Chapter 2

He stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes fixed on me.

The home I'd lived in for nearly ten years had transformed from a warm cream aesthetic to a punk style.

Of course, punk was Veronica's favorite.

Years of housekeeping experience taught me never to overlook any cleaning blind spot.

From between the couch cushions, I pulled out a pair of underwear stained with questionable fluids.

Lucas snatched them away, his fingertips trembling.

"Zara, don't misunderstand. Yesterday the guys came over for a gathering. Veronica's period suddenly started, and she forgot to take these with her when she left."

Afraid I wouldn't believe him, he reached for his phone to pull up security footage.

I shook my head politely, stopping him.

"Mr. Harrington, you don't need to explain anything to me."

I didn't even care about him anymore. How could I possibly care about whose underwear it was?

"You're not angry?"

He stared at me intently, trying to find some trace that I cared.

After all, three years ago when I first found Veronica's underwear at home, I'd gone hysterical with rage.

I'd scratched his face like a madwoman, forcing him to promise he'd cut ties with Veronica.

What a shame. He made that promise, all right.

But their relationship never actually ended.

Still, that was then.

Now, I didn't feel even the slightest emotional ripple.

I put on disposable gloves and took the underwear from his hand.

"Mr. Harrington, if it's stained from menstruation, I'll disinfect it separately."

I turned and walked into the bathroom, only to find it piled with packages.

Familiar account name. Familiar discreet shipping.

I knew what they were—lingerie.

Out of professional courtesy, I asked.

"Will dinner need to be for two people?"

"Or if it's inconvenient, you can cancel. I'll refund the difference."

Lucas's expression changed.

Three years ago, he'd abandoned me twice to help Veronica pick out lingerie.

The first time, our son had just been diagnosed with a rare disease.

One phone call from Veronica, and he was gone all night.

When he returned, his explanation was casual.

"Veronica asked me to help her pick out clothes. It got late, so I just crashed on her couch."

I wanted to confront him, but our son's illness left me too exhausted.

Still, that thorn lodged deep in my heart.

The second time was three months later.

I'd just found out I was pregnant.

I clutched the pregnancy test result excitedly, wanting to tell him we had cord blood now—our son's disease could be cured.

But Lucas interrupted me impatiently.

"Veronica's package got delivered to the wrong address. I'm taking it over, and I'll help her choose some stuff while I'm there."

"If it gets too late, I won't be coming back."

He picked up the package naturally, ready to leave.

That time, my emotions completely shattered.

I slammed the door shut and frantically tore open the package, only to discover it was all lingerie.

I didn't understand what kind of friendship required helping someone pick out lingerie.

I especially didn't understand who a single woman would wear lingerie to seduce!

That day, I cursed them with every filthy word I could think of.

When I finally exhausted myself, he just gave me a cold glance.

"Done with your tantrum?"

"Zara, your mind is filthy, so you see filth in everything."

"So what if it's lingerie? We have a pure friendship."

In that moment, I couldn't hold back my tears anymore.

I clutched the pregnancy test result I'd never managed to show him, crying until I broke down completely.

And Lucas never once looked back.

Now.

Seeing Lucas remain silent, I spoke calmly.

"If you're not sure, I'll continue cooking. Two servings."

"If there's leftovers, you can pack some for her."

Perhaps my composure completely infuriated Lucas. His eyes reddened instantly.

"Zara, can you stop acting like you don't care!"

"Veronica and I really are just friends! Why didn't you believe me three years ago, and why won't you believe me now?"

He looked as if he'd suffered the greatest injustice.

But I didn't feel even a trace of sympathy anymore.

I only cared about when I could finish cleaning and move on to the next job.

I pushed past him and headed into the kitchen.

But just as I pulled cilantro from my basket, he spoke up.

"Zara, I'm allergic to cilantro. Did you... forget?"