Chapter 4

I finally couldn't hold back.

Like a trapped animal, I lunged at the painting, clawing at the viscous gray with my nails.

The paint and powder were smeared all over my hands and face.

"Nicole!" Rodger's enraged shout echoed as he rushed over and grabbed my wrist. "Look at yourself! Jolene painted this for Jacob out of kindness, and you've actually destroyed it!"

I was trapped by his grip and struggled in vain.

I looked at him, whom I had loved for five years, and cried out with a heart-wrenching scream, "She used Jacob's ashes to paint! Rodger, that's my son!"

Rodger's grip grew tighter, and his gaze turned colder. "Jolene uses Jacob's ashes to paint. It is just another form of remembrance! Jacob is gone!" He said, word by word, "Stop letting the past trap you and others!"

I collapsed onto the cold floor and stared at the ruined painting.

My heart, too, was being hollowed out bit by bit.

That night, I locked myself in my room.

At midnight, Jolene's screams pierced through the walls again. She was pretending to have nightmares again.

I heard Rodger's hurried footsteps and his gentle reassurances.

I lay alone in the empty master bedroom.

After an indeterminate time, I got out of bed. Driven by an inexplicable urge, I silently made my way to the guest room door.

The door was ajar, leaving a narrow gap.

I saw Jolene in a thin camisole dress, wrapping her arms around Rodger's waist from behind. "Rodger, I'm scared..." Her voice was soft and seductive, like a purr. "Stay with me tonight, won't you?"

Rodger's body tensed for a moment.

I wished he would push her away, just as he had done when a female colleague attempted to throw herself at him under the influence of alcohol years ago.

He had mercilessly pushed her away and said coldly, "Keep your distance. I'm married."

But this time, he didn't.

His body stiffened, and he kept silent for a few seconds.

Then he abruptly turned around and embraced Jolene fiercely. He kissed her with a wild intensity.

In the dim light, they were kissing. Their breathing grew heavier, with even faint, suppressed moans.

I stood outside the door and watched quietly.

I didn't burst in, nor did I cry out.

I simply raised my cold hand and silently closed the door completely, shutting out the scene and the sounds within.

I returned to my room and walked to the window. I gazed at the moonlight pouring over the bed.

With my heart completely numb, I didn't feel so much pain.