Chapter 6

Steve had always been high and mighty. There was no way he would personally ask me to continue preparing his vegetarian meals. But he was an extremely picky eater, and he expected very high standards for his food. So, he called Jake and ordered, "Find a chef who specializes in vegetarian cuisine. The salary isn't an issue. I want to see them tomorrow." It was then that Isabel, who had been acting like a wronged houseguest since the moment she arrived, finally spoke up. "Ms. Yaxley, I know you have issues with me. I do understand I'm kind of intruding by coming to live here with Dorothy…" My expression remained calm as I countered, "If you know you're intruding, then why do you still have the nerve to move in? Is there nowhere else in this world for you and your daughter to live besides my home with Steve? Is there no other way for you to have a roof over her head besides being the other woman?" Isabel's face turned pale. She wanted to argue, but she held herself back. She teared up as she turned to look at Steve pitifully. Only I noticed how tightly her fingers were clenched beneath the tablecloth. Dorothy might have been young, but she could sense the hostility in my voice. Frightened, she ran to Steve and climbed onto his lap. Then, she asked in a small voice, "Daddy, who is this lady? She's so scary…" Steve said gently, "Don't be afraid, Dorothy. She's not a bad person." He shot me a warning look. However, he didn't lash out at me in front of Isabel. I figured it was probably because he had brought them home right under my nose. I was being cooperative by not stirring trouble or throwing a tantrum. So, no matter what, he was the one in the wrong. He couldn't very well expect me to accept his mistress and smile politely while doing it. Since Isabel failed to provoke a fight between Steve and me, her displeasure was obvious. All of the vegetarian dishes on the table tasted like cardboard to her. I couldn't help but sneer inwardly. Steve had been a staunch vegetarian for three whole years. I loved to eat meat, but I gave it up and ate the same meals as he did for the last three years. Isabel wanted to steal my man, but she couldn't even get past the first hurdle. I was done eating, so I set down my fork and left the table under their various complicated gazes. When I got back to the guest room, I took a deep breath and looked around the house I had lived in for nearly four years. I had moved from the master bedroom to the guest room. I guessed that made me more of a guest in this house now. I hadn't slept at all the night before. When I tried to catch up on rest in the afternoon, there came a knock at the door. When I opened it, Isabel was standing outside, holding a large bag. She said softly, "I'm sorry, Ms. Yaxley. These are the wedding photos of you and Steve. He said it wouldn't be good for Dorothy to see them, so could you please put them away?" I replied indifferently, "No need. Just throw them in the trash." I was about to close the door. Seeing that I was unfazed and didn't get mad, Isabel refused to give up. She quickly braced her hand against the doorframe and said gently, "Ms. Yaxley, Dorothy is a secret between Steve and me. There are reasons we can't talk about. Don't be upset about it. Once we leave, you can hang these photos back up." So they shared a secret and had reasons they couldn't talk about. I was clearly just a prop in their little game. I had no desire to continue talking to her. Not saying another word, I took the bag from her and tossed it carelessly into my room. The glass frames inside shattered on impact. Isabel froze, clearly shocked. When she saw there wasn't the slightest hint of sadness on my face, disbelief flickered across her features. In her eyes, I was probably a bitter wife betrayed by her husband. She expected me to squat on the floor and clutch the broken glass while sobbing my heart out. I glanced sideways at the bag on the floor and said coolly, "Alright, I've put the photos away. Is there anything else? Do you need me to store something else? Should I put away the bed Steve and I slept in, too?" Isabel was rendered speechless. Her delicate, beautiful features contorted with resentment. But the only response she got was me slamming the door in her face. I didn't take a single photo out of the bag and just left it by the door. Later, I would have Maria throw it out. After waking from my nap, I opened Instagram and saw a new friend request. The profile picture was Dorothy. I didn't even need to think to know it was Isabel behind it. I didn't reject the request but accepted it instead. Sure enough, just as I had guessed, this was going to be an incessant emotional attack via social media around the clock. I should have ignored it. Still, my fingers betrayed me. I tapped into her Instagram page. As expected of someone from the entertainment industry, Isabel knew exactly how to conceal herself. There wasn't a single photo of the happy family of three. In fact, there wasn't even a clear photo of her. However, Steve and Dorothy were shown in the photos, in high definition no less. Every special date featured a set of photos arranged into grids and paired with carefully written captions. When I was pregnant, I couldn't help imagining what Steve would be like as a father. The irony was brutal. What I yearned to see wasn't fulfilled through my own life but through his mistress's social media. I scrolled down slowly, trying to see when Steve's affair had actually begun. My finger stopped at one particular date. It wasn't the day Steve cheated. Instead, it was the darkest day of my entire life.