I Stopped Loving Him

"Julie." Rachel's voice pulled me back to the present. "We're here."

I turned my head and saw the familiar estate. A dozen emotions hit me at once.

Ever since they threw me out at 13, I had not returned in 12 years.

When I walked in, my father sat on the living room sofa. The moment he saw me, his expression changed. "You've lost weight."

I nodded. I had no interest in small talk. "You were so mysterious on the phone. Can you tell me about my mother's things now?"

"No rush. Go sleep off the jet lag first," he said.

I was exhausted enough that I did not argue. I followed the housekeeper to a guest room.

When I woke, it was already noon the next day.

I headed downstairs for something to eat, but the moment I reached the landing, I heard laughter spilling from the living room.

"Things moved fast, but every proper step will still be followed. Jessie will not be slighted."

It was Christian's mother.

Smiling, she slid a bracelet onto Jessica's wrist, the kind the Fairmont family gave its daughters-in-law.

Jessica looked down at it, delighted and shy at once. She lifted her hand to show Christian, but he only gave it a bland glance.

I looked across the room. The Winslows and Fairmonts sat together on the sofas.

I was about to circle around and head for the kitchen when Jessica called out to me, "Julie, you're awake. We're talking about the wedding. Do you want to listen too? Actually, I still need a bridesmaid. Why don't you help me out?"

I stopped.

I turned and looked at her. The hand with the bracelet remained raised, as if she were afraid I might miss it.

Christian sat beside her. His face looked as cold as ever, yet I still had the strange feeling he was waiting for my answer.

I looked away and spoke evenly. "I'm married. I have a child. I can't be your bridesmaid."

Christian's eyes snapped up to me.

The room froze for a few seconds.

Then Jessica laughed. "Julie, even if you don't want to be my bridesmaid, you don't have to lie like that. If you were really married with a child, why didn't your husband and child come back with you?"

My father, Robert Winslow, finally came out of his daze. "You can lie about marriage and children so casually now? These years abroad have taught you fewer and fewer manners."

"I'm not lying. They will be back in a few days." I took out my phone, planning to pull up photos of Virgil and Anna.

Before I could, Christian let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Juliana, play your part long enough and you might actually fool yourself."

Then he stood and strode out.

Jessica gave me a strange look and hurried after him.

Everyone in the room followed them with their eyes. No one paid attention to me again.

It was fine by me. I put my phone away without opening the album and went to the kitchen to get something to eat.

There was a 16-hour time difference between Sothoris and Goldridge. I drifted through the afternoon with nothing to do. Around 2:00 a.m., I finally finished a video call with Virgil. After that, I fell into a deep sleep.

I woke to a burst of noise.

When I got up to check, I found Christian and Jessica in the garden, taking photos.

The photographer directed them. Christian wrapped his arms around Jessica from behind and rested his chin on her head. Smiling, she turned and kissed his cheek.

The housekeeper noticed where I was looking and stepped over to explain. "Mr. Fairmont suggested taking the photos here at the house. He said Miss Jessica grew up here, so it would be more meaningful."

I nodded without much reaction.

They were making too much noise for me to get back to sleep, so I found a place to sit and opened a book instead.

I asked my father about my mother's belongings several more times after that. He still would not tell me anything directly. He only sighed and asked, "Julie, if I tell you now, will you move out of the house right away?"

I would. After all, this had stopped being my home a long time ago.

My father knew me well enough. That was why he refused to tell me anything. As long as he kept quiet, I had no choice but to stay in the Winslow residence.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Christian and Jessica change locations again and again.

Maybe I imagined it, but in a villa this large, they always seemed to be shooting right in front of me.

I did not care. I kept reading.

Not far away, the photographer called out, "Mr. Fairmont, watch your expressions. Don't look so grim. Smile a little..."

A moment later, another direction followed. "Mr. Fairmont, keep your eyes on Miss Jessica's face. Don't look elsewhere."

I glanced up without thinking, and my eyes met Christian's.

He looked away at once, his face turning cool again. His fingers pressed lightly against the back of Jessica's hand. "Jessie, let's take ten."

Jessica pressed her lips together. She did not speak, but when she looked at me again, her eyes flashed with pure venom.

I had no idea what her problem was.

After a moment, I decided to head back to my room.

As I passed their shooting area, Jessica chose her moment and kicked one of the octagonal fill lights.

The metal stand scraped across the ground with a sharp screech, then tipped straight toward us both.