Chapter 6

Simon was surprised that Janice had the guts to take that tone with him. He pulled her to the living room on the second floor. "Let me go!" Janice shook his hand off. The tears in her eyes dripped onto her shirt. "What kind of attitude are you taking with me?" Simon's misogyny took over him. "Don't you know that I've been helping you throughout today?" He grabbed her wrist and ignored her struggles. Whether his grip hurt her or not was also not part of his concerns. Janice suddenly fell silent. After a moment, she asked hoarsely, "Were you helping me?" What had he done for her? Was it when he made a mess so she had to come home to endless chores? Or was it when Simon said he wanted home-cooked food and forced her to cook and bring him food? "Haven't I paid for half of your house? If I hadn't given the go-ahead, would you hold 25% of Refined Threads Co.'s shares? Countless investors are looking to invest here, but I turned them all down. Janice, how could you be so ungrateful?" He was shameless. Janice's wrist throbbed. "Simon, let me go." "What can you do if I don't?" Simon's eyes were rimmed red as he continued, "Janice, you better be careful with that attitude of yours around me. I don't care how you treat Mom or Sarah, but you have to remember where you stand with me. "Throw out all that rubbish of yours. Keep your emotions in line. Don't let them affect your work." He flung Janice's hand away like she was a rag doll. Rubbish… Janice was enraged by his high-and-mighty attitude. She spat, "This 'rubbish' kept Refined Textiles Co. running. Simon, how dare you look down on them?" Simon paused. "What did you say?" Janice realized what she had said. She pursed her lips and remained silent. Simon mocked, "Janice, you've dreamed so much your brain has rotted. Your crochet designs are not bad, I'll admit that. "However, you've got too much confidence in yourself. Were you given some kind of top ten seamstresses in the world award? "If you have that much time to daydream, you should use it to practice your crocheting skills. You're making such beginner's mistakes. In which universe do you think you'll ever get your breakthrough?" The familiar demeaning words spewed from his mouth. Janice looked up at him and asked, "If I make a name for myself in the future, will you apologize for taking sides?" In Simon's dictionary, the word 'apology' was probably on the last page. Even if he did apologize, it was always perfunctory and disingenuous. He never believed himself to be wrong. Simon would never own up to it, even if he did make a mistake. Simon lifted Janice's chin. He said slowly, "You'll never make a name for yourself. All the talented seamstresses have already won awards for their work by the time they reach your age." He was avoiding her question while sneaking in an insult. Janice felt like her heart had shattered into a million pieces. "Why do you never encourage me? All you do is insult and put me down. If you think I'm so horrible, why don't you break up with me?" "Why are you so childish? Praise will only inflate your ego. I'm encouraging you by putting you down." Janice had no desire to respond to that. She closed her eyes and grasped at the torn crochet design in her hands. Then, she turned and went downstairs. Amelia had been observing them. She asked, "Simon, has Janice gone out?" She saw Janice walking away with her crochet works. Simon looked unhappy. "Don't give her the time of day. She'll be back. Go and rest." Amelia no longer dared to test how much Simon liked her. She needed to be obedient. At Refined Threads Co., Janice went into her office, where she did her crocheting. Then, she calmed herself and began putting her work back together. Tears rolled down her face against her will. Her effort went unappreciated and was thrown around like rubbish. The hurt was magnified as she cut her threads. To prevent her tears from splashing onto her crocheting, Janice leaned back. Her tears splattered onto the floor instead, audible in the stifling silence of the night. Sarah and Amelia's behavior hadn't caused her too much grief. What hurt her the most was Simon's inability to understand and appreciate her. For the past years, he treated everyone courteously. No one could find fault with him. However, with her, he never had anything nice to say. Janice remembered when she took one of her better pieces of crocheting to a competition to make a name for Refined Threads Co. Her work won first in the Winter Tournament. She'd thought Simon would be ecstatic. Yet, at the end of the competition, he said, "Don't be too proud. This is just a rare occasion where you exceeded your usual standards. I know how you perform on average. More effort needs to be put in." Simon treated her as though he was her boss, as if he hadn't realized she was his girlfriend. Janice had never cared about material riches. Their relationship was what mattered to her. Janice's shattered heart rendered her weak. She threw her crochet hooks aside and leaned on the glass window of her office. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Janice eventually drifted off to sleep. It had been an exhausting day. At 3:00 am, Janice was roused from her slumber by her phone ringing. It was Simon. He had called Janice about thirty times. She sat up and washed her face. Then, she turned on the lights to continue putting her work back together. Their collaboration with Prosper Stitch Group could not be delayed. Janice didn't have enough time to do a new piece of work. She could only do her best to repair her work. As for Simon's calls, she ignored them entirely. From that day onward, Janice remained in the branch office while Simon stayed in the main office. They were in opposite directions. They wouldn't run into each other if they didn't make the effort to see each other. When dawn broke, Janice massaged her sore shoulders. "Ms. Smith?" Janice's secretary, Sunny, had come to tidy up the office and await Janice's arrival. Seeing Janice there came as a surprise. Janice got up and said, "Make a cup of coffee for me, please." "Alright." The coffee helped Janice sober up just enough to start the day. In between meetings, she worked on repairing her work. She hadn't contacted Simon for the past four days. "You're not picking up my calls, are you, Janice? You think you're all that, yeah? If you continue ignoring my calls, forget about calling me ever again in the future." Janice read through Simon's unapologetic messages and found no desire to offer him a response. "Ms. Smith, the results of the competition we entered are out!" Sunny came in happily and announced, "An international crochet exhibition has taken a fancy to our designs!" There were many types of crocheting designs, including artisan works, broomstick crochets, and freeform crochet. Refined Threads Co. hadn't joined any international competitions. Janice had always wanted to bring the company onto the international stage to make billions in profits. Thus, publicity was of utmost importance. If their work could be put in an international exhibition, it would be an excellent long-term advertisement! Joy radiated off Janice as she picked up the phone. She thought it was still better to inform Simon about this. However, when she called Simon, no one picked up. Janice asked Sunny, "Do you know where Mr. Fitzgerald is?" "I called Alex, and he said that Mr. Fitzgerald had gone to the hospital. Today is the annual checkup for the employees in the main office." Annual checkup? Janice thought for a moment. Then, she took her car keys and headed to the hospital. … At the hospital, Janice saw one of the employees from the main office and asked, "Where's Mr. Fitzgerald?" "He's in the second-floor lounge." Janice took the elevator to the second floor. When she thought of how Refined Threads Co. had entered an international competition, she grinned. She arrived at the lounge and pushed the door open. "Simon, one of the crochet designs for Refined Threads is going to be in an international exhibition—" A sudden slap across her face interrupted her joy. Helena glared at her, "You're the harbinger of doom. How dare you show up here? What, are you overjoyed to know that Simon was in an accident?" An accident? She turned to Simon, who was sitting by the bed. Amelia had a cotton bud in hand and was helping him clean the wound in his arm. "Janice, you bring bad luck to our family! If Simon hadn't wanted to see you at the branch office, how would he have gotten hurt?" Sarah scolded. "Janice, I'm not trying to criticize you," Amelia said. She threw her cotton bud away before continuing, "What would drive you to hold a grudge against Simon? Don't you love him? "If you loved him this much, why aren't you more understanding of him? You've thrown a tantrum for nothing." Was it all Janice's fault? They even tried to blame this on her.