“Mr. Lyons, please don't fight with Miss Sullivan because of me.”

“She's right, my skills really aren't up to par. I've already submitted my resignation. Please approve it when you can.”

Ethel walked into the room with reddened eyes, and the moment she finished speaking, the tears spilled over, her cheeks flushing again. Her gaze drifted to me.

“Miss Sullivan, I truly never meant to come between you and Mr. Lyons.”

I tugged at the corner of my mouth.

“You already have.”

Then I took the bank card Mrs. Lawrence had left and shoved it into her hand.

“This is the betrothal money from your Mr. Lyons's mother. It's yours now.”

Ethel froze, her eyes shifting uneasily to Jude.

His expression went completely dark, his voice thick with anger.

“Marina. Don't regret this.”

He grabbed Ethel's wrist and walked out without looking back.

He was almost at the door when I called after him.

“Jude.”

His steps faltered, but his hand was still holding Ethel's.

“You have ten hours to move out of my apartment.”

The next morning, the police called to say they'd found the hit-and-run driver.

I wasn't good at dealing with that kind of thing, so I hired a lawyer to handle all of it.

Frieda came to pick me up from the hospital. When she heard what had happened between me and Jude, she insisted I stay at her place.

I gave her a reassuring smile and asked her to take me home instead.

She looked at me with that pained expression, but finally gave in.

I punched in the door code. In the entryway sat a pair of men's leather shoes.

I pulled out my phone to call Jude, but before I could, messages started coming in from mutual friends.

【Marina! Heard you and Jude are having the wedding next Tuesday? Congrats! Ten years and you're finally making it official. I'll definitely be there!】

【Congratulations! That guy Jude really lucked out.】

I stared at my phone, not understanding.

A wedding? Next week?

While I was still trying to make sense of it, Ethel came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of instant noodles topped with a fried egg and meatballs.

“Miss Sullivan, you're back?”

She flinched at the sight of me, and her hand shook. Half the broth splashed onto her hand. The rest hit the rug.

Jude heard the commotion and came striding out of the bedroom. He took her hand and led her to the kitchen, running cold water over the burn.

He didn't look at the rug once.

He'd had that rug brought back from overseas last year.

I was never allowed to sit on it and eat snacks, or drink coffee near it, or even step on it barefoot.

Now it was ruined.

And all he could see was Ethel's hand.

Frieda's eyes went red with fury. She started toward the kitchen to give them a piece of her mind, but I shook my head, signaling that I could handle it, and asked her to leave.

Two minutes later, they came out of the kitchen.

I was leaning against the couch, watching Ethel.

“Who told you you could come into my home?”

Ethel flinched, shrinking back instinctively, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I'm sorry, my blood sugar dropped and Mr. Lyons told me to come up and eat something. I didn't mean to……”

My gaze dropped to the knitted slippers on her feet, and my eyes went cold.

She followed my line of sight and rushed to explain.

“Mr. Lyons gave me these slippers. I said disposable ones would be fine, but he said the floor was cold and told me to wear these……”

Jude stepped forward, putting himself between us.

“They're just slippers. Why are you scaring her?”

My throat tightened. I let out a cold laugh, my voice rising.

“Just slippers?”

“Jude, my mother knitted those for me!”

“When she was dying, what did you promise her?”

My chest heaved and my eyes brimmed with tears.

No response. His eyes met mine, perfectly calm. Like still water.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth in a bitter half-smile, forced the breakdown back down, and pointed at the door.

“Get out. My mother bought me this apartment.”

“Or I'm calling the police.”

Jude didn't flinch. He pulled out a property purchase agreement and tossed it on the table.

“Ethel likes this place. I'll pay three times market value. It'll be our marital home.”

I froze where I stood, barely trusting my own ears.

It took a long time before the meaning of the message I'd just received caught up to this moment.

When I didn't speak, Jude's tone stayed flat.

“If you don't want to sell, that's fine.”

“I'll buy the unit across the hall and renovate it to match.”

My phone buzzed. A message from William Dickerson, one of Jude's boys.

【Marina, don't listen to Jude's nonsense. The whole wedding thing with that secretary is just a power play to make you cave. Don't take it seriously!】

【Besides, you two have been together ten years. You're obviously not going to leave him. Just stop fighting.】

I stared at my phone. The absurdity of it was almost funny.

Then I signed my name on the contract.

I packed some of my clothes without hurrying, booked a moving company through my phone to handle the rest, and dragged my suitcase out the door.

Over the next two days, mutual friends kept dropping wedding details into my messages, some subtle, some not.

I muted every single one and blocked their social media.

Tuesday morning, Frieda drove me to the airport and pulled me into a hug.

“When you make it big, you better fly me out.”

I smiled and nodded.

Before boarding, I took out my phone and sent Jude one last message.

【Congratulations on your wedding. Consider the last ten years my gift.】