Chapter 3
As the morning mist began to condense into dew, Stella moved her stiff body a bit. She glanced at her call history. All those calls to Ernest were unanswered.
A faint, sarcastic smile touched her lips. ‘If he knew I was calling him to sign the divorce papers, would he still ignore me?’
Stella refused to wait any longer. She carried her luggage downstairs. Seeing Stella, Betty hurried out of the kitchen with her apron still on, her eyes full of concern. “Mrs. Lloyd, where are you going?”
“Betty, I’m leaving to look for a job. I may not be coming back. This is for you. It’s a gift for everything you’ve done to me,” Stella said, pressing a small velvet box into Betty’s hands.
Inside lay a necklace Stella designed for a competition seven years ago. But an unexpected pregnancy enraged Ernest, who shattered it to pieces.
It was Betty who stayed up through the night, carefully gathering each gem and painstakingly reassembling the necklace. Betty returned the fixed necklace to Stella, but from that day, Stella’s career had come to a halt.
Over the years, Betty had been the only one who truly cared for her and the only one who ever called her “Mrs. Lloyd.”
Stella had kept the necklace as a memory of her old self. But now that she had chosen to move on, she wanted to leave the past behind for good.
“Take care of yourself, Betty. Thank you for everything,” Stella said softly, her voice warm but firm. “And from now on, if we meet again, just call me Stella.”
Hearing this, Betty knew something was wrong. She immediately took out her phone to call Ernest, but the call was cut off after one ring. She tried again, only to be hung up on once more. Anxious, she looked up at Stella’s retreating figure, her eyes lingering on the scar at nape of Stella’s back.
That scar was from three years ago, on New Year’s Eve. When Irene had knocked over a pot of boiling tea, Stella threw herself in front of the child to protect her.
In the end, the call still wouldn’t connect. Betty slowly lowered her phone and made no further attempts. She simply stood there, quietly watching until Stella disappeared from view.
Half an hour later, Stella stood outside a small apartment. As she turned the key and opened the door, a sense of familiarity and relief washed over her.
The minimalist style, the layout, and the colors she had always loved were all there. Even the air carried a faint, familiar scent she remembered. By the window, an unfinished painting rested on an easel, and hanging nearby was An Analysis of Mondrian’s Compositions.
This was the dream apartment she had saved for years to buy during college. She had personally designed every detail of its layout. But after marrying Ernest, she rarely returned, except for the occasional visit to sketch out designs.
Stella set down her things and walked over to the easel. She ran her fingers lightly over the painting, as if seeing her nineteen-year-old self who was full of dreams. ‘How could I ever let that go?’ she wondered.
Her phone vibrated on the counter, ringing with the specific tone she had set for Noreen Lloyd. Stella answered, but before she could speak, a sharp young woman’s voice came through, “Send me the high-end designs for this quarter by 10 o’clock.”
Noreen Lloyd, Ernest’s younger sister, dreamed of becoming a jewelry designer but lacked the talent. She always turned to Stella for design drawings. Initially, she had been polite, even pleading. So Stella reluctantly gave in, considering Noreen’s connection with Ernest.
But over time, Noreen’s pleas had hardened into demands. She not only asked for more designs, but also raised her standards, pushing Stella to complete everything from client commissions to competition entries. She even made Stella hide everything from Ernest and demanded award-winning results. This content belongs to
Stella had been struggling to balance household duties with Noreen’s constant design requests. Sometimes she was so overwhelmed that she skipped meals and lost sleep. It was utter exhaustion. Even the recent car accident occurred because she had been rushing to deliver another design for Noreen.
On the other end, Noreen continued her complaints. “Seriously, must I always remind you? Can’t you just send the design to me on your own?”
“I was in a car accident,” Stella interrupted, no longer willing to listen to the complaints. There was a moment of silence on the line.
But just a few seconds later, Noreen let out a scornful laugh. “I heard that. You even used it to ruin Ernest’s date with Sylvia. Stella, how low can you go? A car accident? Well, you’re not dead, are you?”
“Let me be clear. I’m not Ernest. Your little games won’t work on me. Send me the design. Now. If I actually win the award, I might even say something nice about you to Ernest. Otherwise…” she added coldly.
Stella had braced for coldness, but never imagined Noreen could be so cruel. “Otherwise just let Sylvia draw it for you. I’m done serving you.” She hung up and blocked Noreen’s number, giving Noreen no chance to respond.
Her hands trembled slightly. Anger stirred within her, yet so did a faint sense of relief. Over the years, she had given everything for Ernest and his family, receiving neither respect nor gratitude in return.
She had trapped herself in the love and devotion to Ernest, but moved only herself. Now the total disappointment finally woke her to her own foolishness.
Her eyes fell on the divorce agreement lying nearby. She picked it up. ‘If he doesn’t come home or answer my calls, I’ll just deliver it to him myself,’ she quietly made up her mind.
Staring at the fingerprint lock on the private elevator at Lloyd Group, Stella suddenly remembered that in their second year of marriage, Ernest had downgraded her access rights to “visitor” level.
He said, “Mrs. Lloyd doesn’t need these.” After that, she never entered the company again. Luckily, her other fingerprint permissions within the building had never been revoked. She passed through unimpeded.
“Stella?” As the elevator door opened, Noreen’s surprised voice came out. Without a glance in Noreen’s direction, Stella stepped in and pressed the button for the top floor.
Noreen froze for a moment, then quickly regained her composure. With a sneer, she thrust out her hand arrogantly. “Hand it over.”
“Hand what over?” Stella asked in confusion. She made no move to reach for her bag, her calm demeanor only adding to Noreen’s irritation.
“Stop playing dumb. The design drawing for my competition,” Noreen’s words trailed off as her eyes widened in sudden alarm. “Don’t tell me you didn’t bring it.”
Stella’s expression remained unreadable. “It’s not that I didn’t bring it. I never even started it.” Seeing the shock on Noreen’s face, she added coolly, “Don’t you prefer Sylvia as your sister-in-law anyway? Let her draw it for you. Why keep asking an outsider like me?”
The elevator door opened. Stella smiled faintly and stepped out. Noreen was about to swear, but she suddenly realized they had already reached the top floor.
‘Could Stella come here to tell Ernest that she has been drawing all my designs all these years?’ The thought sent a jolt of panic through Noreen. She rushed out and shouted. “Stella, wait!”
“Ms. Spencer, I’m sorry, but Mr. Lloyd really isn’t available.” Sean stood firmly in front of Ernest’s office, looking at Stella with barely concealed disdain.
Stella was long accustomed to Sean’s dismissive attitude. She handed the file bag over and said calmly, “Then please give this to Ernest, Mr. Leach.”