Chapter 7
When Balfour came back, he carried a gift and Lynne’s favorite cake–the kind she’d loved for years.%
Trying to win her over, he opened the bakery box for her, only to discover that a chunk had already been scooped out.” Caught off guard, Balfour glanced at Lynne, embarrassment flickering across his face as he scrambled for an explanation.% “Cynthia skipped breakfast this morning and said she was starving, so I let her have a little piece. You don’t mind, do you?“% Lynne’s heart had long since gone numb–she couldn’t even feel the sting anymore.”
Balfour knew full well how particular she was about cleanliness, yet he still let Cynthia dig into the cake he’d bought for Lynne, as if it meant nothing
She let out a cold, derisive laugh, her eyes as icy and empty as a winter night. “And what if I do mind?”
Without another word, Lynne picked up the cake box and the gift and tossed them straight into the trash.
Half an hour ago, she’d already received a video message from Cynthia.
In the video, Cynthia smiled sweetly as she pulled out a pearl necklace–one Balfour had won for Lynne at an auction years ago–and asked him to “re–gift” it to Lynne as if it were nothing more than a meaningless trinket.
And Balfour actually listened. He brought the necklace home and handed it to Lynne, not as a gesture of love, but as an insult.# Seeing Lynne’s reactionless face, Balfour’s expression darkened. His voice turned cold.”
“Cynthia’s had a hard life. When I look at her, I see another version of myself. That’s all this is. I just want to help her. You’ve been sheltered your whole life–you could never understand what it’s like to be at someone else’s mercy.“}}
He slammed the bedroom door behind him.”
Lynne watched his retreating back, a soft, bitter laugh escaping her lips as sorrow welled in her eyes.M
So that’s all she was to him–a spoiled, pampered daughter of privilege.
He’d forgotten everything. He’d forgotten how this so–called “princess” had rolled up her sleeves to fight off the boys who bullied him, how she’d rewritten his apology letters again and again, how she’d stood up for him whenever his mother blamed him, and how–when faced with the ruthless Tobin family–she’d protected him without hesitation.
Balfour had always been the one to start their silent wars, and she’d always been the first to yield. But this time, she was done compromising.
Moments later, Cynthia’s text arrived.
So, Mrs. Tobin–do you like your gift?”
Lynne’s gaze fell on the bakery box in the trash, her eyes calm and unreadable.
Garbage always finds its way to the dump.
If Cynthia wanted the title of Mrs. Tobin so badly, Lynne was happy to let her have it
Her studio sold quickly, and to thank the agent who’d helped her get such a good price, Lynne took her out for a nice meal.}
As they were finishing up, the group in the next private room seemed to wrap up early. Laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. The crowd thinned until only a few close friends remained, their voices lowered as they discussed things they assumed no one else could hear.
“Balfour, have you really thought this through? If this was just a fling, fine, but you actually want to be with Cynthia? Last time you ditched your wife at her own birthday party for that woman–you should’ve seen her face. We’ve all watched you two grow up together. Does it really have to end like this?”
“And faking your own death? Isn’t that a little unfair to your wife?”
The voices drifted into Lynne’s ears–voices she knew all too well.
The men waited for Balfour to answer
So did Lynne &
After a long pause, she heard the rustle of a cigarette, then Balfour’s hoarse voice: “I’ll leave her the company, the house, the cars. She’ll never want for anything Isn’t that enough?”
One of the men scoffed. “Your wife’s never cared about money.”
Balfour was silent, as if in agreement, then let out a low, bitter laugh. “That’s just it–Cynthia needs me more.”
Lynne’s knuckles whitened as she gripped her glass, a dull ringing in her ears. She didn’t even notice when the group left.
She sat in her chair, silent, while her agent fumed across from her.
“This world is crawling with snakes these days!”
‘Faking your death to run off with your mistress? That’s just evil.“”
Lynne composed herself, took a slow sip of tea, and smiled faintly. “Isn’t it, though?“}
When Lynne got home, her mother called.
“All the paperwork’s done. What time’s your flight?“}
She glanced at her phone. “Three days from now.“>
“Good. I’ll have someone pick you up at the airport.”
As soon as she hung up, a chilly voice sounded behind her.
“What’s happening in three days?“}
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