Chapter 159
To show off like this, he personally arranged the holiday outfits. Hers was this coat–an outrageously expensive coat.
She never thought she could sell it on eBay, even though she listed it at a ridiculously low price.
The other party bargained: 400.
Lucille: OK!
The other party: ?
?
?
?
Is it really this cheap?
Could it be fake?
Lucille: Guaranteed real, with invoice and all proof of its identity!
The other party: I remember this style has a men’s version, it’s a couple set. Do you have it?
Lucille: Must have it!
At the time, Cedrick bought both men’s and women’s versions!
The other party: Two pieces for 600, I’ll take them together!
Lucille: Deal.
Without hesitation.
This quickness made the other party send a string of question marks again: “Sis, you’re so quick it makes me suspi- cious!”
Is it real?
Why so quick?
Lucille: It’s real. As for why so quick… hey, to me it’s just trash. Isn’t throwing away trash quick?
Lucille quickly added, fearing misunderstanding: “When I say ‘trash‘, I don’t mean there’s anything wrong with this outfit. It’s just useless clutter to me.”
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Chapter 159
The buyer replied: “Send me a video.”
Lucille: “Okay, just a moment.”
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Her own outfit was easy to find–she’d just put it away. After sending the video, she started searching for Cedrick’s.
It took some effort, but she finally located it.
While filming, a chilling voice sounded behind her: “What are you digging for in my closet?”
Lucille jumped, nearly dropping her phone.
Turning, she saw Cedrick glowering, hair dripping wet, bathrobe clinging to him.
“Why are you taking my clothes?”
Water droplets clung to his forehead, making his dark eyes appear unnervingly clear.
“Oh, someone wants to buy both outfits. I’m showing them,” she stated calmly.
“Both?” Cedrick’s voice sharpened. “Lucille, you can sell your own clothes. Who gave you rights to mine?”
She smiled lightly. “They’re a set, aren’t they? The buyer wants the complete pair. Without yours, mine won’t sell.”
“Lucille!” Genuine anger flashed across his face–a frequent occurrence lately.
“What’s the big deal? You never wear them anyway. Passing them to someone who’ll use them is recycling!” she countered. “Fine, I’ll split the money with you.”
Cedrick snorted twice, “Ha. Ha.” He yanked her aside, pulled fresh clothes from the closet, expression stormy. “Har- lan and Maricela are having a gathering today. I came back specifically for you–turned them down repeatedly. And this is how you…”
He cut himself off, turning to change elsewhere.
From the walk–in closet, Lucille heard his phone call: “Maricela? Where are you guys? Yeah, I’m heading over. Need me to bring anything? Dessert? What kind? Tea Custard? What’s that? Where? Got it.”
Cedrick left without a backward glance.
Lucille resumed chatting with the buyer. Ha. Typing clumsily with bandaged fingers, even disposing of “trash” was exhausting!
The buyer was local–shipping address was a hotel front desk.
Lucille: All right, shipping tomorrow. Don’t worry.
She packed the outfits separately, scheduled next–day pickup, then video–called Grandma.
Seeing Grandma doing well eased her mind. Time to rest.
After showering, she lounged comfortably against the headboard watching a movie when text notifications flooded
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her phone.
An unknown number, but the venomous words felt familiar:
“Blocked us all–even Cedrick–because you can’t handle the truth?”
“If it hurts so much, why not divorce him? Stop clinging like some pathetic leech.”
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“You’re just a lame woman. What do you offer Cedrick besides embarrassment and trouble? Can you even fuck him? Bear his children? Can’t manage the basics–what good are you?”
Lucille stared at the relentless stream of messages. Her numb and rigid heart gave a painful twitch at the line: “Can I sleep with him?”
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