The Fifth Candle

Julian never came home that night.

By the next morning, headlines had spread across all of Cascade City.

[The Wife Loses Again—Carter Heir Parties Across the City with Mystery Beauty on His Birthday.]

In every entertainment reporter's photo, Julian had one arm protectively wrapped around the woman in his embrace. Everyone around them was laughing, looking relaxed and carefree.

Without an expression, I picked up the remote and changed the channel.

Apparently, though, they still had not had enough fun. Not long after, Julian came home with a noisy crowd trailing behind him. The moment they saw me, someone paused in surprise before slipping into his usual slick tone.

"Oh, you're here too? Then we'll have to trouble you to make us something to eat."

Another chimed in immediately, "Laura, I've been craving your cream of mushroom soup. Make a big pot, okay?"

They kept saying please and sorry for the trouble, but ordering me around came as naturally as breathing.

I looked at them quietly. Julian's friends had always treated me with casual disrespect. The cream of mushroom soup they were talking about was something I had made for Julian.

I knew he spent most of his time attending business dinners and drinking at social events. His stomach was not in great shape, so I carefully spent hours making the soup just for him.

However, he did not even take a single sip of it. His friends, on the other hand, finished every last drop.

While eating, they grinned and said, "Don't mind us, Laura. Julian didn't want it, so he told us to have it."

Back then, all I could do was force a smile and tell them I was glad they enjoyed it. In the past, I worked hard to fit into Julian's world. I kept hoping that one day, his friends and family would finally accept me.

However, now? I did not want their approval anymore.

I stood up. "If you want soup, make it yourselves. Or call the housekeeper."

I glanced at them calmly. "I'm not your maid."

I did not even care enough to see their reactions.

The sharp crash of shattering porcelain broke the silence. Instinctively, I turned around. Elaine Carter stood frozen before a pile of broken ceramic pieces, her eyes already red.

"Laura, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just thought it was beautiful, and I accidentally dropped it."

Before I could say anything, everyone else jumped in.

"Come on, Laura. Elaine didn't do it on purpose. Stop looking so upset."

"Seriously, are you going to hold a grudge against a young woman over something this small? Laura, you're being way too petty."

Julian was holding Elaine's hand, carefully checking for injuries. Only after confirming she was not hurt did he finally look at me. His voice was icy. "You always assume the worst when it comes to Elaine. She's already apologized, and you..."

I tilted my head. "Did I say I wouldn't forgive her?" I looked around at all of them. "Why are you acting like I'm bullying her? Like you said, it's just a broken vase. No big deal. Sweep up the trash and throw it out."

Even if that vase had been one of the very few gifts Julian had ever given me. It was a piece I had dreamed of owning for years, created by my favorite ceramic artist.

Julian had gone through a lot of trouble to track it down, asking countless people for help before finally finding it. The day he gave it to me, he looked as careless as ever. "Here. Take it. Now, stop talking about it every day."

His expression had been indifferent.

Mine had not.

I had been so happy that I had practically launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around him before planting a light kiss on his cheek. "Julian, thank you. I love it."

He had not dodged me, and he had not pushed me away either. He even let out a brief laugh.

That was how Julian always was. Whenever I was on the verge of giving up, he would hand me the tiniest bit of hope. It was just enough to make me believe that maybe, just maybe, he liked me a little. He made me think that if I kept trying a little longer, things might change.

Back then, I treasured that vase more than anything. I dusted it personally every day and displayed it in the most visible spot in the house.

Now, I simply said, "Maybe it's better that it broke. I don't like it anymore anyway."

Julian stared at me. A deep crease formed between his brows. Then, he nodded. Without warning, he reached over, grabbed the matching vase, and slammed it onto the floor. The crash echoed through the room.

Elaine let out a startled scream.

Julian withdrew his hand and said coldly, "If you don't like it anymore, then good. We might as well get rid of both."