Chapter 5

By the time the second batch of beef was served, it was so sweet it was nauseating.

Clara smiled and showed everyone her phone.

"Look, guys! This is the car Carter got me. Isn't it gorgeous?"

She swiped through her camera roll.

Photos of the car, designer bags, diamond necklaces, expensive dinners, and a shot of Carter’s back as he swiped his black card at a jewelry counter.

Someone let out a low whistle. "Damn, Carter. Generous much?"

Carter leaned back in his chair, his tone casual. "She just got back to the country. She needed a lot of essentials."

Zach instinctively looked at me. "Man, then Carter must treat you like a queen, Chloe."

Clara blinked innocently, acting like she didn't get the hint.

"Oh, what did Carter get you for your birthday, Chloe?"

Before I could say anything, Carter answered for me.

"Chloe doesn't like wasting money on useless things."

He said it so naturally.

As if I was born to not deserve nice things.

For my birthday last year, he gave me a free one-day gym pass.

It was a voucher he had won at his company’s holiday raffle.

At the time, I had hugged him, thanked him sincerely, and felt happy for days.

Clara covered her mouth with a soft gasp.

"Wow, Chloe, you're so thrifty! Unlike me, I'm always spending Carter's money."

Carter gave her a playful look. "As long as you know. Stop buying useless junk from now on."

His tone sounded like a lecture, but his eyes were filled with warmth.

I got up to clear the dishes. Clara suddenly followed me into the kitchen.

"Chloe, do you absolutely hate me?"

I turned on the faucet. "You're overthinking."

"But Carter used to care about me the most," she smiled, her sweet demeanor vanishing instantly under the rush of the water.

"I was only gone for a few years. Did you honestly think he belonged to you?"

The sound of running water drowned out the laughter from the living room.

"You know that white silk dress? I wore it on purpose," Clara whispered. "And your perfume? I took it on purpose, too."

"I just wanted to see how much you actually matter to him."

I turned off the tap. "And what did you find out?"

She gave a light, mocking laugh. "Honestly? Not much."

In the next second, she grabbed a bowl of hot soup sitting on the counter and poured a splash of it directly onto the back of her own hand.

The bowl shattered on the floor, and she let out a piercing scream.

By the time Carter rushed into the kitchen, Clara was already shaking and sobbing violently.

"Chloe... I just wanted to help wash the dishes... why did you push me?"

Without a single moment of hesitation, Carter violently shoved me away from the kitchen door.

"Chloe! Are you out of your mind?!"

I looked at him. "I didn't push her."

Clara clung to his chest, the back of her hand turning bright red.

"Carter, it's okay... maybe Chloe didn't mean to do it."

"Shut up," Carter said coldly.

I thought he was talking to Clara.

But in the next second, his cold gaze locked onto me.

"Apologize."

Another apology.

I suddenly realized how familiar those words were.

For three years, I had been constantly apologizing.

Apologizing for buying shoes that were "too expensive."

Apologizing for getting sick and "distracting him from his work."

Apologizing for not being "cool" enough, "understanding" enough, or "independent" enough.

And now, I was expected to apologize for a bowl of soup she had poured on herself.

This time, I wasn't backing down.

"I won't apologize."

Carter’s face went completely dark. The guests in the living room had all stood up, feeling the tension.

Zach stepped in, trying to defuse the situation. "Hey, Carter, maybe we should check the camera first? Didn't you put a security cam in the kitchen?"

We had a camera in the kitchen because Carter was always paranoid I’d forget to turn off the stove.

I looked at Carter. "Yes, check the footage."

Clara’s sobbing paused for a split second.

Carter knew the camera was there, but he didn't reach for his phone.

Instead, he avoided my eyes and said in a harsh, rigid voice, "Enough."

"We have guests over. Do you really have to make a scene and embarrass everyone?"

Zach frowned. "Carter, checking the app takes two seconds. It’ll clear things up."

Carter dismissed him coldly. "Clara’s hand is already burned. Does it really matter who’s right or wrong at this point?"

I stared at him.

So, whether the truth mattered or not depended entirely on *who* was hurt.

Clara sobbed, "I don't want to make things difficult for Chloe. We don't need to watch it."

Carter wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

At the door, he stopped and threw a cold look back at me.

"Chloe, if Clara ends up with a scar on her hand, we are not done."

The door slammed shut.

The apartment was left in a messy silence, under the awkward gazes of his friends.

Zach wanted to say something, but in the end, he just let out a heavy sigh.

"Chloe... don't take it to heart. Carter is just... really protective of Clara."

I bent down and picked up the shattered ceramic pieces from the floor.

This time, the glass didn't cut me.

Because I was wearing gloves.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was an email from the LA office.

*“Hi Chloe, your transfer paperwork has been fast-tracked and approved. Your start date is tomorrow morning at 9:00 AM.”*

I replied instantly.

Then, in a corner where no one was looking, I quietly packed my suitcase.

Go spend the rest of your life with your 50/50 calculations, Carter.

I am done.