Chapter 3

That night, I didn't go home.

I booked a room at a hotel near the hospital.

Isaac sent over a dozen messages, starting with accusations, then threats, and finally ending in barely audible pleas.

"Where are you? Let's talk."

"I was wrong. I shouldn't have argued with you over that money."

"Please come back. We won't split the bills anymore."

I looked at the messages, curled my lips, and turned off my phone.

No more splitting bills?

He probably thought that if he just took back those ridiculous rules, I would obediently return to being the unpaid, ever-dutiful housekeeper like before.

What wishful thinking.

The next day, I went straight to my parents' house.

My dad Dylan Howe was in the yard watering his orchids and wasn't surprised at all to see me.

"Finally came to your senses?"

"Yeah."

"That's good."

He put down the watering can, "Do whatever you want to do. If the sky falls, I'll hold it up for you."

My nose stung, and tears almost fell.

For the past five years, I had almost cut off contact with my dad.

It was my own stubbornness, I had to prove to him that I hadn't chosen the wrong person.

I recalled Doris boasting in front of me, "My Isaac is so capable, how can Dylan's meager salary compare!"

I naively believed that my love could fill the gap of his pathetic self-esteem inflated by his family and turn him into a real man.

So, I repeatedly refused my dad's help and played along in this self-deceiving farce with him.

Thinking about it now, it was truly ridiculous.

I stayed at my parents' house for three days.

On the second day, Doris came to make a scene.

She plopped down in our yard, slapping her thighs and wailing, "What sin have I committed! To have such a home-wrecking daughter-in-law! Disrespectful to her in-laws, and even trying to talk my son into divorce!"

My dad had the housekeeper bring a chair and pour a cup of tea, placing them in front of her. "Doris, let's talk calmly. Don't ruin your health with anger. The matters between Sabrina and Isaac are for them, as a couple, to handle. It's not good for us elders to interfere."

"My son is being driven to despair by her! How can I not interfere? Sabrina, you come out here!"

I stood by the second-floor window, watching coldly.

My dad sighed and said to her, "Whatever trouble Isaac has gotten into outside, let him come and talk to me himself. Making a scene here won't solve the problem and only makes everyone lose face."

Seeing that my dad wouldn't yield to either temptation or threats, and feeling bored after making a scene all morning, Doris left grumbling.

No sooner had she left than Isaac showed up at my dad's company.

My dad had his assistant stop him at the door.

"Mr. Saunders, Mr. Howe is very busy. Please resolve your personal matters with Miss Howe privately."

Isaac was denied entry and finally quieted down.

On Thursday, I returned to the "home" I shared with Isaac.

I was there to get my things.

The house was a mess, with takeout boxes piled in the corner emitting a sour smell.

Isaac was sitting on the sofa, unshaven and red-eyed.

When he saw me, he jumped up. "You still remember to come back?"

"I'm here to get my things." Without looking at him, I walked straight to the bedroom.

He followed me, his voice hoarse. "Sabrina, let's talk. I know I was wrong. I shouldn't have insisted on splitting bills with you, shouldn't have calculated that three hundred dollars. Please forgive me this once, let's live well together."

I opened the wardrobe and started packing my clothes. "It's too late, Isaac."

"Too late for what?" He grabbed my wrist, "What do you mean?"

His grip was strong, hurting me.

"Let's get a divorce." I looked at him calmly.

He looked as if he had heard the biggest joke. "Divorce? Sabrina, what right do you have to ask me for a divorce?"

He threw off my hand and pointed around the room. "This house, I worked hard to earn the money to buy it! Everything you eat and wear, isn't it all paid for by me? Now you think you're tough enough to kick me aside?"

Looking at his distorted face, I felt only strangeness. So this was the man I had loved for five years, an overgrown baby living in his own fantasy.

"Isaac, have you ever wondered how your monthly post-tax salary of fifteen thousand dollars could support this three million dollars apartment in the city center?"

He was stunned.