Chapter 22
Aydan hung his head like a guilty child. “I’m sorry. I didn’t ask for your permission before bringing up your past today, exposing your privacy. I know it’s very offensive.”
He’d just been so angry, so eager to stand up for Lucille, that he’d acted on impulse.
Lucille shook her head. There was nothing offensive about Aydan’s actions. By contrast. those who had offended her never viewed their own conduct as offensive at all…
“It’s nothing. This was bound to come out sooner or later.” She’d separate from Cedrick sooner or later. If Cedrick hadn’t kept refusing, they would’ve been divorced already
Aydan’s eyes lit up again. He said earnestly, “Lucille, Birdie, I know you’ll spread your wings and fly high, even if those wings were broken once!”
Back in college, everyone had called Lucille Birdie because her somersaults and leaps had always been so high and light, as if she could truly fly like a bird.
Tonight, every mention of Birdie had made her blood race, like she was back in the training room years ago, with sweat soaking her leotard, her body singing with the joy of dance.
“Lucille…” Aydan had already turned to leave, but he turned back suddenly. “Having an injured foot isn’t shameful. The scars on your leg aren’t shameful. Shame only on the ones who laugh at you! The good ones only cheer for you. Bye, Lucille!”
After saying that, he turned and ran, his arms waving in the moonlight, as if he were dancing for the words: “The good ones only cheer for you.”
Lucille stood there, watching him go, her heart still racing.
This was the first time anyone had told her that her disability wasn’t something to be ashamed of and that the shame belonged to those who mocked her…
She’d never told anyone about the pain of being laughed at, not even her closest grandma She’d been too scared of making grandma sad…
But how did Aydan know?
“He already left, but you’re still not willing to go home?” A voice cut through the darkness.
09.27
Chapter 22
11
She turned around. Cedrick stepped out of the shadows
“No wonder you keep asking for a divorce,” he said. Under the streetlamp, he’d lost the polished poise he’d had at the party, but looked haggard, tired.
“You’re misunderstanding,” she said. She’d only just reconnected with Aydan, after all
“Were the flowers at home from him?” Cedrick didn’t seem to hear her explanation.
“Yeah.” Lucille said, not in the mood to explain further.
Cedrick stepped closer, so close that she could see the wrinkles around his eyes.
He wasn’t even thirty yet, but time had already left its mark on his face.
“Lucille.” He held her shoulders. His cologne hung faintly in the air. “Haven’t I been good to you?”
His frown and the shadows under his eyes told her how exhausted he was.
She let out a quiet sigh.
“Good?” she thought.
Sure. He’d given her everything: food, clothes, a home, and money. He’d been generous with her grandmother and her family, never holding back.
But she would’ve rather he paid her off back then for her injured leg…
“If I never did you wrong,” he said, eyes reddening, “how could you team up with someone else against me? What’s mine is yours, isn’t it? My career is yours. My money is yours. We’re married. We’re supposed to be one.
“Now he remembers we’re one? Wasn’t he always siding with his brother? Or with Maricela? Wasn’t I always the outsider?” she sneered in her heart.
“Cedrick.” She drew a slow breath. “So now you remember we’re married?”
His gaze wavered. He looked even more weary. “You’re still stuck on that thing with Mari. She was trying to help. She knew Mr. Wyatt preferred to work with people whose families were stable. That’s why she didn’t correct anyone that afternoon. But what does it change? I’m still your husband. Legally, in every system, I still am.”
“It wasn’t necessary,” Lucille said quietly.
09:27
Chapter 22
“What?” He frowned.
“The help. The pretense. We should just…”
“Enough!” Cedrick cut her off sharply, knowing her thought. “You think he’ll marry you if you divorce me? Don’t be naive.
He released her and walked away without looking back.
A breeze swept past, carrying his scent with it, the same perfume Maricela had worn that evening.
Lucille disliked that fragrance. It hung in the air, making it hard to breathe.
She turned and went back inside.
When she entered, she saw the flowers she’d brought home the night before, along with the vase, shattered across the floor.
Mylee wasn’t home.
He was indeed furious.
He was a workaholic. She had to give him that. It was how he’d built such a successful company before turning thirty.
He cared deeply about the deal with Jaiden. Of course, he was angry that it fell through. “Was it my fault? Did I pretend to be anyone’s wife?” she thought.
She knelt to gather the broken pieces when the door opened. “Let me handle that, Mrs. Maynard,” Mylee said, rushing over, afraid Lucille would get hurt.
“I just stepped out to pick up the dry cleaning.” Some clothes were kept in a professional care shop for care.
She paused, then added carefully, “I saw Mr. Maynard earlier.”