Leaving the Past in Flames

When Christopher heard the mockery in my tone, he hurriedly tried to explain himself.

"Why don't you get it, Rosie? I've told you this many times—this marriage with Hannah is only temporary. I can't call the shots on this collaboration between my family and hers. Besides, Hannah has made it clear that she's willing to accept you."

Hannah stepped forward and looked at me somewhat arrogantly.

"Chris is right. You might not realize this, Ms. Fisher, but I've seen plenty of people like you in our circle. As long as you don't cause too much trouble, I won't get my parents involved.

"I can also put in a good word or two for you with the Shaw family. I should say there really is a disparity between those who carry the Gray surname and those who only carry the Fisher surname."

She was obviously insulting me. I picked up a glass of water from the coffee table and splashed it at her and Christopher. She screamed, and he hurriedly grabbed some tissues to wipe the water off her face.

Then, he snapped, "Have you lost your mind, Rosalie?"

"You two are the insane ones, if you ask me!" I looked at them icily and curled my lips. "Are you deaf or just stupid, Ms. Green? Christopher and I dated for seven years—why would I need you to tolerate and accommodate my presence?

"You might want to put on a show before me, but did you bother asking whether I wanted to watch it? Get the hell out of my apartment right now!"

Hannah lunged at me, seemingly infuriated by my words.

"What gives you the right to act so smugly, Rosalie? Your mother has bowed and scraped her way through life at the Gray residence for decades, yet she doesn't even have a marriage certificate to show for it.

"Now, your father is marrying Lori—that makes your mother nothing but a mistress! Like mother, like daughter.

"You're destined to be a mistress and homewrecker too! If not for Christopher speaking up for you, you wouldn't even deserve to step foot in the Shaw residence! You—"

I slapped her with all my might before she could finish. In the next second, Christopher shoved me aside, making me ram against the table. I cupped my wounded forehead as my head spun.

"Don't take this too far, Rosalie!" he snapped at me while holding Hannah, looking his heart ached for her.

"Have you yet to accept reality? Once Oscar marries Lori, you and your mother will become nothing more than a mistress and an illegitimate daughter.

"It would be a disgrace to have someone like you as a lover, but Han was generous enough to tolerate your existence, seeing as you and I have been together for so long. Don't blame me for getting nasty if you continue acting like this!"

"You'll get nasty, huh?" I chuckled and got to my feet. Then, I grabbed the glass from earlier and smashed it on his head. Blood trickled down his face as the glass shattered.

Hannah let out a piercing shriek before clamoring about calling the police. However, she shut up when I gave her a sharp look.

"You brought someone to my apartment without my permission, Christopher. This is private property, so I should be the one calling the cops.

"Also, I don't need her generosity. I'll just act like I wasted the past seven years of my life on a piece of trash!" I snarled.

Christopher's head was spinning from my attack, but he wanted to keep the tough act going.

Before leaving, he growled, "You're wrong if you think you're worthy of becoming my wife, Rosalie. I can't wait for the day that you come running and begging!"

As soon as the door slammed shut, I fell to the floor again. Tears streamed down my face.

Christopher and I had known each other since childhood, and we'd dated for the past seven years.

He'd remembered all my likes and dislikes, and he'd never missed an anniversary. He would also show up whenever I needed him.

I thought I'd met someone I could spend the rest of my life with—I'd imagined what life would be like after marrying him.

He knew I hated mistresses and homewreckers, yet he'd tried to force me to give in to him by using that as an excuse. His behavior had turned everything we'd been through together into a joke.

Once upon a time, he'd told me I was exactly who he wanted and that nothing else mattered to him. Yet now, he was telling me to reflect on whether I deserved to be his wife.

At that thought, I got to my feet again and looked around the apartment. Everything in it, from the photo frames to stuffed toys, were items that Christopher and I had picked out together.

He'd told me that he wanted to decorate this place like it was our home. He'd asked me countless times about the things I liked and bought them one by one.

"Rosie, no matter how angry you get at me in the future, you have to give me another chance, alright? Do it for the sake of my sincerity in decorating this apartment." That was what Christopher had once jokingly told me while holding me in his arms.

However, I'd said seriously, "It depends on what you've done to upset me. I won't forgive you for life if you do or say anything related to what I hate the most."

He'd held me tighter and said confidently, "No way in hell will I do anything related to that. I'll jump into the sea where we made things official to repent for my sins if it happens! Then, you can set me on fire and discard my ashes wherever you want!"

My heart twisted painfully as I thought about the past. Then, I grabbed my phone and made a call. "Yes, I want to sell this apartment. The faster, the better."