Chapter 3
After turning off my phone, I made my way to the study.
I had never doubted Ginger Franklin’s love for me before.
But now, staring at this safe I had never opened, it felt like Pandora’s box.
I tried my birthday, then his, but neither worked.
Finally, I tried another set of numbers and it clicked open–Sophie Mitchell’s birthday.
Inside, the safe was filled with photos of Sophie Mitchell.
On the back of each was a note:
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“Sophie, this lipstick looks beautiful on you. I bought the same one for Nina Davis, but she’ll never be you.”
“Sophie, thank you for using the perfume I gave you. It makes me feel like we’re still connected. I sent a bottle to Nina Davis too, so every night when I close my eyes, it feels like I’m holding you.”
“Sophie, why didn’t you choose me? I’m the one who loves you the most.”
“Sophie..”
Reading these, I felt the blood drain from my body, replaced by a chilling dread that nearly froze me solid.
All this time, Sophie Mitchell had been quietly infiltrating my life without my
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knowledge.
Every time I received the gift Ginger Franklin gave me, I had foolishly thought was a sign of his thoughtfulness and felt moved, never realizing the truth.
I pinched my palm hard to snap out of it.
Pushing aside the photos, I found a dark red gift box at the bottom. Just looking at it made me feel the preciousness of its contents.
When I opened it, I found nothing but wedding photos of Ginger Franklin and Sophie Mitchell–photos where Josh Walton had been cropped out and replaced with Ginger.
Below them was a note: “If in this life we share the same snowfall, does that count as
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growing old together? Sophie, I love you. But if you love him more, I’ll protect you for the rest of my life, matter what.”
What a joke.
Looking at all this, I suddenly found it absurd.
I laughed until my heart ached, until tears streamed uncontrollably down my face.
In the end, I squatted on the floor, gently touching my abdomen, crying until my whole body shook. So his love for Sophie Mitchell meant he could sacrifice my child and my entire life?
I don’t know when I fell asleep.
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When I woke up, Ginger Franklin was in the living room with Sophie Mitchell.
Ginger Franklin, who had never cooked at home, was bustling around the kitchen, preparing lunch.
Seeing me, he awkwardly explained, “Josh Walton is a bit busy these days. Sophie isn’t feeling well, and I thought it would be good to bring her here to recover for a few days.”
I sat down in silence.
Ginger Franklin’s hands were precious, especially since his job was so demanding.
He was the type who rarely did anything around the house. N
ow, because of Sophie Mitchell, I was eating food he had cooked.
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Sophie Mitchell pouted listlessly, complaining the she had no appetite.
Ginger Franklin, spoon in hand, coaxed her to
eat.
Unlike his usual silence and distant
politeness with me, he was now almost groveling, trying to get Sophie Mitchell to
eat.
Sensing my gaze, he turned and gave an awkward smile, then placed a large shrimp on my plate.
I looked up.
Sophie Mitchell was insisting on having mangoes, and Ginger Franklin, like a doting parent, reminded her of the last time she ate too many and got sick.
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I quietly threw the shrimp into the trash.
I remembered the first time I had an allergic reaction to shrimp. He had cried, clutching my hand, saying it was all his fault and that he would never forget it.
Now, he was still attentive, but his attention was no longer directed at me.
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