Chester was smiling at his phone, probably texting Wendy. I left the breakfast by his bed and slipped out quietly.

When his mother, Brielle Kane, came home, I was ready with my resignation. I was not tied down like the other lifetime-contract maids; I was free to go.

Brielle always said I could leave when Chester did not need me. However, I swore to myself that I would always be there for him.

Now, I was breaking that promise.

In the study, Brielle watched me with crossed arms.

"Is Chester aware you're planning to leave?"

She knew all about the unique bond Chester and I shared, which meant she kept me under her thumb, her demeanor anything but friendly.

I kept my eyes to the floor.

"I've taken precautions; there won't be any Graham heirs from me."

Without his desires to cater to, I would be nothing more than a nobody.

Once I was gone, Chester would not spare me a second thought.

Brielle clearly did not take my word for it. She summoned the family doctor, who gave me a thorough check-up. Only when it was confirmed that I was not expecting did she consented to my request.

"I'll arrange for a replacement within five days. After that, you're to leave immediately."

I understood. If I did not know much about Chester's personal tastes, she would have booted me out on the spot.

Stepping out of the study, I let out a sigh of relief, only to spot Wendy lounging in the living room.

She was cozied up to Chester, whispering sweet nothings, both of them all aglow.

Chester caught sight of me and casually ordered me to whip up a coffee for Wendy.

No sooner had I set the cup down in front of her than Wendy, too eager, grabbed it and splashed it everywhere.

"Yikes, that's hot!"

Chester shot me a frosty look. "What's wrong with you?"

Head bowed, I stammered an apology and was about to clean up the mess when Wendy waved me off.

She flashed a dimpled smile and shook her head. "No biggie, I should've checked the temp.

"So, you're Ann, the maid by Chester's side, huh?"

I murmured a yes, then braced myself for Chester's icy stare.

He was not buying my story.

I bent over backward, literally, and said I was sorry, again.

That seemed to do the trick. Chester's face softened, and he escorted Wendy back to the couch.

"Don't bother with formalities around them, that's just how the Graham family rolls."

Wendy let out a sigh, and the look she shot me was tinged with sympathy.

Later on, Wendy flirted with Chester, tugging at his arm.

"It's my first time at your place. Can you give me the grand tour?

"Oh, and Ann, maybe you shouldn't—"

Her words were cut off by Chester's interruption.

"Ann, keep up with us. If you need anything, just ask her."

With that, he led Wendy ahead, leaving me trailing behind.

Wendy, annoyed that I intruded on their private moment, shot me a venomous look and hissed, "You'll pay for this!"

I did not say a word, just quietly followed them.

It was part of my job, after all, though then I had an extra pair of eyes to mind.

Outside the manor, Wendy pointed at the highest branch of a cherry blossom tree and fixed her gaze on me.

"Ann, climb up and get that for me, will you?"

The cherry blossom's branches were slender and closely packed, a risky climb that could easily lead to a fall or scratches.

I was about to go fetch a ladder, but she blocked me.

"No ladders. I want you to pick it with your own hands. What if the ladder ruins the blossoms?"

When I hesitated, Chester gave me an icy look, clearly annoyed. "Are you deaf or something?"

Biting back my frustration, I rolled up my sleeves and started to climb.

The fine branches scratched at my skin, leaving behind little trails of blood.

From below, Wendy kept barking orders.

"Higher, just a bit higher!"

As I strained to reach further, a sudden snap sounded from below.

The branch gave way, and I tumbled down.

Branch after branch slashed at my skin as I fell, some of the thinner ones even embedding themselves in my flesh.

With a heavy thud, I hit the ground.

I hit the ground hard, the cherry blossom Wendy asked for still gripped tightly in my hand. Shaking off the daze, I reached out with a shaky hand to present the flower.

Wendy caught sight of it, and her lips quivered, her eyes welling up with tears. "Chester, my flower's ruined!"

Chester pulled her into a comforting embrace, casting a stern glance my way. "How can you mess up picking a flower and hurt yourself in the process?

"Bad luck follows you. Get out of here!"

I mumbled an acknowledgment, steadying myself to stand.

Maybe feeling a twinge of sympathy, Chester came over and took hold of my arm. "Never mind, you'd never make it back at this rate."

I did not resist, choosing instead to savor that fleeting moment of kindness that was mine.

