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Chapter 4
As soon as I entered the house, I heard a cooking tutorial playing in the kitchen.[]
The living room was a complete mess, with ingredients scattered everywhere.[]
In the kitchen, I found Roman frantically attempting to cook, researching all night to prepare a nourishing soup for Ivy.[]
When he saw me, his eyes lit up. “Aren’t you good at making soup? Come show me how. I want to make a soup for Ivy. Nothing fancy, just something that helps with menstrual cramps.“[]
Seeing his animated expression, I was momentarily stunned.[]
I’d seen this look before–when I agreed to hand over my 5% shares.[]
But thinking it over and over, I realized that every time he looked like this, it was because of Ivy.[]
Noticing his scalded hands, I said coldly, “We have chefs specifically trained in making soups. You don’t need to do this…“]
Before I could finish, he cut me off eagerly: “You don’t understand. It means more
you
make it yourself…”
Looking into his eyes as he said this, I saw they were bright with passion.[]
I once went to the same lengths to make him nourishing soups. Even when the servants whispered that I was acting more like a maid than the lady of the house, I didn’t care.]]
But Roman never appreciated my efforts. He not only mocked me verbally but once even poured scalding soup on my leg, leaving a permanent scar.
Thinking of this, I instinctively stepped back, which he misinterpreted as me being difficult about teaching him.
His expression suddenly darkened. “Serena, are you still upset about having to apologize earlier?“]
“I already promised you, didn’t I? After the wedding, I’ll take you on a world tour.“]
“Besides, our wedding is just three days away. I’ll make sure you’re the center of attention…“]
Ignoring him, I turned and headed upstairs.]
He was furious, lifting the ladle in his hand and throwing it at me, hitting me square in the
te back. []
I winced in pain and grabbed the railing, but I didn’t turn around or make a sound. I just gripped the railing tightly, went upstairs, and began packing my belongings.
The kitchen continued to echo with noises, followed by an angry roar, but I had no interest in finding out what happened.[]
After I finished packing, I dragged my suitcase downstairs and glanced toward the kitchen.
Only then did I realize that not only had he failed to make the porridge, but he’d burned himself in the process. The housekeeper was carefully bandaging his wound.
Seeing me, he glared and spat, “Serena, you’re nothing compared to Ivy. She would never treat me this way!“]
Chapter 4
“She-“0
I coldly interrupted him before he could finish: “Then cancel the wedding. It’s not me you want to marry anyway.“[]
Hearing this, Roman jumped up angrily, causing the bandage to slip and reveal his blistered arm. With tears in his eyes, he shouted, “Serena, I dare you to say that again!“]]
I was taken aback, never expecting he would go to such lengths for Ivý. Taking a deep breath, I said calmly: “We’re breaking up, and the wedding is off. Do I need to say it again?“]
Roman looked at me with suspicion, assuming I was playing hard to get. He mocked, “Serena, you were the one who insisted on having this wedding in the first place. Now you want to cancel it? Do you think this act will make me care about you more? Keep dreaming.”
Not wanting to argue further, I grabbed my luggage and headed for the door, having already booked an international flight for that evening.
Before leaving, I prepared a video montage to replace our wedding slideshow and gave it to the housekeeper–it was my final gift to Roman.
The housekeeper, thinking it was a surprise I’d planned for Roman, promised to play it at the wedding.
After a moment’s hesitation, remembering how Roman had thrown the spatula at me, he asked with concern, “Miss Chase, is your back injury alright?“]]
I paused, then smiled and shook my head.[]
Roman had always thrown things at me when angry, never caring about the damage he caused. Over the years, I had grown accustomed to it.
Besides, that blow to my back was nothing compared to the pain in my heart–a mere drop in the ocean of my suffering.[
Looking at the passengers boarding outside the window, I sent Roman a voice message: “Roman Thornfield, congratulations in advance on your marriage to Ivy.”
“I hope you’ll enjoy my gift.“]
Seeing the red exclamation mark on the screen, I remembered that Roman had blocked me long ago.]
As the announcement for imminent takeoff came over the speakers, I watched the plane gradually leave the ground and smiled at my phone screen, saying:
“Goodbye, Roman.”
