I circled the villa several times before finally daring to go inside. When the old clock in the living room struck twelve, Avery stumbled in, reeking of alcohol.
As soon as she saw me, she threw herself into my arms, whining, “Dennis, I’m so exhausted today. Can you make me some hangover soup? Love you.”
The overwhelming scent of men's cologne on her made me feel nauseous. I pushed her off me and said, “I’m a bit tired too. I don’t feel like moving.”
Hearing this, Avery shot up from the couch like a spring. She raised her hand and slapped me hard across the left cheek, then pointed at me and screamed, her voice cracking, “Dennis, what’s your problem? Didn’t I already message you and explain everything? I told you not to let something this minor make you lose face! What’s with your attitude now?”
I pulled up the message Avery had sent me hours ago and held it in front of her. “Avery, is this what you call an explanation...?”
Before I could finish, she slapped the phone out of my hand, her emotions flaring even more intensely.
“Dennis, wasn’t focusing on the career first something we decided together? Do I really need to explain how marketable the ‘perfect housewife’ image is right now? My marriage to Bryan is just for publicity, for the sake of my career! And you—being this petty—do you even count as a man? You’re disgusting!”
After saying her piece, Avery slammed the door and stormed out.
I got up and looked at my swollen left cheek in the mirror, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
Eight years of love, and even a fake marriage for publicity couldn’t be mine. I raised my hand and slapped my right cheek hard, a blow to remind myself—never again to be such a spineless fool chasing after someone who didn’t care.
After washing up, I had barely lain down on the bed when I received a message from my mother:
[Denny, I was so happy today that I forgot to tell you something. Over the years, we’ve spent quite a lot supporting that little actress by your side. Next month, we were supposed to invest in a show for her. Now that you’re no longer involved, should the company still go ahead with it?]
I stared at the empty villa for a moment before replying: [Wait for my decision.]
With only a few days left, I didn’t want to create any more complications. After listening to my mother ramble on about wedding details, I drifted off into a deep sleep.