Chapter 2

The very next day, right after Austin finished his lecture on "family healing," his own toxic family called.

It was his mother, Beatrice.

The moment the call connected, her loud, screeching voice blasted through the receiver. No speakerphone needed.

"Austin! Your useless father is losing his mind again! He actually wants to lend our old townhouse to his distant nephew for a wedding! That house is supposed to go to Lily!

What right does he have to make that decision?!"

Austin quickly pulled the phone away, a look of pure annoyance crossing his face.

"Mom, quiet down. I’m busy at work."

"Busy? You’re always busy! Have you ever cared about this family? Your father is practically giving away our property, and you’re still 'busy'! Get your butt over here right now!"

Beatrice sobbed and screamed over the phone, listing all of Arthur's faults.

Having been married to Austin for three years, I was used to this.

His parents had hated each other since they were young. They had fought for decades, and as they aged, it only got worse. They would scream over the smallest things, constantly threatening divorce.

Austin brushed her off. "Alright, Mom, I get it. You two fight about the same thing every week. He’s probably just talking big. He won't actually do it. Just ignore him."

"Ignore him?! If I ignore him, he’ll ruin this family! Lily knows about this too and is rushing over. As her older brother, you need to come back and set things straight!"

With that, Beatrice slammed the phone down.

Austin rubbed his temples in frustration and tossed his phone onto the couch.

I walked over with a plate of sliced fruit and asked casually, "Are your parents fighting again? Sounds serious. Should we go check on them?"

Austin waved his hand, stuffing a slice of apple into his mouth. "No need. They’ve been fighting like this their whole lives. If I get involved, I’ll just get caught in the crossfire."

I watched him quietly, then gently repeated the exact words he had used on me the day before.

"But Austin, we can’t choose the family we're born into. Running away doesn't solve anything. You should try to help them heal."

Austin froze mid-chew. He looked up at me, clearly not expecting me to throw his own words back at him.

He twitched his lips. "This is different. My family's situation is... complicated."

"Oh? How is it different?" I smiled, continuing to play the part of the sweet, supportive wife. "Didn't you say we should use love to dissolve conflict? As their son, you should take the initiative to communicate and help them rebuild a harmonious relationship."

My tone mimicked his perfectly—soft, patient, and glowing with self-righteous wisdom.

Austin’s face grew tense.

"You just don't get it. My parents have decades of deep resentment. It’s not like Tyler’s situation."

He stood up, clearly trying to escape the conversation. "I have some paperwork to finish. I’ll be in the study."

Watching his retreating back, the smile on my face turned ice-cold.

See? His "reconciliation," his "generosity," and his "blood is thicker than water" were entirely selective.

As long as the fire wasn't burning his own house down, he was more than happy to play the noble saint.