Chapter 5

A week after the divorce, Carter sent someone to collect the keys to the house.

I put the keys in an envelope, along with my wedding ring.

It was our matching set. I had no idea where his was anymore.

I had worn mine for seven years. When I pulled it off, it left a pale, faint indent on my ring finger.

Right after the courier left, Samantha called.

Her voice was sweet and dripping with triumph.

"Daisy, I got the package. But didn't you leave something behind?"

"What?" I asked.

"The wooden box in Carter's study." She giggled. "The one filled with your old, trashy photos. It's giving me bad vibes."

"If you still want it, come get it yourself."

My parents' old photographs were in that wooden box.

When I rushed to the house, Samantha was lounging on the living room sofa.

She was wearing my silk nightgown, and the wooden box sat by her feet.

The photos inside had been messily rummaged through.

A photo of my parents had fallen to the floor, the corner of it trapped under her slipper.

My expression went cold. "Move your foot."

Samantha looked up, her smile innocent. "Oh, sorry. Didn't see it."

She slowly dragged her foot away, leaving a sharp crease on the photo.

I bent down to pick it up.

Suddenly, she kicked the wooden box away with her toe. Photos and letters scattered all over the floor.

"Daisy, I actually kind of admire you," she said, leaning in.

"Kicked out of the house, and you're still this calm."

"Is it because that college kid is treating you so well?"

My hands paused as I gathered the photos.

Samantha laughed harder.

"But you really are pitiful. Did you know Carter created that alt account just to mess with you?"

"When you were texting him 'goodnight' every day, do you have any idea how much we laughed at you?"

I didn't look up. "Are you done laughing?"

My calmness clearly irritated her. Her smile faltered.

"What are you pretending for? Do you think you're losing with dignity?"

"You're just an unwanted, abandoned wife."

I placed the last photo back into the box and finally looked up at her.

"Samantha, are you trying this hard to prove you won because Carter still hasn't married you?"

Her face paled.

Just then, footsteps sounded at the door.

Carter walked in and frowned the moment he saw me. "What are you doing here?"

Samantha's eyes instantly welled with tears. She rushed over and clung to his arm.

"Carter, I just wanted to give her things back, but I think Daisy misunderstood me."

Carter looked at the mess on the floor, then at the wooden box in my hands. His tone was freezing.

"Daisy, do you have to make such a scene?"

Suddenly, I felt incredibly exhausted.

In the past, I would have explained myself a thousand times over.

But Carter never believed me.

I clutched the wooden box to my chest and started walking toward the door.

Carter blocked my path. "Apologize."

I blinked. "What?"

He looked at me with pure annoyance. "Apologize to Samantha."

Samantha lowered her head, though the corners of her lips twitched upward.

I stared at Carter for what felt like an eternity.

So long that my chest grew heavy and a loud ringing filled my ears.

Then, I laughed.

"Carter, do you remember?"

"Years ago, you wouldn't even let anyone touch a hair on my head."

His eyes flickered slightly.

I continued, "And now, you're demanding I apologize to the person who just stepped on my dead parents' photo."

He looked down at the creased photo on the floor, his face shifting.

Samantha rushed to explain, "I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine," I interrupted her. "My parents have been dead for years anyway. They can't see it."

Carter's throat bobbed. "Daisy..."

I ignored him.

Just as I reached the foyer, a sudden, agonizing pain gripped my heart.

The wooden box slipped from my hands, crashing to the floor as the photos scattered once again.

I leaned heavily against the wall, my vision turning pitch black.

Carter rushed forward to catch me. "Daisy!"

With the last of my strength, I shoved him away. "Don't touch me."

His hands froze in mid-air.

I fumbled through my purse, pulled out my pills, and swallowed them dry.

Samantha stood behind him, whispering, "Is she just faking it?"

This time, Carter didn't immediately side with her.

He stared at the prescription bottle in my hand, his face turning pale.

I didn't look back as I walked out.

In the back of the cab, I opened my Snapchat chat with Zev.

He had just sent a message:

[My chest hurt so bad just now. Are you hurting too?]

I stared at it for a long time, then smiled.

I sent him a screenshot.

It was the photo of the river nightscape he had sent me last week.

In the reflection of the glass, half of Carter's face was clearly visible, along with the watch I had bought him.

And Samantha's hand, resting heavily on his shoulder.

The "typing..." indicator on the other end stopped.

I slowly typed:

[Carter, your acting is terrible. I've known Zev was you since day one.]