The Day He Called Off Our Engagement, I Bought Iceland Tickets Chapter 12

It was not that Sophia never tried to keep clinging to him.

At first, she kept trying to get close to Mrs. Whitmore. She brought supplements, went shopping with her, and acted obedient, hoping to win Michael back through his mother.

But she soon discovered that once I was no longer there for comparison, Mrs. Whitmore did not find her quite so pleasing anymore.

Sophia knew how to act sweet, but she was too lazy to do actual work. She knew how to flatter people, but she could not endure the slightest hardship.

She complained about being tired after accompanying Mrs. Whitmore to one hospital visit. She made a mess of the kitchen while trying to make soup. She could not even find the right medication after searching for ages.

After several incidents, Mrs. Whitmore finally exploded.

“All you know how to do is sweet-talk people. What else can you do?”

“I used to look down on Lily, but at least she handled everything properly, inside and outside the home.”

“And you? I ask you to pour me a glass of water, and you manage to burn me.”

Sophia’s face flushed red, then turned pale. She slammed the insulated food container in her hand onto the table and sneered at Mrs. Whitmore.

“So now you know Lily was good?”

“Who was the one who looked down on her family for being poor, looked down on her for not being from New York, and said she wasn’t good enough for your son?”

“If your whole family hadn’t treated her like dirt every day and used her like a free housekeeper, would I ever have had the chance to step in?”

“Now that she’s gone, you finally remember how good she was. Where was all this before?”

After saying that, Sophia turned and left, slamming the door so hard it shook the house.

From then on, she never came back.

Mrs. Whitmore was so angry she could barely catch her breath. In the end, she could only clutch her chest and sit down.

Because deep down, she knew everything Sophia had said was true.

Later, it was not that Michael never went on blind dates again.

But his reputation was so bad that any family who asked around even a little stayed far away from him.

For the first time, he felt utterly ashamed.

He lived in the apartment that was once supposed to become our marital home. The place grew older and more worn down, and he became more withdrawn with it.

Mrs. Whitmore got older, but her temper did not change at all. Every day, she either complained that the housekeeper did a poor job or went on about how capable I used to be.

“If Lily were still here, why would I have to worry about any of this?”

Michael finally got tired of hearing it and answered coldly, “Weren’t you the one who drove her away when she was here? What’s the point of regretting it now?”

That single sentence left Mrs. Whitmore’s face livid.

From then on, mother and son fought every few days, filling the house with bitterness and resentment.

Sometimes after a fight, the entire house would become terrifyingly quiet again.

Neither of them understood how their lives had turned into this.

But none of that had anything to do with me anymore.

My designs were featured in magazines and local best-of lists.

I stayed by my parents’ side as they slowly grew older, and I gave myself the time and care to become the person I had always wanted to be.

I was finally no longer anyone’s appendage.

No longer anyone’s fallback choice.

I belonged only to myself.

And I was doing very well.