.

The sickly sweet perfume clinging to his body combined with the scent of shampoo left me with a headache.

Still, his expression stiffened as he noticed me moving away, and muttered as if for his own benefit, "The closet is just a little small. When we marry and move to a bigger house, I'll make you an entire wardrobe room, okay?"

In the past, I would have thought he really cared, even doting on me.

I would be scrambling over myself to say yes, and fantasize about our married life.

Now, anything he said left me feeling disgusted and deceived.

Still, seeing that I was not responding, he didn't press the issue and headed into the bedroom, unbothered.

He never sweet-talked me—even when I was upset.

He knew that all he had to do was beckon at me, and I would run up to him, apologizing and humbly asking to make up with him.

If anything, the fact that he spoke up first after we fought earlier was already the greatest compromise he would afford me.

Later, I entered the bedroom.

Water was splashing audibly from the bathroom, and Paul's phone was outside, vibrating endlessly.

His screen was still lit, and displayed his chat with Lily: [Paul, which one should I use for my wallpaper?]

She had sent him so many photos that one would never know where to look.

And in every single photo, Lily and Paul were at once affectionate and intimate.

There were even wedding photos, as if they were actually newlyweds.

Even the backdrops were places that I had personally picked.

Hah! And he always told me that he was busy—in the end, he just didn't want to go with me!

The apathy I felt just earlier was suddenly washed off, and my heart clenched, as if seized by a giant, unseen hand.

I used to be so excited and asked him to choose from our many photos too, but he'd just wave me off impatiently, not even bothering to look up. "No time. Stop bothering me."

I still remembered the look on his face then.

That man and the man in Lily's photos—who smiled as dazzlingly as the sun, were certainly two different people.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened, and Paul came bellowing as he rushed at me, "Who told you to look?!"

He snatched it off so forcefully before I could react.

Then, seeing in just a second that I had swiped through his chat log, he pushed me to the floor, "Who told you to touch my phone?! Are you crazy?!"

I crashed on a table, and it cut into my leg, drawing blood.

He didn't seem to notice, and kept ranting at me as he replied to Lily's text—as if I was the third-wheeler meddling in their relationship.

Actually, I wouldn't have kept reading even if Paul never came out.

There really was nothing to see in those texts.

It was just photos of lacey underwear, flirting and the like.

I had seen what I needed to, and the worst had already passed.

I used to lose sleep as I stared at our chat that was hardly used, waiting day and night for Paul to come home.

In the end, I would still tirelessly share anything with him.

Days—perhaps weeks later, when he felt like it, he would reply shortly.

[Oh.]

[Yeah.]

[Right.]

That, and nothing else.

I wiped off the blood from my leg, and stood up, limping.

"It won't happen again."

At my words, Paul suddenly stopped ranting.

Paul froze in shock, and it took a while for him to stammer, "It's all just a misunderstanding. It's just photos from Lily's birthday."

"You know that she doesn't have a family—I was just taking photos with her as her brother."

As he spoke, he was afraid to look me in the eye.

It left me snickering—he actually had a conscience?

Lily's parents and Paul's parents were friends for years, and they grew up together.

But one day, Lily's parents got into an accident on the way to pick up Paul, and with their dying breath, they entrusted Lily in his care.

That was why Paul felt guilt, and was really doting on Lily.

At first, there was proper distance between them. However, they were virtually glued to each other now.

As such, his explanations were absolutely feeble to me.

Still, I fought back tears and said quietly, "I'm fine. Don't worry. If you marry her—"

Even before I finished, Paul slapped me across the face, knocking me to the floor, leaving a clear red palm print that soon swelled.

"Are you crazy?!" He bellowed at me. "Lily is like a sister to me! Did you think everyone is as cheap as you, flirting with every man you see?!"

The fiery pain jolted my muddled mind awake.

I snorted as I slowly turned towards him, "You're right."

I was being cheap.

That was how Paul had me wrapped around his finger, treating me like a clown for his own amusement.

Still, he soon realized what he had done, and panic showed in his eyes, "Jessica, I wasn't—"

"Paul."

I suddenly cut him short, as I found this soap opera so dull that I didn't want to keep it up. "I'm going to—"

Before I could finish, Paul's phone rang.

"Oh, Paul… I'm so scared! I'm all alone… I miss my parents… They'd definitely be with me if they were still around…"

"It's alright. I'll be right there."

He didn't even bother to ask me for my opinion this time, and promptly got dressed to leave.

Still, he stopped at the doorway and turned around, "What were you going to tell me?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. You should go."

Early the next day, I was woken by some noise in the hallway outside.

Naturally, Paul never came home.

I didn't ask either, and contacted my office to tell them I was resigning.

I then reached out to local welfare organizations, donating the clothes I packed last night.

As I was getting a drink, I paused as I heard a woman exclaiming worshipfully, while a man was barking orders.

Recognizing the voices, I opened the door, and immediately saw some movers moving furniture, while Paul and Lily stood in the middle.

Their cheeks pressed against each other just like a loving couple.

Then, perhaps because of something Lily whispered into Paul's ear, he smiled affectionately and tapped her nose.

Then, he turned and barked orders at the movers again.

He was picky with furniture placement, and everything must go according to his will where he lived.

When we moved, he took leave just to order the movers like he did now, and he told me then, "One's own house must be designed by oneself to make living comfortable."

Even now, the layout in the house was no different from before, but that man from back then was never coming back….

That was when my phone vibrated.

I tried to hang up in my panic, only to up the volume, catching everyone's attention—including Lily and Paul.

Once I finally hung up, Lily ran up to me, hugging my arm, "Paul's worried since it's dangerous for me to live alone, so he bought this house as a present! Once everything's arranged, you're welcomed as a guest!"

As Lily spoke, she pulled on my arm repeatedly like a child.

I never liked her, and her behavior left me frowning.

As I quietly withdrew my hand to turn and leave, she suddenly freed my hand and fell backward, knocking into the movers carrying a coffee table and knocking it over.

She fell, cutting her own hand in the glass.

"Argh!!!" Tears welled up in her eyes, and she was the picture of misery.

Hearing that, Paul promptly ran over, carefully cupping her hand in his, and actually cried as if it hurt when he saw her putting up a brave face.

When he wheeled on me, however, his affection was replaced by rage.

"Jessica! You're such a horrible woman!" He bellowed. "If anything bad happens to Lily, I'll kill you!"

Lily remained tearful, leaning against him as she defended me, "It's not Jessica's fault. She didn't push me—I fell. It's my fault for being a coward… If I didn't have to move here, you wouldn't be fighting. I should leave."

Paul simply pulled her closer. "No, you don't have to leave. It's not your fault."

As he finished, he turned toward me, "Apologize to Lily now."

I was not bothered by their soap opera antics, and had to fight back my disgust as I retreated inside my room.

Still, I didn't expect Paul to suddenly catch the door, "Apologize!"

His bellow left my temples twitching, all accumulated grief imploding at that moment.

"Why should I apologize?" I retorted. "Do you even know what happened?!"

Lily's face dropped right then. She promptly scowled vulnerably, tugging on Paul's sleeve as she teeteered as if to fall. "It's not Jessica's fault. I'm fine."

Paul promptly caught her, and shot me a vicious glare. "I don't know the truth, but I know Lily. You're just so vile, Jessica!"

The spite in his eyes was overflowing, and it left me suffocating.

He really never changed, and did not believe me as usual.