The Pillow That Ended Our Twelve-Year Engagement Chapter 2

"The cat has been crying. She must be hungry. Giselle mentioned she likes steamed salmon. Could you prepare some for her?"

After twelve years, his tone when speaking to me had become as casual as if he were instructing a maid. Before I could even open my mouth to respond, he stepped into the study and shut the door behind him.

I went back to packing my things. My company had granted me a three-day transition period to hand over my projects. In three days, I would be leaving this city, and the man I had loved for over a decade, far behind.

Passing by the study, I heard Stefan's voice coming through the thin door. He was on a video call, and Giselle's bright laughter echoed in the quiet hallway.

"Elena has been with me for twelve years," Stefan was saying, a trace of smug confidence in his voice. "She's always been submissive. She won't make a scene. Just focus on enjoying the trip with me."

I stood frozen in the hallway, my heart turning completely cold.

From the age of eighteen to thirty, my entire world had revolved around him. I had always been the understanding, sensible girlfriend his friends praised. Even when we fought over Giselle, I kept our arguments private, preserving his dignity in front of others.

But my silence had only become his license to walk all over me.

I let out a quiet breath. I would never be submissive again, Stefan.

While gathering my belongings, I noticed that one of my handmade herbal sleep pillows was missing.

My job carried an immense amount of pressure, and my sleep quality had always been poor. To help me sleep, my grandmother had traveled to a distant town to find an old herbalist who specialized in hand-stuffed sleep pillows, bringing back two of them for me. On her journey back, she was tragically killed in a highway accident.

Since that day, those pillows had become my most cherished keepsakes of her.

Stefan walked out of the study, grabbing his keys to head out.

I called out to him. "Have you seen my other sleep pillow?"

He paused, thinking for a second. "Check the guest room where Giselle stays. If it isn't there, she must have taken it to her apartment."

We had lived in this two-bedroom apartment for seven years. Initially, we rented it, but we eventually bought it from the landlord. I had always thought a one-bedroom place would be perfect for us, but he had insisted on a two-bedroom unit, claiming we needed space for occasional guests.

Yet, in all these years, he had never allowed any of his friends to stay over, even when they were too drunk to drive. He always insisted on booking them a hotel room.

The only person who had ever stayed in that guest room was Giselle.

Every time she drank too much, he would bring her back here. When I suggested booking her a room or taking her home, he always argued that it wasn't safe for a single woman to stay in a hotel alone.

He knew how much it hurt me, but he continued to let her sleep in our home, often making the decision without consulting me first. Later, because of my protests, he even installed security cameras in the common areas, claiming the footage would prove their absolute innocence.

Over the years, that guest room had slowly filled with her personal belongings, lipsticks, socks, jewelry, and even delicate undergarments.

In the past, I would have thrown a furious tantrum over these things. Today, I simply walked into the guest room, saw that the pillow wasn't there, and quietly walked out.

Without a word, I took my car keys and drove straight to Giselle's apartment.

Giselle opened her door, her eyes widening in mock surprise when she saw me. "Oh, Elena! What a surprise. This is the very first time you've ever visited my place."

She smiled, stepping back to let me in.

"I'm just here to retrieve my pillow," I said, my voice empty of emotion.

She offered a sweet smile, turning toward the kitchen to fetch some water. But as she turned, I saw her thumbs flying across her phone screen. No doubt she was messaging Stefan to complain about my sudden arrival.

"Don't worry about the water," I called out. "I'm leaving as soon as I get my things."

She walked back into the living room, tapping her chin as if trying to recall where she had put it.