Chapter 2
After getting the divorce certificate, I quietly ended my pregnancy alone.
Taking the large portion of assets Alex had divided for me, I found a picturesque little town in Switzerland to recover.
They found me an eyesore; two years passed, and not a single phone call came from my closest relatives. I was content with the peace and quiet.
Until recently, when my sister called. “Chloe, Dad is seriously ill. Come back to see him one last time.”
Dying? Well, that might be worth going back to enjoy the show.
So, I boarded a flight home.
When I arrived home, the dark, oppressive clouds hung very low, signaling an impending storm.
As soon as I pushed open the door, my eyes fell on vivid red celebratory decorations. My father sat solemnly on the couch, his stern gaze sweeping over me. Isabelle seemed oblivious, clinging affectionately to my father’s arm, playfully coaxing him, and his usually strict gaze instantly softened with doting affection.
I’d lived through such blatant favoritism for over a decade, and the pain had long since dulled.
But clearly, he was perfectly healthy.
“Father, I heard you were seriously ill?” I raised an eyebrow, smiling as I looked at my sister.
“You brat!” A glass cup whizzed past my forehead, shattering into pieces.
A sharp sting on my forehead, and I turned to leave. My sister seemed to react just then, quickly rolling her wheelchair to my side, affectionately grabbing my hand.
She had changed so much.
Before, she was always arrogant and overbearing with me.
Now, she appeared much calmer on the surface, but her eyes held a hint of deranged madness and a sick obsession.
I guessed that being unable to dance ever again was a huge blow to her.
After all, once, simply because a dance teacher praised my talent, she secretly scattered marbles on the stairs.
Luckily, someone discovered Isabelle’s actions and warned me. But I still followed Isabelle’s unspoken wish and fell. I controlled my fall, making it not too light, not too heavy, but pretending it was very serious.
I missed the chance to participate in the dance competition.
From then on, I deliberately hid my talents, choosing to be Isabelle’s shadow.
How could such a fiercely competitive person like her endure needing help even with basic bodily functions?
My sister forced a gentle smile. “Chloe, on such a joyous day, what silly things are you saying?”
At this point, there was nothing I didn’t understand. They had tricked me into coming back to witness Alex and Isabelle’s wedding.
Meeting my sister’s hidden smugness and challenging gaze, I replied calmly and sincerely, “Then, congratulations to you both in advance, sister and brother-in-law. May you have a hundred years of harmony and many children.”
Isabelle’s challenging smile froze on her lips. The person who had just opened the door and stepped in paused, his steps faltering for a moment.
“Alex!”
My sister called out cheerfully.
Two years had softened Alex’s youthful sharp edges, adding a newfound tenderness. He walked past me, his hands behind his back, and knelt in front of Isabelle’s wheelchair. His familiar voice carried a doting tone I’d never heard before. “Guess what today is?”
My sister chirped with delight and pride. “I smell it! It’s jasmine!”
Alex took the jasmine flowers he’d hidden behind his back and placed them in Isabelle’s arms. He seemed to notice me only then, giving me a polite nod. “Chloe’s back.”
We just looked at each other, and I smiled and nodded.
Isabelle linked her arm through Alex’s and enthusiastically invited me, “My wedding is next week. Why don’t you stay here at home until then?”
“No need.”
I refused directly. Isabelle immediately looked wronged, her eyes filling with tears. “Chloe, are you still mad at me and Alex for being together…?”
Seeing my sister cry, Alex frowned at me. It was clearly a warning, yet his eyes held a mix of curiosity and secret delight.
“Don’t worry, brother-in-law is just brother-in-law. I’ll attend the wedding.”
Alex’s lips tightened into a thin line, and Isabelle’s face was a picture, like she’d just swallowed a lemon.
It was strange. I was doing exactly what they wanted, yet the two in front of me looked unhappy.
But soon, it was my turn to be unhappy.
As I prepared to leave, the dark, oppressive clouds finally unleashed a torrential downpour. The rain was too fierce; I had no choice but to stay the night.
At dinner, facing a group of truly sickening faces, I had no appetite. At night, I tried to force myself to sleep, but my stomach rumbled like thunder, protesting.
Creeping into the kitchen in the dark to find something to eat, I accidentally knocked over a glass.
Before it could fall, a large hand with prominent knuckles caught the cup mid-air.
Alex remained in his forward-leaning posture, catching the cup, trapping me between him and the counter. His voice was slightly hoarse. “How can I be at ease when you take such poor care of yourself?”
Closer now, he saw the wound on my forehead.
“Does it hurt?” He reached out to touch it, but I pulled away.
A fleeting flicker of pain crossed his eyes, and Alex’s voice held a dangerous edge. “Did he hit you again?”
“It has nothing to do with you.”
“How can it have nothing to do with me!”
I looked directly into Alex’s eyes, watching his agitated emotions cool inch by inch under my steady gaze.
“I apologize. I was worried Isabelle might overthink things earlier, but I still want to ask you, how have the past few years been for you?”
“Without you, I naturally haven’t been able to sleep, my heart ripped to shreds.”
As Alex looked on in shock, I grabbed his tie, pulling him towards me.
“Satisfied with that answer?”
“Brother-in-law.”
Ignoring the now petrified Alex, I turned and went upstairs. Only when I was safely tucked into the soft bed did I finally let out a long breath.
His distressed expression when he saw my injury didn’t seem feigned, just like the young man who, years ago, would furiously lash out for me whenever he saw me hurt.
Alex had been mature beyond his years, yet his first act of rebellion was hitting my father. Although the Miller family was more powerful than the Dubois family, my father was still an elder. That time, Alex was pressured by his own father to apologize, and though the cane lashed fiercely against him, he bit his lip and didn’t utter a sound.
Later, as I cried while applying ointment to his bloody, bruised back, my tears falling onto him, he could still smile and wipe away my tears, saying it was worth it.
But nothing lasts, not even the purest joy of young love.