Love Forsaken, Never to Return

Terence hurriedly set down the knife and snatched the ice cream from Pearlie’s hand.

“I’ll just have one bite. Please, Uncle Terry?” Pearlie blinked her wide eyes, clasping her hands together in a pleading gesture.

Terence flashed her a doting smile but still shook his head. “No.”

Pearlie puffed her cheeks and plopped onto the floor, clinging to his leg like a stubborn child. “I just want ice cream! Why won’t you let me have it? You hate me, do you?” she whined, her voice dripping with dramatic insistence.

Eventually, Terence sighed, defeated. “Fine. Just one bite,” he relented, handing the ice cream back to her. She took a small nibble, then he casually finished the rest himself, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

When his eyes met mine, his expression froze for a fleeting second before returning to normal. It was brief, but enough for me to notice the hesitation before he masked it with indifference.

“Terry, my stomach hurts!” Pearlie suddenly complained, cutting through the tension as she pressed a hand to her abdomen. She didn’t even glance at me before demanding, “Help me massage it!”

Terence immediately turned his full attention to her. Scooping her into his arms, he carried her to the sofa. “You little glutton. I told you not to eat cold things. Now look what happened,” he scolded gently, his voice full of affection as his hands rubbed her stomach in soothing circles.

As Pearlie basked in his undivided attention, she threw me a triumphant smirk—the same smug grin she always wore when she managed to outmaneuver me. Her childish tricks never failed to get under my skin.

“I’m hungry. Do you have food?” Pearlie asked, glancing up at him with a pout.

Terence, still focused on her, finally spoke. “Brigitte, go make some food. I’ll keep rubbing Pearl’s stomach.”

His words hit me like a slap. After all these years together, this was the first time he addressed me directly—and it was to ask me to cook for her.

“Ask Imogene to do it. I’m tired,” I replied coolly, heading toward the bedroom.

Apparently, that was the wrong answer. His face darkened and he slammed his palm against the table, sending a cup flying to the floor with a loud crash.

“You vanish for two days and come back with a sour face. I ask you to make some food and you act like I told you to move a mountain. What’s your deal?” His glare cut right through me.

“You disappeared for two days and suddenly appeared with a scowling face. I asked you to make a meal and all you did was act like I asked you to build a skyscraper. What's wrong with you?” His glare pierced through me. “Pearl isn’t feeling well, why can’t you see that?” Pearlie chimed in, her voice soft and trembling. “It’s okay, Terry. Looks like Bridgitte doesn’t want me here, maybe I should just leave…”

Pearlie chimed in, her voice soft and trembling. “It’s okay, Terry. Looks like Brigitte doesn’t want me here. Maybe I should just leave…”

“No, you’re not going anywhere,” Terence reassured her firmly. “I don’t care what she thinks. You’re not feeling well and who’s going to take care of you if you leave, silly girl?”

Watching the two of them, so wrapped up in their little world, I didn’t bother arguing. Instead, I retreated to my room, shutting the door behind me.

I used to fight back, accusing Terence of having an unhealthy relationship with Pearlie. But every time, he dismissed me, saying my thoughts were twisted and dirty. Our arguments always ended in tears and frustration, leaving me drained and hopeless.

Desperate, I once suggested we get married, thinking it would force Pearlie to back off. Yet Terence always had an excuse. “Not the right time,” he’d say.

When I finally gave him an ultimatum—either we marry or break up—he reluctantly agreed. But on the day we went to the registry office, he left me standing outside. Pearlie had called him and without hesitation, he rushed to her side, leaving me humiliated in front of strangers.

Friends told me I was a fool, that Terence never intended to marry me. But I stubbornly clung to the hope that things would change, trapping myself in this farce of a relationship.

Not anymore. I’d had enough.

That night, Terence came into the bedroom with a glass of warm milk. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he placed it on the nightstand and leaned in close.

“Is everything okay? Are you upset about what happened earlier?” His voice sounded tired.

“No, I’m just tired,” I said, turning away from him.

“I don’t believe you.” He sighed, slipping an arm around my waist. “Look, Pearl’s just a kid. She’s always been headstrong and even I can’t put too much pressure on her. Don’t be upset because of her, okay?”

Terence softened his tone as he pulled me into a tight hug. My response was silence and I gently pulled away from his embrace. But my coldness didn’t sit well with him. His jaw tightened as he muttered through gritted teeth, “Brigitte, I’m doing this for you. Pearl is here! If she finds out we’re sleeping apart, it’ll reflect badly on you.” His voice was low, probably to avoid waking Pearlie, but the frustration in his words was unmistakable.