I Cured His Poison, I Left For My Brother

Chapter 3

I grew up with my foster brother in a rough, messy neighborhood crawling with all sorts of people, so I knew the fastest antidote for that kind of poison was sleeping with someone.

I panicked completely and called Meredith over and over, but every single call was hung up on immediately. Then Julian caught my hand. He told me he would take responsibility for me.

The very next day, Meredith ran away from home.

That is how I became the wicked little sister everyone talked about, the homewrecker who crawled into my sister's fiancé's bed to steal her marriage.

My own biological parents cut me off without a second thought and threw me out of the house. Only Julian stood by me through every single thing that happened.

I thought he loved me. I never saw it coming. Our entire marriage was nothing but a scam. Well, if that is how it was, why should I waste another second on a man who never loved me?

I pulled our wedding photo off the wall and tossed it straight into the incinerator. After I packed up all my things, I lay down on the bed. I was half‑dozing off when a pair of hands snaked around my waist. I jolted awake, my heart hammering.

Julian pressed a kiss to my cheek. "Clara, why did you not wait up for me?"

I pushed him away, my voice flat and empty, "I am tired today."

He did not even finish listening before he turned and walked straight to the closet.

Normally, he hated picking out outfits more than anything. I always picked everything he wore for him. But right now, he was standing in front of the full‑length mirror, picking out an outfit like he was having the time of his life.

"Clara, how does this outfit look for tomorrow?"

Tomorrow will be Meredith's birthday. If I had not almost been assaulted by one of Meredith's wealthy friends on that exact day when I was thirteen, I would never have remembered the date so clearly.

Every single year after that, at Meredith's birthday party, I was the main target of all their cruel pranks. Later on, my biological parents thought I was too much of an embarrassment, so they locked me in the basement. That was when my claustrophobia got worse than ever.

Julian could not even hide the giddiness in his voice if he tried.

I stared at him, my face blank, and nodded. "It looks good."

Pleased with my answer, he stopped sorting, grabbed his phone, and headed into the bathroom.

Usually, he was in and out of the shower in five minutes flat. But today, almost half an hour had ticked by, and he still had not come out.

His tablet, which he had left at the bedside, suddenly lit up with a notification.

Meredith: Husband, have you slept with her yet?

Meredith had sent him a photo where her chest was half‑bared.

She sent another message.

Meredith: If you dare touch her, I will not let you get away with it tomorrow.

Somehow, blood rushed straight to my head. I reached out and grabbed the tablet. I tried to unlock it. I tried our wedding anniversary, and it was wrong. I tried his birthday... wrong. I tried my birthday, but it was still wrong.

I typed in Meredith's birthday, and the screen unlocked with a sharp click.

My brain went blank for a beat, and before I knew it, hot tears were spilling down my cheeks, uncontrollable.

I remembered how he had stood right in front of me, years ago, changing every single one of his passwords to my birthday.

He had stared me right in the eye and promised firmly, "Clara, I will give you all the security you will ever need."

So now, was the person he wanted to give all that security to Meredith instead?

A sharp, burning resentment and indignation burst out of my chest, and my fingers moved almost of their own accord, tapping open their chat thread. Message after message packed the screen, every word thick and heavy with love between them.

I had forgotten that Julian, always so cool and aloof, could actually whisper those sweet, tangled declarations of love to someone else.

By the time Julian stepped out of the bathroom, I had already copied and sent every single one of those chat messages.

His hair was still dripping water down his neck, but he grabbed his jacket and bolted for the door without a single glance in my direction.

"Clara, there is an emergency at the company. I have to go handle it."

He was already halfway out the door when I called his name, "Julian."

He turned back, irritation written all over his face.

I stared at him, unwavering, and whispered, "It is thundering outside. Can you stay here with me tonight?"

He knew I was terrified of thunder. Once upon a time, he would cancel every single meeting and rush home to be with me every single time it stormed. If he really could not get out of work, he would take me straight to his office to stay with him instead.

A silly, impossible little hope sprouted in my chest. I had already humbly braced myself to forgive him. All he had to do was choose me.