Chapter 2

The taco slipped out of Silas' hand and landed on the floor. His smile froze. I couldn't figure out why he looked so stunned and thrown off. He hated me. Shouldn't he be relieved that I was finally walking away? Who was he even trying to fool? "Is it because I'm broke? And you don't want to live like this anymore?" Silas asked. He looked hurt. The way he looked at me almost made me want to laugh, but instead, my eyes welled up with tears. He'd faked being bankrupt just to force me into a divorce, and now that I was finally going through with it, he was making it seem like I was the one being selfish for not wanting to live in poverty. "Silas, don't you think you're being disgusting right now?" I muttered. I never would've guessed the guy who once held my hand and promised he'd never leave me would end up like this. It wasn't about him loving Whitney or wanting a divorce. It was the fact that he was turning me into the "bad guy" so he could walk away with no guilt. Silas' eyes went wide. He grabbed my hand, and his anger boiled over like he was ready to snap. "Rhea, you promised you'd stick by me no matter what when I went bankrupt. It's only been three months, and now you're showing your true colors, and even calling me disgusting!" I yanked my hand away and took a few steps back. I shot him a cold glare. "Yeah, I said that. But the truth is, you were never bankrupt. You lied about it just to force me into divorcing you so you wouldn't feel guilty, didn't you? And don't you think it's disgusting how manipulative you've been?" Silas' face went dark. He opened his mouth like he was about to argue, but in the end, he stayed quiet. I used to think he was so charming, but now I couldn't stand to even look at him. "Pack your things and leave tonight. I'll be waiting for you at the courthouse tomorrow at 9:00 am. I don't want anything from the Larimers, just Seymour Group my parents left me," I said. Silas stayed silent. I was losing my patience. I called Whitney and told her to come get him. I also told her to bring him a suit. Whitney picked up on it right away. Since I was the one making the call, it was clear that Silas and I were done for good. She arrived in less than half an hour, looking glamorous. She was dressed head to toe in designer clothes. Even the bag holding Silas' suit was Louis Vuitton. I'd been jumping from one job to another every day for the past three months, and seeing this just made it all feel even more absurd. I couldn't shake my growing resentment for Silas. He treated Whitney like she was royalty. Without him, there was no way she could afford that outfit or that million-dollar bag, no matter how many part-time jobs she had. I looked at Silas and struggled to keep my voice steady as I said, "The clothes you're wearing belong to me. Change into yours and leave." Then, I turned and left the apartment. Whitney followed a moment later. "Silas just... didn't know how to tell you, so he came up with this plan to get you to ask for a divorce. We never meant to hurt you," she said. I turned to face her. My eyes were drawn to her flawless hands. A bitter laugh escaped me as I raised my own, rough and scarred, toward her. How could she even say they never meant to hurt me? "This is what you call 'never meant to hurt me'?" I asked. For three months, I barely got more than four hours of sleep a night. The rest of the time, I was either working or bouncing between jobs. I even walked three miles back and forth between two of my part-time gigs just to save a few bucks on bus fare. At first, my feet were full of blisters. But I pushed through the pain, popping each one as it showed up. Half a month later, calluses formed, and the blisters stopped. Now, all the sacrifices I made felt like a joke. From beginning to end, Silas and Whitney had been laughing behind my back. They were even betting on when I'd finally give up and divorce him. I never imagined the love I had for him would be the one thing he'd use to hurt me. Whitney bit her lip and lowered her gaze. "Ms. Seymour, I'm sorry, but Silas and I really do love each other." That was it. I couldn't keep it in anymore. I shot her a cold, hard stare. "Love each other? Do you honestly think that makes what you did any less disgusting? Maybe I’d still have some respect for you if you’d admit that you two worked together to push me out." Whitney made a face like she was ready to argue, but then her gaze moved past me. Her face softened, and tears started to fill her eyes. "Silas… Ms. Seymour misunderstood us… Please, tell her we never meant to hurt her…" she said. Silas had changed into his sharp black suit. He looked every bit the polished, dignified man I used to know. He didn't look anything like the guy who'd been wearing that ratty T-shirt and jeans earlier. This was how he was supposed to look, but all I felt was that he seemed like a stranger. He stepped in front of Whitney and blocked her from my view. "It was my idea. Whitney had nothing to do with it. If you want someone to blame, blame me," Silas said. He shielded Whitney like I was some kind of threat to her. My chest tightened like something invisible was squeezing it, and the pain was unbearable. Silas had never let anyone hurt the person he cared about—and it was painfully obvious that person wasn't me anymore. Then again, maybe this was for the best. At least now, I could stop clinging to false hope. I could finally let go of the beautiful memories of our past that had been keeping me stuck. I took a deep breath and said, "Yeah, I should blame you." As soon as the words slipped out, I slapped Silas across the face.