Chapter 8
Harlan glared at Bonnie, gritting his teeth, but he couldn’t think of anything to retort.
She was right–he knew all along that she wasn’t confused. It was just an excuse for them to hook up.
Now that I left, they started to blame each other.
He took a deep breath, no longer wasting time arguing with her.
Grabbing his car keys, he walked out to look for me.
***
The plane landed in Los Angeles on the very day of the Flower Festival.
I rented a room at the B&B, looking at the bustling crowd through the window with lonely eyes.
Their smiles touched me, and I was no longer that tense.
I hadn’t come back to Los Angeles since getting married.
At first, I was busy learning to be Harlan’s perfect wife, mingling with the upper class every day.
As time passed by, I gradually forgot who I really was.
Everyone addressed me warmly as Mrs. Trivett.
But my name was Fiona Olson.
I spent a couple of days at the B&B. Perhaps noticing that I had never
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Chapter 1
gone out, a young woman who worked here brought me a slice of freshly made light cheesecake.
She stood at the door, blushing shyly. Even the freckles on her cheeks. seemed so adorable.
“Ms. Olson, you’ve been cooped up in your room those days.
“Los Angeles is a wonderful place, and you should get out more. Here- try some light cheesecake. It’s a local specialty.”
She looked at me, and I saw the concern in her eyes.
Smiling, I accepted the cake and took a bite in front of her.
“It’s very tasty. Thank you.”
She seemed relieved noticing my stable mood.
“I’m glad. Hey, remember–get out more!”
After she left, I took another bite.
It was the same as I remembered.
I had decided to make dos with my life, yet the familiar taste suddenly made me realize something, and I had a change of heart.
Harlan cheated on me and broke his promises.
Why should I end up being the one being tortured?
Back in school, my grades were as outstanding as his.
This understanding freed me. I no longer tortured myself and stopped shutting out everything by hiding in my shell.
15.10 D
”
After some simple wash–up, I stepped out of the door.
I became part of the bustling world again.
Over the years, Harlan had given me sums of money; coupled with the so- called compensation, I now had about a million dollars.
The interest alone was enough for me to live on without working.
I wandered aimlessly down the street, warmed by the sunshine in spring.
Back at the B&B, I saw the young woman cleaning up.
Her eyes lit up when she saw me.
“What did I say? Los Angeles is great. Isn’t it?”
I nodded and gave her a wind chime I’d bought for her.
We got along.
She told me her name was Verda Manning, and she had just graduated.
At a loss for what to do, she came back here and got a job.
“What about you, Fiona? What do you do for a living?”
She looked at me, her innocent eyes filled with curiosity.
I thought about it and realized there was nothing much to say.
She figured I was unemployed and changed the subject.
“Fiona, are you gonna settle down in Los Angeles? You’re so pretty. I think you can be one of those beauty or travel bloggers.”
She was younger than me and more internet–savvy.
