“Why are you back?” He frowned, his tone filled with annoyance.
I looked at him, pointing to the nearly invisible number “4” on my wrist.
“Jason, if you don’t love me anymore, I’m going to die.”
He reacted as though he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world.
“Rachel, we’ve been married for three years. Other than using these pathetic excuses to get my attention, what else can you do?”
His words were like a bucket of ice water poured from head to toe.
My gaze fell on the jacket he had tossed carelessly on the bed.
From its pocket stuck out a jewelry store receipt—an expensive diamond necklace.
It wasn’t for me.
My birthday had already passed a month ago.
I pointed at the receipt, my voice trembling.
“What’s this?”
Jason glanced at it and shoved it back into his pocket.
“A client gift.”
Then, without another look at me, he got up.
“I’m going to the office.”
The door slammed shut with a deafening bang.
The number “4” on my wrist flashed violently and dropped to “3.”
A stabbing, bone-deep pain consumed me. My vision went black, and I lost all consciousness.
When I woke again, it was to the sound of commotion.
Margaret Miller, my mother-in-law, stood in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips, barking orders at the servants.
“Do everything properly! Emily is coming for dinner tonight. If anything goes wrong, you’re all fired!”
She turned and saw me awake, her face immediately twisting into disdain.
“What a jinx. Of all times to wake up, you had to do it before Emily’s arrival. How unlucky!”
I clutched the sofa to stand, my body unbearably weak.
“Mom, why is Emily… coming here?”
Margaret rolled her eyes.
“Emily is Jason’s childhood sweetheart. She came back from overseas—what’s wrong with having her for dinner? Unlike you, clinging to the title of Mrs. Miller yet failing to give us a single child. And you dare ask?”
Her sharp, cruel words—I had endured them for three years.
I glanced down at my wrist. The number “3” had faded even further.
I knew I was running out of time.
The doorbell rang. Margaret instantly beamed and rushed to open it.
Emily stood there in a pure white dress, sweet and innocent. Around her neck gleamed the diamond necklace from the receipt I’d seen yesterday.
“Auntie, I’m here,” she greeted brightly.
“Oh, my darling Emily, come in, come in!” Margaret cooed, pulling her inside.
Emily’s eyes met mine, a flicker of smugness and provocation glinting within them.