Chapter 2

Daniel finally looked at me.

"Stop messing around."

Two simple words, dismissing my statement as a joke.

"I'm serious."

"I had four surgeries today, I'm exhausted."

In the past, whenever he brought up work, it was his way of telling me to shut up.

Daniel unbuttoned his cuffs and walked into the living room, acting as if nothing had happened.

I caught the scent of plum blossom perfume, Victoria's favorite.

A wave of nausea washed over me. I closed my eyes and continued.

"I'll draft the divorce papers. I'll show them to you when they're ready, if you don't..."

My words were cut off by a ringtone.

"Little Sunshine, pick up the phone! Little Sunshine, pick up the phone!"

Victoria's voice, chirpy and sweet, came from Daniel's jacket.

"Little Sunshine" was a nickname Victoria had given Daniel.

A nickname from middle school.

A term of endearment reserved only for her.

Daniel glanced at me. "I didn't know the ringtone changed."

Even his explanation sounded utterly flimsy.

When he answered, his voice was exceptionally gentle, a complete contrast to how he'd spoken to me just moments before.

"Victoria, what's wrong?"

It was always like this.

Sometimes, I couldn't tell who Daniel's wife really was.

After he hung up, Daniel looked down at me.

"Victoria has a low fever today. She said she's craving your pumpkin porridge."

I clenched my fists, staring at him in disbelief.

"Daniel, do you know what time it is?"

The clock on the wall had long since passed midnight.

Daniel's voice was flat.

"You're a freelance artist. It's different for you; it's okay if you sleep in tomorrow."

I gave a self-deprecating laugh.

I was an illustrator, and my time was indeed flexible.

But that didn't give Daniel the right to command me.

Apparently, my health was insignificant in his eyes.

I took a deep breath, staring at him intently.

"Daniel, leaving everything else aside, can you at least respect me? I'm talking about divorce right now."

Daniel's indifferent expression finally changed. He frowned.

"Victoria is sick. Sarah, be reasonable."

Daniel's gaze was like he was looking at an irrational child.

I struggled to breathe.

His eyes—they were what I used to love most about him.

I could still recall the first time I saw Daniel, sitting on my backyard wall, holding a cat, turning to look at me.

Those clear, yet cool, eyes.

One glance had lodged itself in my heart.

One glance had made me foolishly love him for thirteen years.

Now I realized, I loved the Daniel I had idealized countless times in my mind.

"You haven't been home for five days, and the moment you walk in, you want me to cook for Victoria. Daniel, am *I* the unreasonable one?"

Faced with my accusation, Daniel replied as if it were nothing.

"It's just one meal. You're being too petty. Victoria is like your sister."

How ridiculous. Every single argument we'd ever had.

It always ended with that same phrase.

*She's like your sister.*

The words were a curse.

Shrouding my five years of marriage.

I scoffed, my gaze on Daniel growing increasingly unfamiliar.

The "different" I thought he was, was ultimately no different at all.

Daniel was just like the rest of the Campbell family.

"Daniel, remember this: her name is Victoria, and my name is Sarah Campbell."

I spoke each word distinctly.

"I don't have any strange 'sisters,' and I don't need anyone to arrange one for me!"

A flicker of disbelief crossed Daniel's eyes.

"Sarah, why are you acting like a shrew?"