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Only After I Was Gone Novel Cover

Only After I Was Gone

Shirley Jones is sidelined by her family in favor of Melissa, an heiress faking amnesia. While Shirley loses her unborn child because her husband, Charles Smith, ignores her calls to attend to Melissa, she discovers the memory loss was a coordinated lie. Exhausted by years of professional rejection and personal neglect, Shirley stops seeking their approval. She decides to abandon her toxic life and return to her adoptive parents in Nebula City, finally giving her family the absence they always treated her with.
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Chapter 2

The cab could only take me as far as the security gate. From there, it was still another mile up to the villa at the top of the hill.

A car sped past me, and I recognized the license plate instantly. The window rolled down just a little. Melissa was sitting in the passenger seat of my husband's car.

Charles did not even see me.

By the time I reached the front yard, I was soaked through. Charles was standing outside, handling a work call. When his eyes met mine, he said into the phone, "Have the proposal ready and send it to me tomorrow."

Then, he turned, took off his suit jacket, and moved to drape it over my shoulders. "Why didn't you bring an umbrella?"

His tone grew sharper. "Shirley, you're not a three-year-old. Melissa came to visit Grandpa today. You should head back first."

Wherever Melissa appeared, I had to disappear—like I was something that belonged in the shadows, never meant to be seen.

As soon as Charles stepped closer, his brows knitted together. "Are you wearing perfume?"

However, Melissa and I had just been in the same store. Of course, we would carry the same scent. He could tolerate Melissa sitting right beside him, yet the moment I got close, he looked at me with disgust.

His rules only existed for me. When it came to her, there were always exceptions.

The drizzle kept falling, thin and endless. Under the dim streetlights, it looked like countless tiny needles. When they hit my skin, all I felt was a steady, stinging pain.

I knew every one of Charles' coat pockets carried allergy medicine. He always said it was just to be prepared. In truth, it was preparation for seeing Melissa.

Out of habit, I reached into his pocket, took out the pills, and handed them to him. "Just take the medicine."

If he could change his rules for someone else, why couldn't he do the same for me?

Charles looked down at me from above. "Shirley, don't make things difficult for me." His tone was calm, like he was speaking to a client.

My hand, frozen in midair, slowly lowered. Along with it, all the feelings and courage I had given him over the years quietly pulled back too.

As I walked past him, I left him with a promise. "Don't worry. I won't reveal anything about our relationship."

"I'm here to see Grandpa. I'll only stay for half an hour."

Charles froze for a moment, clearly unaccustomed to that version of me. I had never been that obedient before.

In the past, it would take him several rounds of coaxing before I would give in. Sometimes, he even had to write me daily apologies just to get me to come home.

At the dinner table, Melissa was animatedly sharing stories about her childhood with Charles. Even her usually serious brother, Maverick Jones, watched her with a warm smile.

I remembered when I had first returned to the Jones family. I had tried to share my own stories at the table, just like this. All I got in return was an icy reminder, "Mind your manners at the table."

It turned out the problem was not what I said. It was that they had never wanted to hear me in the first place.

When Maverick saw me, he tensed immediately.

Catching his reaction, Melissa asked with a hint of mischief, "Do you know my brother?"

Before he could deny it, I smiled and said, "No."

I said it so calmly, so naturally, as if we were truly strangers.

For the past six months, Maverick had repeatedly warned me. In front of Melissa, we had no sibling relationship.

Now that I was doing exactly that, he should have been satisfied. Yet, the phone in his hand suddenly slipped and fell to the floor. Someone called his name a few times, but he did not respond. He looked completely distracted.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?"

Maverick forced himself to stay composed. "Nothing. Just thinking about work."

Melissa had one hand looped through each of them, but her gaze landed on me. "Oh right, I'm going to Nebula City next week for a perfume competition. You all have to come cheer me on."

They all agreed without hesitation.

The family doctor was upstairs giving Nevin a checkup.

Even though Maverick and the others had arrived earlier, they could only wait quietly.

However, the butler, Lance Cobb, came straight to me. "Mr. Smith is waiting for you in the study."

I handed him the gift. "Got it. Thank you, Mr. Cobb."

The back of my hand was bruised, and it was spreading. They were the marks from days of IV treatments.

Charles' chest rose and fell noticeably.

As I stepped onto the stairs, I heard Melissa's dissatisfied voice behind me. "She seems important. Charles, do you know her?"

Charles kept his eyes on me, watching for any reaction. "Why would I know her?"

I had lost count of how many times he had denied our relationship in front of others.

I did not turn back. I had already expected his answer.

Nevin had set up the chessboard and was waiting for me. I sat down across from him and moved a piece forward. "Grandpa, I'm here to pick up the agreement."

There was a signed divorce agreement with him. All it needed was my final signature, and it would take effect immediately. I would even receive seventy percent of the assets under Charles' name.

Back then, he had prepared it as proof of his love, as a promise to protect me.

Something I once did not care about had then become the only thing keeping me afloat.

Nevin paused slightly, his hand hovering over a chess piece. "Have you thought it through?"

"Yes.

"I'll be returning to Nebula City next week."

He nodded. "I heard they're holding a big perfume design competition there. If you like, go have some fun.

"In the end, the Smith family owes you."

When the butler handed me the divorce papers, my pieces on the board were already trapped with no way out.

I let out a small laugh. "Grandpa, I lost."

Not just this game. I had lost my marriage to Charles completely.

When I pushed open the door, I saw Charles standing right outside the study.

For a moment, I froze.

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