Chapter 3
Lydia spent the entire night packing, filling four large boxes.
At dawn, she had the servants carry the boxes to the backyard.
Lydia threw the first suit she had designed for Julian into the incinerator. As the flames rose, she continued tossing in everything connected to him, item by item.
With the burning of their final wedding photo, she seemed to see the fifteen-year-old boy who had been hit by a car while saving her disappear with the billowing black smoke.
The smoke made Lydia’s eyes water. She covered her nose and coughed violently, tears streaming down her face.
Her mood had never felt lighter. The weight that had been pressing on her heart was gone.
Everything she had once treasured could be so easily burned away.
Apparently, giving up someone who didn’t love her was surprisingly simple.
Lydia wiped away her tears and returned to her room.
She took a hot bath, changed into pajamas, and fell into a deep sleep.
She woke up in the evening and instinctively reached for her phone, opening her conversation with Julian. Every time she slept, she worried about missing his messages.
But the next second, she came to her senses and smiled self-mockingly. Some bad habits would take time to break.
Neither before nor now had Julian ever messaged her first.
Lydia put down her phone, threw on a robe, and went downstairs. She’d slept all day and was feeling hungry.
Just as she reached the living room, the front door opened, and Julian and Vera walked in.
Vera’s arm was tightly linked with Julian’s, who carried several shopping bags.
Upon seeing Lydia, Julian instinctively frowned, the smile on his face gradually cooling.
Lydia caught his reaction but showed no emotion, simply glancing at them calmly before heading toward the kitchen.
“Seems Miss Reed doesn’t welcome me,” Vera suddenly said, clearly displeased. “If that’s the case, I’ll leave.”
Julian quickly caught Vera as she turned to go and looked up at Lydia with annoyance. “Weren’t you the one begging her to stay with me? Why the attitude now?”
“I don’t have an attitude,” Lydia replied.
“Julian, this is your home with her. It’s normal that she doesn’t welcome me. Let me go,” Vera continued with her act of being the victim.
“Apologize to Vera,” Julian demanded, his expression hardening.
“I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I apologize?” Lydia refused.
“Whether you did something wrong or not, you’ve upset Vera, so you need to apologize,” Julian said, showing blatant favoritism.
Lydia was stunned for a moment, her fingers curling slightly as she met his increasingly cold gaze, her heart twinging.
Once at a social gathering, Lydia had been deliberately knocked down by a nouveau riche wife who then demanded an apology. When Lydia argued with the woman, her husband stepped in to defend his wife and nearly became physical with Lydia.
Eventually, it was security personnel who appeared and escorted the couple out, but throughout the entire incident, Julian had stood by, a mere observer, offering no defense despite knowing Lydia had been wronged.
Lydia had always assumed it was Julian’s detached personality that prevented him from publicly defending her.
Now she realized it wasn’t detachment-he simply only stood up for Vera.
How had she ever been blind enough to believe Julian loved her?
Lydia remained silent for a long time.
Julian’s expression darkened further as his patience waned. “Don’t want the Reed shares anymore?” he threatened.
Lydia snapped back to reality, taking a deep breath to suppress the bitterness in her heart before speaking submissively, “Vera, I’m not unwelcoming at all. Please don’t be angry-come in.”
“I’ll forgive you this time, but if it happens again, I’m leaving immediately,” Vera said, a flicker of triumph in her eyes despite her pouting dissatisfaction.
Vera and Julian sat on the sofa, opening shopping bags to examine their purchases. Vera glanced at Lydia and said, “I’m hungry. I want to eat something made by Miss Reed.”
“Let the servants cook. She doesn’t know how,” Julian reflexively replied.
“No! I want HER to cook for me!” Vera began throwing another tantrum, tossing aside a newly purchased dress.
Julian’s patience with her seemed endless. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and coaxed her gently. “Alright, she’ll cook. What would you like to eat?”
“Seafood,” Vera demanded.
Julian looked at Lydia, his tone commanding. “Prepare seafood. If you don’t know how, have the servants teach you.”
Lydia said nothing, simply turning and heading to the kitchen.
Julian and Vera chatted and laughed in the living room, apparently discussing wedding dresses and ceremony details.
Lydia prepared twelve different seafood dishes. When everything was arranged, she asked a servant to call Julian and Vera.
She took her usual seat and ladled herself a bowl of soup.
Suddenly, Lydia’s hand jerked in pain. The bowl fell, hot soup spilling over her hand, instantly scalding it red.
“Vera, are you okay? Are you burned?” Julian’s urgent voice came from beside her as he pulled Vera into his arms.
“I’m fine. I didn’t mean to bump into Miss Reed,” Vera feigned alarm, though her eyes couldn’t hide her satisfaction.
Lydia glanced at her blistering hand, then at Julian who had immediately rushed to Vera’s side in concern. She pulled her lips into a bitter smile.
The difference between love and indifference couldn’t be more obvious.
Thankfully, she no longer loved him either.
Lydia silently rose to treat her wound.
When she returned to the dining room, the table was a mess, nothing left for her.
She drank a glass of warm milk and went back to her room.
