My Fiancé’s “Detox Sundays” Were For His First Love

Chapter 2

That afternoon, I went to an upscale Manhattan mall to choose farewell gifts for several important clients.

The moment I entered the VIP section of its finest jewelry store, I overheard two sales associates speaking in hushed voices.

"Did you see that man just now? He was incredibly generous."

"He bought an entire limited-edition diamond tiara set for that woman's daughter without even blinking."

"The woman was gorgeous, too. The way he looked at her was so tender."

"She has to be his future wife. Who else would spoil a 5-year-old like that?"

I stopped in front of a display case and traced the sapphire necklace beneath the glass with one finger.

My heart gave a sharp throb.

Leon had never taken me to a private event.

He said Wall Street society was too complicated. He said I didn't dress elegantly enough and that my Asian features were too obvious, so taking me out would only embarrass him.

Yet he could parade Selena and her daughter through the busiest part of the city in broad daylight.

I rounded the display case to leave, but stopped when I passed the most exclusive VIP room at the end of the hall.

The door stood half open.

Lily was on the thick carpet holding a half-melted chocolate ice cream. With a shriek, she threw herself at Leon on the sofa and slapped both syrup-covered hands against the collar of his bespoke suit. Dark stains spread instantly.

I expected Leon to explode.

Once, when I accidentally splashed a single drop of red wine onto his shoe, he had abandoned me alone on the street in a downpour.

But he didn't get angry.

Smiling, Leon took Lily by the wrist, pulled out a handkerchief, and patiently wiped the cream from her fingers. "It's all right, Lily. It's only a suit. What matters is that you're happy."

Selena sat nearby with a cup of tea. With a show of reproach, she said, "Lily, you're being naughty. Leon's clothes are very expensive."

She set down her cup, walked over, and dabbed at Leon's suit with a tissue.

A little moisture got on her fingers. Leon naturally turned his hand over hers, took the tissue, and carefully wiped each drop away.

Every movement was gentle and attentive.

Selena leaned against the arm of the sofa and spoke in a sweet, affected voice. "Leon, are we interfering with your weekend with Claire by taking up your entire afternoon?"

Leon tossed the tissue into the trash. "Don't mention her. Claire and I are only together because the arrangement benefits us both. You and Lily are different. You're the exceptions."

The exceptions. Those words slipped through the gap in the door and stole the air from my lungs.

My five years of devotion.

The despair of hemorrhaging from an ectopic pregnancy. All those long nights spent waiting alone for him to come home. Before those words, all of it became a pile of rotting garbage.

I drew a deep breath, turned, and walked out of the mall.

Back home, I pulled a suitcase from the storage room and began packing everything that belonged to me: one coat, two business suits, and a few professional books.

The luxury apartment covered almost 3,200 square feet, yet my belongings could not even fill a 20-inch carry-on.

Everything else consisted of the lifeless black, white, and gray outfits Leon had forced on me according to his taste.

I zipped the suitcase and pushed it under the bed.

My phone vibrated with an imperious text from Leon.

Leon: Dinner at the Elizabeth Estate tonight. Be there at exactly 7 p.m. Don't be late.

Claire: Fine.

That evening, I carried my bag down to the underground garage. Leon's Maybach was already running.

I walked over and opened the front passenger door out of habit, only to find Selena and Lily inside. Wearing sneakers caked in garden mud, Lily was brazenly trampling the Maybach's pristine white leather seat.

Leon hated anyone leaving so much as a mark in his car.

Selena turned, covered her mouth, and cried, "Oh, Claire, I'm so sorry. Lily insisted on sitting in front for the view, and Leon couldn't bear to disappoint her, so he let us sit here. You don't mind, do you?"

Her words apologized, but her eyes gleamed with provocation.

I looked at the muddy prints, then at Leon in the driver's seat. He did not even turn his head.

"I don't mind."

Expressionless, I closed the passenger door, opened the rear door, and got in.

Leon glanced at me in the rearview mirror, confusion flickering across his face. He probably couldn't understand why I had not caused a scene.

He pressed the accelerator, and the car left the garage.

I watched the streets slide past outside my window.

Once, exhausted, I had accidentally fallen asleep against the passenger-side window. Leon had slammed on the brakes and ordered me out of the car. He said the front passenger seat was his private domain and no one was allowed to violate it.

Now someone else had covered that private domain in mud.

I felt nothing. If anything, it was almost funny.

So this was what it felt like to step aside voluntarily: light and free.