The peal of the doorbell reverberated insistently, causing Flora to startle.
She walked over to open the door, completely forgetting her usual habit of peeping through the cat's eye to see who it was.
Standing outside was Selena.
Flora slightly furrowed her brows, ready to firmly close the door.
After their last encounter, she thought she and this Young Mistress White had become irreconcilable foes; it was best if they avoided each other.
Yet unexpectedly, Selena was one step ahead, her hand preventing the door from shutting.
She offered a faint smile, a weary grin that bore no life on her pallid face.
Her voice was equally wearied: "It's been a while.
I didn't come to cause trouble, there's no need for such vigilance..."
"Young Mistress White, what brings you here?" Flora could tell at a glance that she had intentionally come to see her, choosing a moment when the house was empty.
"I came looking for my husband.
Our child... we lost our child last time, and he was furious, no longer giving me the light of day.
He's been avoiding me like this, it's tearing me apart..." A clear teardrop rolled down from her eye: "So, I came here, hoping to see him..."
She looked now like nothing more than a pitiful wife betrayed by her husband, standing in front of the husband's lover in a brave display of mockery.
She slipped off her loose wedding ring from her pinky finger, grasped Flora's hand, and placed it in her palm.
"This is my wedding ring, could you please return it to him.
Tell him... I now understand that his heart no longer belongs to me.
This ring... whoever he wants it to belong to, it will belong to."
"But... I can't keep it." Flora shook her head; how could she keep another person's wedding ring?
The issue of the marriage between the woman in front of her and Matthew should be dealt with by the parties involved.
As for her, she was only standing by, waiting for Matthew's decision.
Selena was adamant.
She stubbornly pressed the ring into Flora's hand: "For my husband, an heir is incredibly important.
I miscarried, it's understandable that he's angry at me..." she sighed, continuing: "Looking at the current situation, I know that sooner or later, this ring will belong to you."
Flora couldn't discern her own feelings at this moment.
From an emotional standpoint, Selena was her love rival.
But on the other hand, they were both women, connected through a shared suffering.
Unable to offer words of comfort, Flora could only stand rooted as Selena continued to ramble: "You won't understand... Flora, may I call you that? Now that he cherishes and adores you so much, you couldn't possibly understand.
In his eyes, a child is the most important.
Women are merely tools of sexual pleasure.
Just as they say, women are nothing more than child-bearing machines."
"Young Mistress White..."
"You surely know that he married me for the baby in my womb, right? Without that pregnancy, he definitely wouldn't have consented to marriage." Her weak smile no longer holding, she bowed her head: "I'm sorry for the numerous things I've done to harm you.
I hope that you and he... will live happily."
Flora pursed her lips: "I am also to blame, even though the two children... are his, I intruded upon your relationship, it's my fault..."
"So, you don't blame me?" Selena looked up at Flora.
Flora shook her head: "Of course not, I should apologize to you instead."
"Well, that puts me at ease.
He and I will divorce, and I hope you will take care of him afterward..." As Selena turned to leave, she emphasized: "As for whom the ring belongs to, let him decide."
As soon as she was out of Flora's sight, Selena's face lost all trace of the pitiful demeanor she had just portrayed.
A dangerous smile curled up the corners of her lips, her hand retrieving her phone to double-check the address of her next destination.
The apartment where Patrick was staying.
Patrick's reaction to seeing her was not a bit different from Flora's.
He frowned and asked: "Why are you here?" Clearly, they had no connection whatsoever, so why had she come to see him?
"I have something to tell you." Selena peeked inside the house: "Aren't you going to invite me in?"
It would be nothing short of rudeness not to invite a guest inside one's house.
Patrick sidestepped, clearing a path for her to enter.
Selena, without a trace of hesitation, strode right in.
Eyeing the scattered bottles on the floor, she chuckled: "I heard rumors you've been drowning in alcohol because of love, I thought they were nonsensical gossips, turns out they were true."
"Seems like it's none of your business." Patrick gathered the empty bottles and cans, tossing them into a corner: "Have a seat and tell me why you sought me out?"
"Who told you it's not relevant? We both are love-sick.
All these past days, I kept asking myself, why he changed so suddenly... He just swore eternal love to me, then turns around and confesses love to another."
"Isn't it normal to love someone else when he no longer has feelings for you?" Patrick replied nonchalantly.
"No, it's not normal.
I once thought that as long as he was happy, it was fine, but I can't do that... Don't tell me you are willing to watch the one you love happily with someone else." Selena shook her head: "That's impossible, if you were, you wouldn't be here, drowning in alcohol."
Patrick also shook his head: "What's the point of being unwilling? She no longer has a place for me."
"You're mistaken.
Flora still loves you, Matthew still loves me, they're just blinded by fake love... If we work together, awaken them, help them find true love..."
There were times when Selena knew how to persuade, or rather, touch the deepest hidden feelings of others.
Her tone was so sincere that it almost made Patrick believe.
After seeing Selena off, Patrick spent a long time pondering why she sought him out today.
