Chapter 7
Noreen was filled with confidence. ‘After all, for years Stella has avoided everything Ernest hates, no matter how small it is.’
Stella opened her mouth to reply, but Noreen cut her off impatiently. “That’s enough. I don’t have time to waste on your nonsense. My friend is waiting for me.”
Following Noreen’s gaze, Stella noticed a woman around Noreen’s age sitting at a nearby table and watching them closely.
But before leaving, Noreen lowered her voice once more. “You have three days. Bring me the final design, or I’ll tell Ernest exactly what happened here today.” Official source is.net
With that, she didn’t wait for a response and returned straight to her table. As she sat down, the woman across from her glanced toward Stella and asked, “Noreen, do you know her? Why not invite her to join us?”
“I do, but we’re not close. A quick greeting is more than enough,” Noreen said nonchalantly, signaling clearly that she had no intention of continuing the conversation.
Stella’s hand, halfway toward her bag, went still. ‘Not close? She has taken so many designs from me since college, yet she has the nerve to say we’re not close?’
‘Fine, it makes sense. Ernest never even acknowledged me as his wife. Why would his sister see me as family?’
There was a time when such a thought would have wounded her, but now it didn’t even bother her. She would never again waste her energy trying to please those who didn’t value her.
Stella walked out of the café without a hint of hesitation. Meanwhile, the woman sitting across from Noreen kept gazing in the direction where Stella had disappeared.
“Jessica, what is it?” Noreen felt a twinge of anxiety. ‘Has Stella told people about her secret marriage with Ernest? If anyone found out Ernest’s wife is just a useless housewife and a pathetic fool who does nothing but chase after men, that would bring utter shame upon our family.’
Jessica Slater snapped back to attention. “It’s nothing. It’s just that the man she was with earlier looked a lot like Jeremy Ford, the CEO of Lumière Group.”
Relieved it wasn’t what she had feared, Noreen relaxed slightly. “Lumière Group?” She knew the name. Though fairly new, the company had already made a mark in the design world and earned respect for its unique style.
‘What would the CEO of Lumière Group want with someone like Stella? What would he even see in her?’ Noreen refused to believe it.
“Impossible, Jessica. You must have seen wrong,” Noreen stated firmly. “I may not be close to her, but I know she’s just a housewife who does nothing but ask for money. She’s utterly talentless. Why would a CEO like him even notice her? Even a street beggar would look down on her.”
‘At least beggars earn their keep. But Stella? With a house full of servants, she just lazes around playing the lady of leisure. Giving her money is a complete waste.’ Noreen thought with contempt.
Seeing how certain Noreen was, Jessica didn’t press further. ‘Maybe I was mistaken about that man. He must just look like Jeremy Ford,’ she told herself.
On her way home, Stella stopped by the grocery store. When she got back to her kitchen, she preheated the oven and began washing the vegetables.
As she started chopping, she suddenly realized everything she had bought was for Ernest and Irene. There was nothing there just for herself.
Her hand stilled. She stared at the vegetables on the cutting board for a long moment, then abruptly pushed them away and searched through the pantry for chili peppers. The oven was preheated and ready, but she had lost all interest in cooking.
It was already 9 pm when Ernest brought Irene back to Lloyd Villa in Regal Park Estates. The warm yellow porch light that usually welcomed them was off, and the living room stood so quiet that they could hear only the ticking of the wall clock.
Ernest frowned slightly. “Betty, hasn’t Stella returned yet?” he asked, his voice low and edged with impatience.
“No, she hasn’t,” Betty said, twisting the corner of her apron with a slightly flustered look. She had rushed over to welcome them, but now seemed unsure of what to say next.
Irene’s small fingers curled tightly around the strap of her backpack. ‘Mom’s always at the door by now. She hugs me and Dad and asks if I missed her at kindergarten. But she just had to go to work these days. No one even made my strawberry cake.’
Irene pressed her lips together, her heart feeling like a tangled ball of yarn. “Mom is so silly. She could just stay home and live comfortably. Why does she have to work? She’s not like Ms. Jansen. She can’t do all those things. Why can’t she just stop comparing herself?”
At first, she was thrilled that her mom wasn’t around. Finally no one was nagging her. She could eat whatever she craved and stay up as late as she wanted. It felt like freedom.
But after two days of big meals, all she wanted was a bowl of her mom’s gentle oatmeal. It used to appear without her even asking, but now it was nowhere to be found. The emptiness sank heavy in her chest.
She thought about calling her mom, but it felt too embarrassing. ‘What if she thinks I can’t live without her? She might come back even stricter.’ After turning it over in her mind, Irene placed her hopes on her dad instead.
“Dad, can you call Mom and ask her to come make oatmeal for me?” she begged. ‘Mom listens to Dad the most. If he asks, she’ll definitely come home.’
“Call her yourself,” Ernest said, already heading up the stairs. He didn’t even glance back, his voice drifting down dismissively as his footsteps faded around the landing.
Irene pouted, still craving her mom’s oatmeal. When her eyes landed on Betty, who was tidying up nearby, a sudden idea came to her. She hurried over to Betty and said, “Betty, call Mom and tell her Dad wants her to come home and cook.”
Irene stood on her tiptoes, trying to look demanding. Betty’s hands trembled by her apron. The little girl’s fluffy curls were tucked behind a strawberry clip, her bright eyes glistened like morning dew, and her long lashes brushed her pink cheeks. Anyone who saw her would think she was as cute as a button.
But with her hands on her hips and that bossy little voice, all that cuteness was gone. “Betty, are you deaf?” She stamped her foot, making the pearls on her princess dress shake. “If you don’t call her, I’ll tell Dad to fire you!” she said, her tone as entitled as ever.
Betty sighed softly under her breath. After a moment’s hesitation, she finally pulled out her phone, tapped the screen a few times, and brought it to her ear, waiting for Stella to answer the call.
Stella was reviewing the design work from the company’s recent projects, which Jeremy had just sent over. When her phone rang, she was a little surprised to see Betty’s name on the screen.
“Mrs. Lloyd,” Betty’s voice came through hesitantly. “Miss Irene has been asking for your oatmeal. Would you be able to come back and make it for her?”