Chapter 3

Selena suddenly ran down the stairs and shouted, "This wedding dress is beautiful, Ianie. Can you give it to me?" "Give your wedding dress to Selena, Dahlia," commanded Ian. "Lena is young and beautiful, so she'd look great in it. On the other hand, you're immersed in housework all the time. An old hag who is out of shape has no business wearing a wedding dress!" "Oh my, Ianie! You're so nice to me!" exclaimed Selena. I had meticulously designed the wedding dress for our wedding, perfecting it time and again over the course of five years. I'd put all my love and effort into making it, so it was no wonder Selena liked it. Ian looked into my bloodshot eyes and said coolly, "Stop being so petty. Name your price." How much could a five-year marriage where one had to work like a dog as their husband's housekeeper be worth? How much could a wedding and wedding dress that nobody looked forward to be worth? I couldn't be bothered to figure it out. All I knew was that when I refused to give up my seat next to Ian to Selena on the Ferris wheel last time, I'd been locked up in the Ferris wheel cabin for an entire night. My phone screen lit up, and I lowered my head to glance down at it. The message on the screen read, "I've already handed in the registration form. I'm coming to pick you up." I calmly unlocked the glass display cabinet containing the wedding dress before returning to the guest bedroom, no longer paying attention to Ian and Sleena's disgusting flirting. … Later that night, I was looking through information on the recent competitions being hosted by various racing clubs when Selena knocked on my door. I didn't have much to say to her. As such, I tried to close the door upon seeing that it was her, but she stopped me. She glanced condescendingly at me from the doorway and said sarcastically, "After not seeing you for some time, you've learned to act smarter." I didn't want to argue with her and simply replied indifferently, "I don't know what you're talking about. I'd like to rest now." The corners of Selena's mouth tugged up into a disdainful smile. She took a step closer to me and whispered in my ear, "I heard you'll never be able to conceive again." I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth, staring Selena down. Selena smiled in satisfaction. "How about a bet? Guess how long it'll take for me to be pregnant with Ian's child. Guess where the fruit juice from three years ago came from as well." I closed my eyes, barely suppressing my anger as I said shakily, "Get lost." After she left, I slid to the floor and leaned against the door, unable to support my own weight any longer. I covered my face, unable to hold back my sobs. Selena was right. I could no longer have a child of my own. When I was pregnant with my first child, I suffered a miscarriage after drinking a fruit juice Ian brought home with him. When I was carrying my second child, Shawn covered the staircase in oil, causing me to slip and fall on the stairs. I bit my lip and tried my best to suppress my sobs, but the pain felt like countless needles piercing into my skin. It was as if I could feel the pain right down to the marrow. The next morning, I was awakened by the sounds of laughter coming from the backyard. When I opened the window, I saw Selena playing with Shawn in the garden. Ian was sitting off to the side, watching them with a gentle gaze. Anyone who looked at them would think they were family. I closed the window, but that didn't prevent the sounds from the garden from carrying upstairs. I picked up my bag, prepared to go out and complete the competition registration procedures, such as my identity verification. Just as I was about to leave, I heard Selena call out, "Hey, are you going out? I want to eat pastries from that one shop in an alley in Northallerton. Buy some for me." Selena approached me, her gaze filled with smugness. "Sorry for troubling you, Ms. Dahlia." She deliberately emphasized the "miss" as she eyed me condescendingly. My gaze landed on the bruises around her neck. When I thought back to her words last night, I reflexively clenched my fists. I practically ran out of the house. After completing the necessary paperwork, I wandered around outside for an entire evening before slowly making my way home. I placed the pastries on the coffee table before getting ready to make my way upstairs. Ian's angry voice rang out from behind me. "Aren't you even going to greet me after coming home?" When I remained motionless, he spoke up again in a colder tone. "Come here." I placed my shoes on the shoe rack with an indifferent expression. "I'm not going to repeat myself, Dahlia Shannon." I could hear the warning in his tone. I didn't want to cause a scene at this final stage, so I had no choice but to walk over to him. He looked at me with a frown, then asked, "Where were you doing outside all day today? Don't you know you're expected to cook for Lena and Shawnie? You can't even do your job as a housewife properly. Because of you, we were forced to eat fast food." "Nothing much. I was just strolling around," I said flatly. The coldness in my voice struck a strange chord within Ian. He placed a spoonful of diced carrots onto a plate and handed it to me. Then, he asked in a gentler tone, "You haven't eaten, have you? You should eat before you head back to your room." I looked down at the carrots on the plate and laughed self-deprecatingly. "I'm allergic to carrots, Ian. I can't eat these at all." He was momentarily stunned. Before he could react, I'd already turned around and left the dining room. When I came out of the bathroom after my shower, I saw Ian sitting on my bed and looking through my laptop. I hid the disgust in my eyes and asked, "Is there something you need from me?" He answered my question with one of his own. "Why does your room seem a lot emptier?" My heart skipped a beat at his words. I was afraid that he'd catch on to something that would disrupt my plans to leave. "I got tired of seeing certain items and wanted a change of pace," I replied. He nodded, seemingly believing my words. However, his next words made my heart leap into my throat. He stood up, walked over to me, and said in a low voice, "Someone sent you a message just now, asking when you'll be returning to the racing track. What racing track? Why don't I know—" I hurriedly cut him off, replying with feigned calm, "It's just a racing track in a game. Don't overthink it." He gazed intently at me. I didn't know whether he believed me, but he didn't say anything else in the end. I lay on my bed, assuming that he'd leave after he was done with his questions. Instead, he reached out to wrap his arms around my waist a moment later. I was so startled that I couldn't help but let out a yelp. I immediately placed my hands against his chest and pushed. Ian felt a flash of anxiety at my violent reaction. I clearly used to be so proactive and eager in initiating intimate contact with him, yet I reacted so strongly and negatively to his touch today. He lowered his head, his warm breath puffing over my ear. I simply couldn't bear it anymore and shoved him forcefully away. I panted slightly and said in a strained voice, "Sorry… I'm not feeling too well today."