How could the young mistress White change her attitude so drastically overnight.
"Reeng... reeng..." The phone ringing interrupted his train of thought.
He jerked, looking at the unfamiliar number displayed on the screen: "Hello, who is this?"
The voice on the other end was just as unfamiliar: "Hello, is this Flora's phone number?"
"Yes, it is.
I'm sorry, but who are you?" She combed through her memory, unable to recall anyone with that voice.
"I'm the housekeeper who was hired to clean Patrick's house.
But when I arrived, I found the house full of empty bottles, and he was passed out drunk, not moving at all.
I was worried that something might have happened to him, so I called... the most frequently contacted number in his phone book.
Can you come over?"
Her tone was earnest, the reasoning sound.
Flora was a bit worried, asking: "He drank that much?"
"A lot." the other person affirmed: "He reeks of alcohol, and the house is littered with empty bottles."
"Alright, thank you for letting me know, I'll be there right away."
The sunlight seeped through the inadequately closed curtains, illuminating the disarrayed room.
Patrick sat up, his head pounding, body weary and powerless.
The aftermath of the drinking spree left him weak.
Flora handed him a glass of water: "Drink this first.
Why did you drink so much?"
"Flora..." Patrick's hand suddenly clamped onto her wrist.
He choked up: "Flora... I'm sorry... I was wrong.
I thought I could forget you... but I can't... I've been drowning in alcohol every day, just to forget you... But every time I get drunk, close my eyes, your smiling face appears in my mind... I can't forget..."
Flora's eyes welled up with tears.
She silently withdrew her hand from his, shaking her head: "Patrick..." She called his name, only to realize that she didn't know what to say to him.
There were no appropriate words to say between the two in this situation.
She suddenly felt, she shouldn't have come today.
"He is so devoted... Flora, if in this life, I can meet someone who loves me as much as he loves you, I would have no regrets even at death's door." The intimate part-time housemaid, holding Flora's glass, put it on the bedside cabinet, then handed her another glass of water: "You should drink some water first."
Suddenly, Flora sensed something out of the ordinary.
But she could not pinpoint where this feeling was coming from.
She accepted the glass from the girl, took a few sips, then set it down next to the other glass.
"You're still young, so you don't fully understand love yet... Love... it's more complicated than you think... very much so..." Midway through her casual conversation, Flora suddenly felt her head spin and a wave of sleepiness come over her, causing her eyes to start to droop.
The young girl tilted her head, laughing: "Perhaps so... but it seems like you don't really understand love either."
"Aunt Laura, isn't Flora at home?" Matthew glanced around the house, not finding any trace of Flora, he asked Aunt Laura who was bustling about in the kitchen.
Without lifting her head, Aunt Laura replied: "She said a friend was in some trouble, so she hurriedly grabbed her bag and left."
A wave of unease suddenly rose within Matthew: "Did she mention which friend?" He couldn't think of a friend who would prompt Flora to immediately leave the house like this.
"No, she didn't." Aunt Laura tried to recall: "Oh, right, when she was on the phone, I remember she asked, 'Did he drink a lot?' I wonder if you know any of her friends who tend to drink a lot."
"Did he?" A thought flashed in Matthew's mind, the friend who called Flora away could be Patrick.
He grabbed his keys, rushed to the garage, drove to Patrick's apartment, incessantly calling Flora along the way.
But she had switched off her phone, and so had Patrick.
His heart aflame, he raced there as fast as he could, pounded at the door: "Patrick! Come out! Flora, I know you're in there! Come out now!"
The inside was eerily quiet, as if nobody was home.
He gripped the doorknob, twisted it, and to his surprise, the door actually opened.
"The door wasn't locked?"
To his knowledge, Patrick had never been so careless.
Discarding the chaotic thoughts in his head, he tentatively stepped inside.
The living room was very tidy, but there were visible traces of cleaning, as if someone had just tidied up.
There was a pair of familiar women's heels among the men's shoes on the rack.
But the living room was completely empty.
Matthew pursed his lips, silently praying that things were not as he imagined, as he pushed open the bedroom door.
The sudden light caused both people on the bed to open their eyes at the same time.
Matthew stared at the sight that stung his eyes, then decisively turned around and walked straight out.
His heart was like a stone in his chest, the pain was akin to being pierced by a needle, he didn't expect... the truth to be so terrifying.
The person he wholeheartedly trusted was the one capable of inflicting the deadliest wound.
"Matthew..." Flora, reflexively threw off the covers, intending to get out of bed to chase after him and explain, but she was held back by the person behind her.
"Flora, don't go, don't chase after him!" Behind her, Patrick let out a weary sigh: "He's not going to believe we are innocent.
If you chase after him, he might... hurt you..."
Flora turned her head, looking at Patrick with hateful eyes: "Let go of me!"
"Don't do this, I... Flora!" Before he could finish, Flora suddenly clenched her eyes shut and collapsed onto the floor.
He quickly caught her frail body, rushing her to the hospital.