Her Revenge Was His Regret (Shirley and Gilbert) novel Chapter 288

"If you were already divorced, would you give Lucas a chance?"

That question echoed in her mind, bringing back a flood of memories.

Back in the day, even on Gilbert's days off, she'd wait on him hand and foot and anticipate his every need.

She watched his mood like a hawk; the second he was thirsty, she'd rush to pour water.

It became second nature.

No one ever did that for her. When she was frazzled and made mistakes—normal stuff, really—all she got from Gilbert was complaints.

"What are you, blind? Watch what you're doing!"

Even when she burned herself badly enough to blister, his first reaction was always a frown, then a lecture.

"Can't even handle something this simple? What good are you?

"You women think staying home and doing nothing deserves payment? Please. With skills like yours, you'd get fired from any job in five minutes."

Sherry learned to swallow her tears and never let him see her hurt.

That's how you become the bitter, worn-out wife.

She remembered once he'd splattered hot oil while making eggs here, burning her hand.

Compared to past injuries, it was nothing. She didn't even flinch.

Lucas didn't say anything at the time.

But from that day on, he made the eggs.

It's the little things that get you. Sherry admitted—in that moment—she'd nodded.

She wanted to give herself a chance, too.

Lucas was the first person who made her feel like she had a real home.

She'd lived in that villa for years but always felt like an intruder. Here, in the Harrison house? No discomfort.

When she thought of "going home," this was the place that came to mind.

Until now—

The place she thought of as home had people sitting in it.

They were sitting at their usual dining table.

Something twisted in her chest.

Then the elegant old lady on the left frowned. "Can't even handle simple tasks, this live-in maid? Dropping food everywhere. It's dirty now. You expect us to eat dirt?

"Lucas, I hear you're particular about these things. How'd you hire such useless help? Dressed all flashy, too. Don't maids wear uniforms?

"Seems to me she's got impure intentions. Trying to seduce her way up?

"Why else can't she manage simple chores? What's a servant for, anyway?"

She acted like a total queen bee, treating Sherry like a lowly slave. Her words dripped with venom.

Julia set down her fork, watching Sherry with a smirk, as if to say, when she'd promised she'd come to their home, she meant it—and right now she was sitting in the seat of the master.

Sherry stood there, labeled a maid. All the frustration Julia had endured from Sherry? Starting to pay off.

Lucas put down his utensils and walked over. Sherry felt it for the first time—that bone-chilling cold rolling off him.

The kind of lonely, terrifying aura that meant he'd reached his limit.

Tony once said, bitterly, "Boss is so two-faced. We get hit with his scary side every single day. The moment you show up? Poof. Gone."

That's when she realized—he'd never once turned that coldness on her.