When Love Becomes a Cage (Melanie)

"No need. This outfit will do. I'm busy." I quickly shook my head, truly not wanting to return to that so-called home.

The mere thought of Kayla rummaging through my closet and picking out my dresses and jewelry made my skin crawl. Indeed, no matter how expensive things were, once they were tainted, they became utterly repulsive.

He gave me a once-over before we headed downstairs, probably thinking my getup was passable.

Plenty of colleagues threw glances my way. I knew what they were thinking. They probably figured I'd pulled some trick to get Clyde to be seen with me again.

Kayla was conspicuously absent from her usual antics. I remembered she was flaunting a new watch today, and it all made sense. She'd always been selfish, ready to step back if it benefited her, something she was better at than me.

Oops, it was a nice watch, a Blue Balloon. It was worth over ten thousand.

After arriving at the Patterson Mansion, Merritt was more pissed than I'd anticipated, giving Clyde a piece of his mind right before me.

In the Patterson family, I was still considered reliable. Despite Clyde's roaming eye over the past months, I'd remained a dutiful Mrs. Patterson. So, when trouble brewed, Merritt didn't even question me, pinning it all on Clyde.

Finally, Merritt's gaze settled on me. "Next week, at the Patterson Group's anniversary gala, I want you and Clyde to be there. Make sure you dress to impress."

I stared at him, baffled. The inte was buzzing with rumors of our divorce. Yet, he was so composed.

But then, Merritt clarified. "When Clyde married you, the press was favorable, and the Patterson Group maintained a positive image. We can't let that image get tarnished. Every marriage within the Patterson family matters greatly. You have to remain accountable to the family legacy. Do you understand?"

Neither Clyde nor I responded, but we knew Merritt was right.

Supporting Clyde to this point hadn't been easy for him. A scandal could devastate Clyde's reputation, making Merritt the first casualty.

"Are you listening? Do you understand?" Merritt's voice rose, his cane thumping against the floor for emphasis.

In unison, we responded, "We understand."

With a few more instructions, Merritt finally let us go.

On the way back, I was conflicted. Those events usually saw me as nothing more than a backdrop. Last time, he had brazenly taken a model to the gala, completely sidelining me.

This time...

I turned to look at him, and he was already looking back.

"What's on your mind?" He said with irritation, but I shook my head and looked away.

There was nothing left to say to him. Attending the gala would be my way of repaying Merritt for his kindness over the years.

He seemed displeased with my silence, scoffing, "Just don't cause a scene at the gala. Behave as Mrs. Patterson should."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry. As long as your precious Kayla stays in line, there won't be any issues."

I could easily play the part of a

backdrop but Kayla wouldn't settle

for being an accessory. I didn't

forget the look in her eyes when she took the divorce papers at the police station.

"Kayla isn't as troublesome as you think. She's quite pure-minded." Clyde looked at me disapprovingly clearly not fond of me tainting his lover. "Do you really think everyone's as calculating and money-hungry as you? Why didn't you bring up the divorce before Grandpa?

Suddenly, Clyde wasn't the aloof CEO anymore, his nagging more annoying than a buzzing fly.

I smacked the back of the seat. "Stop the car."

The driver braked instinctively, and I got out. After a few steps, I took the divorce papers from my bag and tossed them into the back seat. "Clyde, if you want a divorce, sign."

I hailed another cab, but Clyde beat me to it, closing the door first.

"What are you doing?" I was shocked.

When I chased him, he ignored me. Now that I was ready to leave, he had been clinging on for dear life.This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

He hesitated, then said, "Come home with me."

I rejected it without hesitation. "No, I'll stay at Jade's."

Clyde pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, tossing it into the cab before waving the driver off.

The driver drove away.

I snapped. "Clyde!"

"Melanie! Do you want a divorce? Why won't you come home? You left your jewelry on the coffee table. What's that about?" He glared at me as if I'd committed a crime.

I said, "I find it disgusting after someone else has touched it."

I used his moment of shock to my advantage, quickly hailed the next cab, and urged the driver, "Please hurry. My ex won't leave me alone."

Seeing Clyde approach, the driver

sped off, teaving him behind. The

driver, a warm-hearted lady, gave me

a pep talk and advised me on

preserving evidence in case of

domestic abuse.

Looking at my reflection in the window, I did look like a victim of long-term abuse.

After thanking the driver and insisting on paying, I stepped out with a lighter heart despite her refusal. The world still had its share of good people.

I thought, 'See, Clyde? Even strangers are telling me not to look back. I don't want to look back anymore.'