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After reading for a while, Tracy’s stomach started aching again. She picked up her cup and headed downstairs for some water.
At the staircase, she ran into Chandler putting on his jacket. He said to her, “I’ve got something urgent at the company. I’m heading out.”
Seeing her clutching her stomach in pain, he casually asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
Tracy forced a smile. “Nothing. Just the old stomach trouble acting up again.”
Chandler’s brow furrowed, almost imperceptibly. Then he said coldly, “I don’t have time to play along with your act. I have urgent business.”
Every time he wanted to go out, Tracy would suddenly claim her stomach hurt, as if to hold him back. He’d seen that trick too many times to ever believe it again.
Tracy froze. What did he mean? He thought she was pretending?
A bitter laugh slipped out. Her stomach throbbed with pain, but her heart hurt even more.
She should never have said anything to him at all. Even when she was on the verge of collapsing, he thought she was faking it.
This was the man she had loved all these years.
She wanted so badly to ask him: if she really had cancer, if she were really about to die, would he feel even a shred of pity for her?
She already knew the answer. Judging from the way he treated her now, if she dropped dead in front of him, he would probably think she was putting on a show-then step over her body on his way out to meet Yvonne.
Tracy shook her head hard, trying to scatter those thoughts. It didn’t matter. Their divorce was already in the cooling-off stage.
All she had to do was get through this month, and she would finally be free. Everything was moving in the right direction.
After Chandler left, she swallowed a pill and chased it with a large glass of warm water. The pain finally eased.
Back in her room, she shut her computer and lay down to sleep.
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17:03 Thu, Feb 19
Chapter 7 That Sickeningly Fake Act
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The next morning, Saturday, she was woken early by the shrill ring of the phone. Glancing at the caller ID, she saw it was her grandmother.
“Tracy, are you coming home today?” her grandmother’s aged voice asked gently.
Still groggy, Tracy blinked. Right. She remembered now. On her days off, she usually went home twice a month.
Her visits were never on a fixed schedule, so her grandmother called on every rest day to ask if she would come.
But aside from her grandmother, no one else in the Xander family wanted her back- something she’d always known.
She yawned. “Grandma, I happen to be free today. I’ll come by later.”
Her grandmother’s voice brightened immediately. “Good! I’ll have Linda make your favorite dishes.”
After hanging up, Tracy checked the time. Only 7:10 a.m. Still so early.
She ruffled her messy hair, flopped back onto the bed for a while, then finally got up.
When she came downstairs after washing up, Jennie had already prepared breakfast. “Good morning, Ms. Tracy. Breakfast is ready,” she said with a smile.
“Morning,” Tracy answered quietly.
The single setting at the table told her everything: Chandler hadn’t come home last night.
Jennie set a glass of warm milk in front of her and added, as if to explain, “Mr. Chandler came home very late last night and slept in the guest room. He left again very early this morning— said there were still a lot of files waiting for him at the company. He didn’t even have time for breakfast.”
Tracy only murmured, “Mm.”
She knew Jennie was just covering for Chandler, trying to avoid another fight. But the problems between her and Chandler had snowballed too far to ever be resolved.
After breakfast, Tracy told Jennie she was going out, grabbed her keys, and drove to the Xander estate.
When she arrived, her grandmother wasn’t there, nor was anyone else from the family.
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17:03 Thu, Feb 19
Chapter 7 That Sickeningly Fake Act
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Linda greeted her warmly, helped her carry her things, handed her a pair of new slippers, then poured her a glass of water. “Ms. Tracy, you’re back! Your grandmother and the others went shopping. Have some water first.”
“Thank you,” Tracy said, taking a sip.
Just then, a soft, delicate voice floated down from upstairs. “Is that Tracy back?”
A slender figure descended the staircase-Yvonne, dressed in a pure white dress, looking pristine and innocent.
The moment she saw Tracy, Yvonne beamed and skipped forward, twirling in front of her like a little fairy. “Doesn’t this dress look pretty?”
Tracy’s lips curved faintly. “It looks nice.”
Truthfully, she almost admired her stepsister. Already having stolen her husband, Yvonne still managed to act as though nothing had happened-like she wasn’t the one sneaking around with Chandler.
That sickeningly fake act made Tracy’s stomach churn.
Yvonne turned to Linda with a sweet smile. “Bring some fruit, will you? It’s so hot out, Tracy must be thirsty.”
“Of course,” Linda said, hurrying off to the kitchen.
Then Yvonne pointed at a pair of scissors on the coffee table. “If you think the dress looks good, I won’t return it. Tracy, help me cut off the tag.”
The scissors were heavy and sharp, the kind tailors used.
Tracy bent to pick them up, glanced at the dress, and asked casually, “Where’s the tag?”
“Near the collar. You’ll find it.”
As Tracy lowered her gaze, her eyes caught on the pale curve of Yvonne’s neck. Scattered across the skin were deep red kiss marks-and around it hung a necklace.
Tracy’s chest tightened. So that was where Chandler had been last night.
And that necklace…
It was the one she had loved most, a custom piece a designer had worked on with her for half a month. A symbol of true love.
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17:03 Thu, Feb 19
Chapter 7 That Sickeningly Fake Act
It should have been hers. Instead, it gleamed now on Yvonne’s throat.
If Yvonne claimed it wasn’t deliberate, not even she would believe herself.
Tracy’s lips curved into a thin smile.
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The scissors in her hand itched-not just to cut the tag, but to cut straight through Yvonne’s fragile neck.
4/4
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