However, I could feel a piercing gaze on my back, as if trying to bore through me.

The maid's quarters never felt so crowded.

The venom Wendy had shown earlier was gone. She sat by my bed, tears streaming down her face as she tended to my wounds.

"Does it hurt?"

Her words were gentle, but her hands were not, pressing the cotton swab firmly into my injury.

I clenched my teeth against the pain, shaking my head.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Chester watching my wound intently. He must have seen Wendy's roughness, but he stood by, hands in pockets, silently condoning her actions.

After Wendy finished, I was drenched in a cold sweat from the pain.

He did not spare me a glance; instead, he took a handkerchief and tenderly wiped the tears from Wendy's eyes.

"Enough crying. She's getting what she deserves, and she didn't even do a good job."

Wendy nestled into Chester's arms, and I looked away, unable to watch.

On the table was the bouquet Chester gave me earlier. Despite days of careful tending, it wilted, its colors faded.

After escorting Wendy out, Chester came back.

He pressed his lips together, his face unreadable.

"Wendy's always been a bit of a kid at heart. Don't sweat the small stuff she pulled earlier."

His voice softened as he spoke, a tender smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

"She's really quite sweet, you know. However, she gets our situation, and sometimes she just needs to let off some steam.

"In a few days, once we've made it official with the engagement, I'll hook you up with a plane ticket. Go see the world, take a break, you deserve it."

He cleared his throat, the smile fading.

"We're going to be sharing our lives, and I really hope you won't hold any grudges against her."

He's probably worried I would not play nice with Wendy down the line.

However, hey, if he's offering me a ticket to anywhere, maybe it's not such a bad idea to just not come back, I thought.

After Chester saw I was not upset, he left me with a few parting words.

I grabbed my bag and started packing – a few clothes, the essentials. I was there for over twenty years, and it felt like home.

However, sticking around? I just did not have it in me.

Buried in my bag was the charm Chester got for me when he was fifteen. He went to church, lit a candle, and prayed for me.

He said my safety was all that mattered, as long as I was by his side.

I held the charm one last time before pulling it out of the bag.

If I were cutting ties, I could not leave any strings attached.

Lately, Wendy stuck close to the Grahams.

It turned out they were getting hitched the day I was set to leave.

She did not let me have a moment alone with Chester, keeping me busy: climbing trees for flowers, fishing despite my still-healing wounds.

Every time, it ended the same way: I was left battered and bruised, her grip forcing me under the water until I was gasping for air.

Her gaze was pure, her laughter bright and full of innocence, as if she were incapable of cruelty.

Chester knew. He always knew, and he let it happen, even suggested I just put up with it.

"She's just blowing off steam. Pretend you're playing with a kid," he would say.

I kept silent, only daring to tend to my wounds in the quiet of the night.

The day before they were to announce their engagement, I was summoned to a grand room.

Opening the door, I was met with the sight of Chester, sharp and handsome in a sleek black suit, his usually unruly hair then slicked back, framing his striking eyes.

My cheeks burned as he looked my way.

Before I could collect myself, Wendy, radiant in her wedding dress, thrust a camera at me.

"Ann, can you take our picture? We really love this set," she said, her arm wrapped around Chester.

Her smile was as bright as ever, but it always seemed to hide a sneer just for me.

My hands shook as I lifted the camera, Chester's tender gaze in the viewfinder reserved only for Wendy.

That tenderness, I realized, was something I only ever felt from him in the secrecy of our nights together, something I would never experience again.

After snapping their final kiss, the camera felt like a lead weight in my hands, and I passed it back to Wendy.

She accepted it with a grin, showering me with compliments on my photography skills.

Chester must have sensed my distress and asked if I was okay.

I kept my gaze low, blinked back the sting of tears, and forced a wide smile.

"I'm okay," I lied.

He did not question me further and motioned for me to leave.

As the door shut behind me, their laughter echoed, a stark contrast to the silence of my own heart.

The morning after the engagement party, I found myself staring at my phone screen. Chester sent over a plane ticket. Then, another message popped up.

[Stay safe out there. I'm waiting for you to come home.]

That extra bit of tenderness would have once had me replying in an instant, maybe even saving a screenshot to swoon over later, tucked away in my bed, eagerly anticipating his next caring check-in.

However, things changed. I barely gave the message a second glance before I hit delete and walked away, suitcase in hand, without a backward glance.