Chapter 3

Jenson's gaze lingered on the cleared dresser for a long time. Estella swallowed the refusal on the tip of her tongue. She just wanted to leave quietly, without unnecessary complications. So, she said evenly, "Get some rest. We have the photoshoot tomorrow, don't we?" Seeing nothing unusual in her expression, Jenson didn't think much of it. That night, they lay back-to-back, each lost in their own thoughts. The next morning, as they were leaving, Estella struggled to drag a heavy trash bag downstairs. Jenson took it from her without hesitation and asked, "Why is it so heavy? What's in here?" As he spoke, he reached out to tug the bag open to check what was inside. Instinctively, Estella pressed his arm down. "Just a bunch of useless stuff." Right then, the elevator arrived on their floor. The moment passed, and Jenson lost interest. He tossed the bag into the dumpster without a second thought. Watching it disappear, Estella felt a weight lift off her shoulders. … At the studio, the staff led them to pick outfits for the shoot. Rows of wedding gowns lined the racks. Just as Estella was about to ask if there were other options, Jenson suddenly stopped in front of one. "Try this one, Estie. Didn't you say you liked this style?" Estella blinked at the gown—a regal, vintage-style wedding dress. Half a month ago, she'd sent Jenson a picture of a similar design. If this had happened before she'd found out about Emily, she would've been overwhelmed with emotion, touched that he remembered. But now, she felt nothing. She couldn't be bothered to pick something else, so she went along with it. A few minutes later, as the staff adjusted Estella's flowing gown, she smiled and complimented her. "Ms. Hart, you and your boyfriend must be so in love. He picked the perfect dress for you. Your photos are going to turn out amazing!" As soon as she said that, another staff member entered hesitantly. "Mr. Moore said there's an emergency at work. He can't stay for the shoot today. We'll do a solo session for you first, and you can come back another day for the couple's photos." The staff member's smile was forced, and she kept her distance. She was probably bracing herself for an emotional outburst from Estella. After all, scenes like this had played out at the studio before. But to her surprise, Estella only nodded and accepted the news with complete indifference. … After the shoot, Estella took a cab home alone. Before she even stepped inside, she heard a woman's soft laughter from the living room. "Jenson, I can't believe I get to eat your cooking again after all these years." At the dining table, Jenson peeled a shrimp and placed it naturally onto the woman's plate. Just as he was about to say something, he turned and saw Estella standing at the door. For a few seconds, he looked caught off guard. Then, as if suddenly remembering, he said, "Estie, this is Emily Blanchard. She's going through something right now, so she'll be staying with us for a few days." Sitting across from him, Emily stole a quick glance at Estella before speaking in a soft, delicate voice. "You must be Jenson's girlfriend. I've heard about you. Thanks for having me over. Oh, Jenson made my favorite salt-baked shrimp. Why don't you join us?" As she spoke, she stood up and gave up the seat across from Jenson. Then, she casually took a spot beside him, settling in like she belonged there. Estella had thought Jenson's feelings were one-sided. But looking at them now, they seemed like two sides of the same coin. "You two enjoy," she said calmly. "I'm tired. I'll rest in the bedroom." With that, she turned to leave. But the moment she opened the door, she froze.