Chapter 3

Elsie froze, the color draining from her face in an instant. Three years ago, she went all in for love—drugged William and ended up in his bed. But even through the haze of alcohol that night, she remembered it clearly. His breath was hot against her ear, his voice low and tipsy as he called her by her nickname, “Ellie.” That whisper had fooled her. Made her think she'd won a gamble. Then came the wedding night—him nowhere in sight. Then the cold shoulder, the way he shut her out completely afterward. Only then did she realize—whatever warmth she thought she felt that night, it was probably just drunken fantasy. She couldn’t have been more wrong. He never loved her. Heck, she probably wasn’t even a blip on his radar. Her throat tightened painfully. She barely managed a whisper: “I’m sorry.” “Sorry?” William let out a sudden mocking laugh that cut through the silence. “You’ve got the wrong person.” He leaned in closer, eyes flashing with something harsher than sarcasm—something unreadable. “Shouldn’t that apology go to Liam? After all, he was about to marry you. Until he walked in and saw his fiancée naked in his big brother’s bed.” Elsie went stiff all over. The name “Liam” was like a brand pressed into her heart. Shame. Guilt. All of it came crashing over her. She clenched her fingers around her sleeve, knuckles white. Head bowed low, she could only murmur again, “I’m sorry…” William stared hard at her, his voice sharp and biting, like winter wind. “Get out.” She blinked. “I’ll have the driver come pick you up,” he said coldly, already unlocking the car. The door swung open, and an icy gust twisted in, flakes of snow glinting under the car light. Was he just… done with her? She lowered her head, gripping her hands tight, silent. Seeing she wasn’t moving, his tone turned impatient. “Don’t make me say it twice.” Biting her lip, Elsie quietly undid the seatbelt and stepped out. The cold slapped her awake a little. She turned to look back inside the car, gathering up her courage. “Actually, that night three years ago, I…” But before she could finish, the door slammed shut. And just like that, the warmth was gone. So was the only connection between them. The car roared off into the night without hesitation. Left standing alone on the side of an empty road, she waited. For what felt like forever. But the promised driver never showed. Brushing the snow off her shoulders, she tightened her coat, muttering, “Winter’s brutal, huh?” She rubbed her hands together, breathing warm air onto her palms. The steam vanished in a blink—just like her love. Gone before it ever settled. Maybe it was the cold. Maybe it was something else. Either way, she gave up waiting. Reached into her pocket, trying to call a ride—only to realize her phone was still in the car. Of course. Because why wouldn’t it be? Way to go, Elsie. The street was eerily quiet. Just the echo of her footsteps on the pavement. Every now and then, the sound of her stomping to keep warm joined in—as if her dying marriage were knocking from the grave. She walked through the falling snow for two whole hours. It was around midnight when she finally made it home. Her body and mind were both wiped out, so she didn’t even bother with a shower—she just collapsed onto the bed and knocked out. The next morning, she thought William had pulled his usual disappearing act. But no, there he was, sitting at the dining table, calmly sipping soup like he had all the time in the world. Whether he got back last night or just showed up, she had no clue. Elsie froze at the top of the stairs, fingers nervously picking at the railing. She stood there for a moment, unsure how to start. “What are you standing there for?” William glanced up but didn’t really look at her. “Come eat. We've got to head to the old house early.” “…Okay.” Her throat felt scratchy, and she had to cough twice before she made her way down, quietly pulling out a chair and sitting. “Caught a cold?” His tone was flat, unreadable. Elsie didn’t want to make it a thing. She shook her head at the man responsible, her voice low. “Nope.” Like hell she didn’t. She’d walked two hours in snow and wind just to get home, nearly froze, but of course she wouldn’t say that. It’s not like he’d care, and bringing it up would only make her look pathetic. William gave her a quick once-over, but didn’t say anything else. After breakfast, Elsie went upstairs to grab her bag. When she came back down, he was already in the car, but now there was a cup of cold medicine left on the table. She assumed Lisa Smith, the housekeeper, had made it. The sudden warmth in her chest caught her off guard. Guess Lisa wasn’t as indifferent as she looked. Standing near the kitchen, she called out, “Thanks, Lisa!” Then she quickly chugged the medicine and rushed to put on her shoes. William was super impatient—she didn’t dare keep him waiting. In the kitchen, Lisa looked