Chapter 3
Just thinking about leaving the Richardsons made me unconsciously burst out laughing when I saw Julian.
After coming out of Mom’s bedroom, I kept giggling for no particular reason.
Julian, who was sitting on the couch, finally couldn’t take it anymore.
“What’s so funny? Care to share?”
I scoffed, turning my head away, still daydreaming about my life after leaving.
My blatant disregard actually seemed to annoy Julian, who was usually so composed.
“Scarlett, it’s time to go home. You’ve visited your mom, you can’t possibly stay the night.”
I wasn’t angry, but he was certainly acting like it.
Who said I couldn’t stay the night at my mom’s? He was being ridiculous.
“Julian, aren’t you being a bit too controlling? What’s the big deal if I sleep here at my mom’s? It’s not like I’m going back to anything but an empty bed anyway.”
“Tell me, in all the time I’ve been married to you, have you ever once slept in the same bed as me?”
“This marriage is nothing but a sham. What’s so special about it?”
The more I spoke, the more emotional I became, completely forgetting that Richard was also sitting in the living room.
Richard’s face turned an uncomfortable shade of red. He cleared his throat loudly, then awkwardly grabbed his newspaper and headed outside.
Julian clenched his fists, leaning on the sofa armrest. He knew I was impulsive, but he clearly never expected me to air our private matters in front of an elder.
Suddenly, he let out a cold chuckle, as if testing me.
“Are you mad because I haven’t slept with you? Is that all?”
My lips twisted.
“What, did you think I married you just to be a glorified widow?”
Julian almost choked on his own spit.
Seeing his guilt, I pressed on.
“I know why you never accepted me. You have someone else, but honestly, I don’t care. Who would want someone with an STD anyway?”
I’d made it crystal clear. I expected Julian to explode in anger or rush to explain himself, but he just quietly lowered his gaze.
“Guilty, as expected. That’s a silent confession.”
Just then, Mom stormed out of her bedroom, absolutely furious, holding a tiny, thong-like piece of lingerie. She marched straight down to the living room.
“Richard! Tell me, whose underwear is this?!”
Julian couldn’t watch. He pretended to be engrossed in his phone.
Richard rushed back inside at Mom’s shriek. When he saw what she was holding, his ears turned beet red.
“Victoria, it’s not what you think!”
Mom was surprisingly agile. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the thong right onto Richard’s head.
“Then what is it? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you and the housekeeper exchanging glances all the time!”
“And the smell on this? It’s clearly the housekeeper’s!”
Richard was speechless. He awkwardly pulled the underwear off his head and tossed it into the trash can.
“Fine, if you want to believe that, I can’t stop you. Assume it’s the housekeeper’s, then.”
Mom was even more enraged. He wasn’t just refusing to explain; he was practically admitting it!
Good thing we’d already planned our escape, otherwise these heartless father and son duo would literally drive us to our graves.
Mom just collapsed onto the floor, sobbing.
“Richard! You’re heartless! Who nursed you all night when you had a cold? Who waited up for you all night when you were out entertaining clients?”
“Even though we’re a second marriage, you can’t treat me like this!”
As Mom got more worked up, Richard had no choice but to humble himself and try to help her up.
But Mom suddenly went wild, grabbing him and laying into him with a barrage of blows.
I wanted to tell her, “We’re about to ‘die,’ Mom, there’s no need to waste our breath on them.”
But Mom seemed to have lost it, so I had to rush over and pull them apart.
In the chaos, Mom suddenly grabbed a nearby vase and hurled it at Richard.
And of course, I happened to be right there. The vase missed Richard and landed squarely on my head.
I felt something warm trickling down my forehead, and around me, I heard shouts and screams.
Before I blacked out, I saw Julian rushing towards me, his eyes wide with what looked like worry, like genuine heartache.
I must have been concussed. Julian didn’t even like me. Why would he be worried?