Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Rigella's POV

Seymour gave me a warm hug as I leaned against his shoulder. At that moment, there was no awkwardness between us—only comfort. My tears kept falling as we sat quietly on the bench in the mansion's garden. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop crying.

Seymour had been my best friend since childhood. We were in our fourth year of high school when his family immigrated to Canada. That was also when I met Roxanne, and we quickly grew close.

He joked, “Oh, you’re still not done crying? Can I wash the dishes now? Your eyes are like a faucet!”

I laughed and playfully smacked him.

“You haven’t changed. Still cheesy,” I said while brushing away my tears.

At least now, the crying had stopped. I looked at him, even though my eyes remained fixed on the fountain in front of us—I could feel his gaze on me.

Oh my God. For a split second, we almost kissed! I looked at him sharply, but he chuckled, turned his face away, and pinched my nose like he always used to. I gently pulled away from him and sat up straighter.

Still staring at the fountain, I couldn’t help but recall what I’d seen earlier. I hadn’t even realized Lara was there at the party. That explained why Ivan only gave a smug smile before leaving the room—he was off to meet her.

I sighed, absentmindedly playing with my fingers. It still hurt. The pain of knowing his heart belonged to someone else was a wound that wouldn’t heal.

“Who was that woman with your husband earlier?” Seymour suddenly asked.

He wasn’t looking at me—his eyes were still on the fountain. I turned toward him with a faint smile.

“Lara,” I answered, bowing my head. “His girlfriend.”

I caught the raise of his eyebrow from the corner of my eye, and then he chuckled.

“Seriously?” he said, trying to keep the tone light. “You’re his wife, but he has a girlfriend?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I leaned my head back on his shoulder.

His next question was more serious—his tone so cold it made my skin crawl.

“How long has your husband been cheating on you?”

I exhaled shakily.

“Since the beginning,” I whispered. “He’s always been with Lara. He only married me because I got pregnant. It’s my fault… I wanted to marry him. And now, I’m paying the price.”

Seymour patted my back.

“Seriously? So why is he still with her until now?” he asked. “Didn’t he fall in love with you? Even just a little?”

His words made me pause. I had no answer. I had always tried to be the perfect wife—but was that ever enough for Ivan? Did he ever appreciate me? Ever thank me?

I looked down at my ring—both the engagement ring and the wedding band. My wedding ring was engraved with Ivan’s initials and the date of our wedding.

“Maybe… I don’t know,” I said quietly.

“Tsk. I don’t get it,” he muttered. “You’ve got the full package—beautiful, sweet, loyal, smart, rich. You’re a walking dream. So why the hell hasn’t he fallen in love with you yet? Cupcake, tell me—was your husband an alien?”

I laughed and gave him a light kick.

He’d been calling me “Cupcake” since we were kids. It was silly, but comforting to hear that nickname again. Seymour always knew how to make me smile when I didn’t want to talk anymore.

“And I don’t know about you, Cookie Monster,” I teased back, using the nickname I used to call him.

He laughed and then said, “By the way, a fashion designer I know is looking for a business partner for the boutique she’s opening. You might be interested. Didn’t you always dream of owning your own boutique?”

I leaned away slightly, surprised.

“Really? You’re not joking?”

He grinned and grabbed my nose again.

“Nope. We could meet her tomorrow if you’d like. This might be your chance. Who knows? You might become famous. I even showed her some of your sketches from high school—she was impressed.”

Overwhelmed, I hugged Seymour. My dream was finally within reach.

“Yes! Of course, I want to! That’s been my dream forever,” I said, smiling widely. “Call her, and let’s meet her tomorrow.”

He looked at me, still grinning, then suddenly fell quiet and looked away.

“It’s your fault,” he muttered.

I frowned. “Huh? What’s up?”

“You didn’t make me your son’s godfather,” he said sulkily.

I laughed and pinched his nose.

“Haha! How could I invite you when we lost contact? I even tried calling your old number, but I guess you changed it.”

He scratched his neck and sighed.

“Yeah, my fault,” he admitted.

He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, and handed it to me.

“Here. Save your number. I’ll call or text you when we meet with the designer.”

I typed in my number and gave the phone back. He took my arm again as we sat together.

I closed my eyes for a moment and inhaled. Seymour still smelled the same. That familiar scent I used to love—it hadn't changed.

But then a cold voice cut through the moment.

“Rigella.”

I turned and saw Ivan standing nearby, frowning at the sight of Seymour’s arm around me. I immediately pulled away and stood up.

I looked at Seymour and whispered, “Just text me what time we’re meeting tomorrow.”

I walked toward Ivan, and he grabbed my arm tightly—too tightly.

His voice was low and threatening.

“You left Ice alone just to flirt?”

I took a deep breath. I wanted to snap back. Why am I even explaining myself to you? But instead, I said calmly, “That’s Seymour—my best friend. We haven’t seen each other in years. We weren’t flirting.”

“Best friend?” he sneered. “Then why the hell were you hugging?”

I swallowed hard.

“I—Seymour’s just like that—”

He suddenly stepped closer, his face just inches from mine. His breath smelled faintly of wine. His gaze dropped to my lips.

His face was so close. My heart raced.

And then—his lips brushed mine.