confused. She turned her head, puzzled by the thank you, and watched as Elsie headed out the door with quick strides, still not understanding where the gratitude had come from. The ride to the old house was quiet. Not a word between them. Elsie just stared out the window, distracted by the passing scenery. Their house was in the city, while the old place was out in the suburbs. Every fifteenth, they had to go back. She dreaded these visits. Because every time, it was like getting dragged into a humiliation Olympics. Eric Harper, William’s assistant, parked the car smoothly. “Mr. Harding, Mrs. Harding, we’re here.” William didn’t respond. Elsie smiled politely at Eric as she got out. Then, putting on her best face, she reached out and linked arms with William as they walked up to the door. But he shrugged her off immediately. Startled, she looked at him. “What’s wrong?” “Elsie, you really don’t drop character, do you?” His voice was laced with sarcasm. He flung her hand away and walked ahead, leaving nothing behind but a cold back and a mockery of a smile. Whatever warmth was left on her face disappeared. The smile faded, leaving only stiffness behind. She took a deep breath and pretended nothing happened, following him in as if all were normal. “Thomas. Margaret.” Thomas Harding glanced over from his financial newspaper. “You’re back,” he said flatly. Margaret Hall didn’t even lift her eyes from where she sat on the couch. It was like Elsie didn’t exist at all. The awkward silence made Elsie feel like shrinking. She stood there, not knowing where to place her hands. Even before she married into the Hardings, she’d always felt out of place here. Marrying William only made things worse. “Mom,” William said suddenly, giving his mother a glance. “Elsie said hello to you.” Margaret finally let out a reluctant "Hmm." The moment Elsie sat down on the sofa, William and his father headed upstairs to the study, leaving her alone with Margaret again—a situation she could never relax in. Sure enough, as soon as the Harding men left, Margaret slammed her teacup hard onto the coffee table. The sound echoed, sharp and jarring. Her eyes were laced with venom as she threw a glare at Elsie. "You still have the nerve to come back? It's the fifteenth—families gather today, and look at this mess! If you hadn't pulled that disgusting trick and drugged William that night, Liam wouldn’t have taken off abroad for three whole years!" “He hasn’t even called once during all that time. Wonder why? Because of some shameless witch like you who broke his heart!” Color drained from Elsie’s face, little by little. Those words—she’d been hearing them for three years straight. They clung to her like some cursed loop, each repetition cutting into her like razors. Margaret leaned in closer, anger practically seething out of her. “And William—he and Grace were perfect for each other! You just had to barge in and wreck it all!” "The old man gave you three years. Time’s almost up. Soon you’ll finally be out of this house. I can’t wait to see how you’re planning to cling on then." Her voice grew louder, her eyes narrowed with clear disgust. “Don’t even think about pulling another stunt to stay by William’s side. Even if you got pregnant on purpose, you’d still get kicked out of the Harding family.” If looks could kill, Margaret’s would’ve left Elsie in pieces. Elsie took a shaky breath, trying hard to swallow the bitterness in her chest. Her voice came out low, heavy with pain. “I won’t.” She’d seen the facts clearly over these years—William’s heart was ice-cold. No matter what she did, she could never warm it. He never loved her. Not once. So why keep lying to herself? Margaret, seeing her subdued like this, finally looked a bit satisfied. “Well, at least you know your place now.” She eased her tone just slightly, though her words still held that superior, dismissive edge. “I watched you grow up. And these years, I won’t lie, you’ve done your part. Once you and William get that divorce signed, it’s over. I’ll give you some money. More than enough for you to live a comfortable life.” “After that, we’re done. No debts left between us.” No debts left… Elsie’s eyes were eerily calm, like still water with no ripple. "I don't want the money." Margaret blinked, clearly caught off guard. She gave Elsie a long look. “No money? Then what are you after?” Something else flashed through her eyes—suspicion mixed with mockery. “Don’t tell me you still think William will fall for you? Or maybe you’re hoping Liam will come back and pull some miracle reunion with you?” The words stung. Elsie opened her mouth to fire back— Only to be cut off by a cold, scornful voice from the stairs. "Don't even dream about it." She looked up and saw William standing there, no telling how long he’d been listening. His eyes locked onto her, emotionless. Like he was watching a fool putting on a pathetic show.