Chapter 1
On the last evening of Christmas, after working overtime continuously for half a month, I carried several bags of gifts and returned home.
As I opened the door, the rich aroma of food greeted me.
My parents and my husband, Justin Palmer, were happily setting dishes on the dining table.
When my mother saw me, her brow furrowed. "Didn't you say you'd be working overtime all through Christmas?" she asked, her voice sharp with annoyance. "Why didn't you give us a heads-up before coming back?"
My father set down his glass, his expression grim. "So you still remember you have a home? Justin said you were a workaholic. I thought you had forgotten about us long ago."
Justin sneered, shaking his head. "Didn't you say you had endless work? How do you still have the free time to come back?"
My throat felt tight and sour as I looked at them. "Don't you know why I was working overtime—"
Before I could finish my sentence, laughter rang out from my bedroom.
Megan Deverel ran out wearing my plush pajamas, holding a yellowed notebook in her hand.
"Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell, I finally found out what was hidden in Samantha's cabinet!" she squealed gleefully. "It's her diary!"
When she caught sight of me standing in the doorway, her laughter abruptly ceased, and she instinctively shrank behind Justin.
My parents stepped forward a few paces, shielding her behind them as if afraid I would attack her.
Watching this scene, all the strength drained from my body, and the gifts scattered across the floor. It turned out that in this family, I was the extra one.
*****
Megan hid behind Justin, poking half her head out with a timid look on her face.
The lock on the notebook had been violently pried open, exposing the yellowed pages inside.
I wrote this diary when I was eighteen in high school.
I kept it hidden in my cabinet, and even my parents had never opened it. Yet this person before me was flaunting it like a joke.
"Samantha Palmer, why are you back so suddenly..." Her tone was full of surprise, and she instinctively glanced at Justin.
Seeing this, Justin blocked her even more thoroughly.
"Megan couldn't get a train ticket home, and her shared apartment is quite noisy," he said indifferently. "Since you were working overtime during the holiday, I let her stay here for a few days. Don't mind it."
I stared at him blankly, the gifts in my hands dropping to the ground.
Three months ago, Megan joined our company as a fresh graduate and became Justin's secretary.
At a welcome party, I happened to learn that they had graduated from the same university.
Justin smiled at her and asked, "I wonder if that breakfast shop behind the campus back gate is still there."
Megan's eyes lit up, and she immediately clapped her hands. "It is, it is! But I could never wake up early in the morning, so I rarely went there to eat."
The two of them chatted enthusiastically, creating an unusual, intimate atmosphere.
Later, Megan's desk was moved directly into Justin's private office.
As I worked at my desk, I could occasionally hear my colleagues gossiping around the water cooler.
"Mr. Palmer and Megan chat so well together," one coworker murmured. "There couldn't be something going on between them, right?"
"To be honest, they really make a great couple," another added softly. "Mr. Palmer is usually so cold and distant, but whenever he sees Megan, his expression melts. Megan is so lively and chatty. She's a perfect match for Mr. Palmer."
"Look at you, shipping them already," someone teased with a laugh.
I buried my head in my financial reports and pretended not to hear a thing.
To avoid suspicion, Justin had never publicly disclosed the fact that we were married. Justin and I had married at our parents' arrangement.
At the time, my parents had taken a liking to Justin and insisted that I accept his courtship.
After getting married, our relationship was reasonably harmonious, except that Justin claimed he needed to avoid conflict of interest and refrained from promoting me for three whole years.
He even urged me to resign and become a full-time housewife.
When my parents learned about it, instead of objecting, they joined him in persuading me.
"He holds such a high position, so he naturally has to consider his professional image," my mother insisted. "You're in the same company, so avoiding suspicion is the right thing to do. I think Justin is doing the right thing."
I was deeply shocked when I heard those words.
Growing up, I had always tried my best to be a good, obedient daughter, terrified of making them angry or causing trouble.
Yet they were never satisfied with me, constantly finding fault.
I always thought it was because I wasn't good enough that they treated me this way.
It was only after meeting Justin and seeing my parents' attitude toward him that I finally understood it had nothing to do with how well I performed.
They were simply dissatisfied that I was a daughter.
In their eyes, Justin was their ideal child, young, successful, mature, and dependable. And I was merely a flawed disappointment.
I thought I didn't care about any of this anymore. But it turned out I was wrong.
A few days ago, I held my reports and knocked on Justin's office door. A few seconds later, Megan opened the door, her face slightly flushed.
