Chapter 2

My parents shot me a reproachful look the moment they saw them.

Then their eyes filled with immense joy and affection.

"You're back." My father stepped forward and familiarly took the child from Bridges's arms.

At that moment, I had to admit it.

After five years away, my place had been completely taken by Bridges.

Only after everyone had entered the house did Angela realize I was still standing outside.

Looking somewhat embarrassed, she pulled me inside:

"Wait a moment, I'll get you a chair."

"Angela, I'll do it." As soon as the words left his mouth, Bridges stopped Angela's movement. He shot me a triumphant look.

I lowered my eyes. From the earlier pulling, my grotesque skin showed spots of blood.

"Fernandez is back." Only Angela's father offered an awkward smile and small talk.

I forced the corners of my mouth up with difficulty but said nothing.

At that moment, Bridges came over with a stool.

"Sorry, Fernandez, I really couldn't find a chair. It's all my fault. Why don't you take my chair?"

Though he said this, his eyes held no trace of apology.

"Enough. He has hands and feet. You even brought him a stool—what face does he have to blame you?"

My dad interrupted impatiently.

I hadn't said a word since entering, yet I seemed to have done everything wrong.

"Let's eat."

I sat awkwardly on that stool in the corner.

Looking at the seafood feast on the table, I didn't know what to eat.

"Can you please eat properly? Who are you putting on that pitiful act for?" My dad sounded impatient.

Angela cut a piece of fish for me: "Try this. The housekeeper's cooking is excellent."

Looking at that bright, colorful piece of fish in my bowl, I only felt my mouth growing more bitter:

"I'm allergic to seafood."

At the dining table, Angela's face stiffened, her eyes filled with guilt and panic.

Five years was simply too long. She had forgotten.

"I'm full. I'm going to rest now."

In the end, I was the one who broke the oppressive silence.

Only to discover that everyone looked even more embarrassed.

"My room—is it gone too?"

Angela was silent for a moment: "Your room has the best lighting. Bridges's health isn't good..."

So he'd occupied my room.

"And you came back too suddenly. We haven't had time to clean the guest room. How about you stay in the living room tonight?"

A massive dizziness swept through my mind.

"So my room—you and he are living in it?"

I suppressed the anger inside me and asked word by word.

Angela froze.

All these years, she'd told herself that Bridges was just a substitute, but she didn't realize that everything she'd done for Bridges had broken her own principles.

At this moment, faced with my questioning, she suddenly didn't know how to defend herself.

Angela's silence dealt me a heavy blow.

"Are you two married?" I asked an irrelevant question.

Angela instinctively shook her head.

I laughed bitterly. Not married, yet they could sleep together and even had a child.

It turned out Angela's conservatism was only directed at me.

An inexplicable rage surged from my heart. The immense anger made me extraordinarily strong. I flipped the dining table with one motion: "Get out."