He Chose His Secretary Over Me While I Was Dying in Childbirthe

Ferris's late sister used to have a nightgown just like it.

Except Lydia's version had considerably less fabric.

She leaned forward slightly, the neckline gaping wide, leaving nothing to the imagination.

I looked at the way she trembled, then at Ferris's hand patting her back, and felt something close to a laugh rise in my throat.

I turned and went back to my room.

Whatever.

I'd be gone soon enough anyway.

The next morning, Ferris drove Lydia to the office ahead of me.

I took my medication and biked there on my own.

The moment I reached the entrance, I could hear the commotion inside.

I had barely sat down when Ferris stormed up to me,

“The Fairview project. What the hell did you do? There's a massive screw-up, and the company just lost five million dollars!”

I froze.

“That project was handed over to Lydia a long time ago……”

Lydia's voice cut in from behind him,

“Ms. Lambert, you made the mistake yourself. Why are you trying to pin it on me?”

She stood behind Ferris, eyes rimmed red, like she'd just been crying.

Ferris announced in front of everyone that my entire year's salary would be docked, along with every year-end bonus for my team.

The looks around me shifted instantly, filling with resentment and bitterness.

That evening, when I got home, Ferris and Lydia were already at the dining table.

The two of them were chatting and laughing.

I had no appetite. I walked straight for the stairs.

Ferris's voice came from behind me,

“About today. Don't take it to heart.”

I stopped and turned to look at him.

He went on,

“Lydia's the one who made the mistake, but if someone else yelled at her, she wouldn't be able to handle it.”

I thought I'd heard him wrong.

“So you think I'm the one who deserves to be yelled at?”

Ferris frowned, his tone matter-of-fact,

“You've been here for years. You've been chewed out plenty of times before. Don't be so petty about it.”

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms.

Right then, a dull thud came from the dining table.

Lydia had both hands clamped around her own throat, eyes rolling back, white foam spilling from her mouth.

The next second, she pitched off the chair and hit the floor hard.

In the hospital room, Lydia lay in bed, her face drained of color.

The doctor said it was food poisoning.

She opened her eyes slowly, the rims swollen and red,

“Ms. Lambert, why would you do this? I'm not trying to steal Mr. Farley from you……”

“That night when the thunder came, I saw you standing on the stairs. Do you hate me now?”

She grabbed my sleeve, tears sliding down her cheeks,

“I'm just an orphan with nobody in this world. How could I possibly dare to steal your husband? Ms. Lambert, please, just let me go. I'm begging you.”

Ferris stood beside the bed, his expression darkening by the second.

But my eyes had landed on the bouquet of roses on her nightstand.

Red enough to sting.

My heart seized. So Ferris wasn't allergic to flowers after all. He just didn't like the ones I bought.

Ferris spoke, “You're the one in charge of grocery shopping at home.”

My head snapped toward him, and something inside my chest split open.

It wasn't a question. It was a verdict.

He stared at me, cold and unyielding,

“You've always known your place. What made you pull something this thoughtless?!”

Lydia tugged at the hem of Ferris's sleeve,

“Mr. Farley, Ms. Lambert must have just had a lapse in judgment. It's my fault, really. That night when the thunder started, it brought back memories of being bullied, and I couldn't control how scared I was. Don't blame her. If you have to blame someone, blame me.”

Ferris stepped in front of Lydia, shielding her.

I looked at the way he stood there, and everything suddenly felt absurd.

I looked at Lydia's tear-streaked face, delicate as a rain-soaked flower, and spoke calmly,