"Tomorrow’s seminar is critical for the institute’s future funding. As the core member, you’re expected to attend," I said coolly, buttoning my blouse as I turned to leave.
Arthur snorted. "I told you—I don’t waste time on those shallow business exchanges. I’m not going."
I didn’t even glance back. "Loren’s company will be there too."
A pause. Then his voice, low but decisive: "Fine. I’ll go."
My heart clenched.
Right on cue. Mention Loren, and he would toss aside every principle.
It’s fine. Very soon, he won’t have to pretend anymore. I’ll leave, and the stage will be all hers.
—
The next morning, I sat leisurely at the table, sipping hand-brewed black coffee and slowly enjoying a sandwich. For once, the house was quiet. Peaceful.
Arthur came storming down the stairs, irritation written all over his face. He had a wrinkled shirt in one hand and a suit in the other.
"What am I supposed to wear today? Why didn’t you iron anything or help coordinate like you usually do?"
I didn’t even look up. "You’ve always said you hate me touching your things."
"You—" He stopped short, visibly frustrated, but before he could respond, a sleepy voice chimed in.