Chapter 3

I'd barely gotten home when Phineas sent me a WhatsApp message:

"Jesse, Ms. Quimby got me home safe, and she even gave me a bunch of gifts."

"Thanks for the 'food' tonight. I'm really so happy~"

The word "food" was in quotation marks, as if it meant a person.

Below it were photos of the gifts.

I ignored the message and its taunting tone.

My head was full of Sophie's words.

When Nadia came back and saw me still sitting on the sofa, she frowned at once:

"You're still up? Then why haven't you answered Phineas? He thinks you're angry, and it's left him uneasy this whole time."

"It was the same at the family dinner just now. Not only did you never crack a smile, you egged Sophie on to go after Phineas."

"Jesse, I know you're in a mood tonight. If you feel wronged, you can tell me, but you shouldn't take it out on an innocent guest. It's just so undignified."

Listening to her, all I felt was the irony of it.

Hadn't I said it? Had she listened?

Even when Sophie spoke up for me, she could take it as me putting Sophie up to it.

I raised my eyes, my voice calm:

"When you let him sit in my seat and wear the jade heirloom ring that belongs to the Quimby son-in-law, wasn't he plenty at ease then?"

Nadia paused, and for once a flicker of guilt crossed her face.

Then she flew into an indignant temper:

"Jesse Henson, are you questioning me now?"

"Phineas is my assistant. He has to come with me to all kinds of social functions. I'm afraid people will see how young he is and look down on him, so he needs a piece of jewelry with some weight to it, something to hold the room."

"You don't even have to work. Aside from cooking a little and keeping house, you live in comfort at home all day. There's no occasion where you'd ever need to wear it."

"Besides, you'll be run off your feet caring for me during my pregnancy. What if you knocked the ring and broke it? What's the harm in lending it to him for a few days?"

Oh. So that's how she sees me.

But I used to be a five-star hotel chef too, even if it doesn't sound all that grand.

At least it was work I loved.

It was Nadia who said the man of the Quimby house showing his face in public as a cook would be a laughingstock.

Her husband didn't need to go earn his own keep, either.

She begged me to be a stay-at-home husband, to hold down the home front for her.

I thought of how Sophie had defended and stood up for the man she loved, back in the car.

Set against that, I suddenly felt like a clown.

Realizing her tone had been too harsh, Nadia wearily pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Never mind. I won't fight with you. You get a stomachache whenever you're angry, and getting worked up isn't good for you."

She set a small jewelry box in front of me:

"You worked hard today. I picked this out especially for you."

"I still have work to do, so I'll sleep in the study tonight. Get some rest early. Tomorrow we go in for the embryo transfer."

I looked at the small, diamond-studded bow tie.

What a coincidence. I'd seen it not long ago, in the picture Phineas had gone out of his way to send to show off.

A few days back, so he'd have an outfit to match the ring, Nadia had spent millions on custom designer clothes and a watch for him.

This bow tie had been tossed into a corner of that pile of gifts, its tag reading "Brand Gift."

It couldn't have been easy for her, remembering to peel off the tag before handing it to me.

How very dignified.

As I passed the study, Nadia was on the phone.

The door wasn't quite shut, and her gentle voice drifted out:

"Phineas, don't read too much into it. He's not angry with you. I've already spoken to him. The man of the Quimby house should be kind and big-hearted."

"Why did I fall for him back then? The way he used to be was just like you, lively and headstrong. A little clumsy, sure, but serious and hardworking about his work, and even when he got chewed out he never gave up. He was a very interesting person to love."

"As for now... now he's obedient and dutiful, dignified and sensible. He makes a suitable husband. And a very dull one."

I stood outside the door and let out a faint laugh.

She was the one who'd used every rule there was to bind me into a numb, obedient household machine.

And then she blamed me for being dull.

Nadia's voice went on:

"Still unhappy? Then how can I make you happy? All right, I'll sing you to sleep."

Listening to that familiar singing, I felt something prick my heart like a needle.

Back when Nadia and I were dating, sometimes I couldn't sleep, and she would stay up the whole night on a voice call with me, coaxing me to sleep.

But ever since she became head of the Quimby family, it had never happened again.

Last week I couldn't sleep because of the side effects of those medications, and I wanted her to sing for me.

Instead she'd knit her brows in disapproval:

"Jesse, I'm the head of the Quimby family now. I have to be steady. I can't have people thinking me frivolous."

"If you can't sleep, count sheep."

I didn't listen any longer.

Back in the bedroom, I sent Sophie a message:

"I agree to the arrangement."

"Also, I remember you took law as an elective. Please draw up a divorce agreement for me. Thank you."

Suitable husband, or dignified and sensible man of the house, whichever.

From now on, whoever wants the role can have it.