I Thought Love Had to Be Earned Through Chores, They Hugged Me Chapter 02

I Thought Love Had to Be Earned Through Chores, They Hugged Me Chapter 02

At 4 a.m. the next day, the entire Grant household was jolted awake by the roar of the range hood. Cole stormed into the kitchen just as I was flipping my sixth pan. Pancakes, ravioli, toast, oat milk, beef pasta, and a pot of chicken soup—all laid out across the counter.

He stared at the spread and let out a humorless laugh. “Marnie Grant, what exactly are you trying to do?”

I untied my apron and answered seriously, “Demonstrate value. Earn my spot.”

“This is your home. Nobody hired you.”

The spatula slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor. Not hired? That meant they were keeping me for nothing. Living without working was immoral, but freeloading—eating and sleeping on someone else’s dime—was a capital crime.

I pushed the oat milk toward him. “Cole, drink first. Yell after. Anger on an empty stomach damages the lining—and I’m not qualified to repair stomachs.”

The veins on his forehead bulged.

Annabel came downstairs in her pajamas, took in the breakfast spread, and her eyes flickered. “Marnie’s so capable. Unlike me—I can’t do anything. I just cause trouble.”

Catherine immediately stroked her hair. “Our Annabel doesn’t need to do anything. Mom and Dad can take care of you.”

I felt a surge of genuine respect. You could stay here without contributing a single thing? That took real skill. I pulled out my notebook, ready to take notes. Annabel’s smile stiffened.

That day, the Grant family threw my homecoming banquet. The stylist brought out a dress covered in diamonds. I looked at the price tag and nearly called the police. “One point eight million dollars? Wouldn’t that scrape your skin raw?”

She said it was haute couture. I didn’t know what that meant—I just heard “expensive.” So while they weren’t looking, I changed into a server’s uniform and slipped into the banquet hall to help carry trays. Over three hundred guests. Do you know how many dishes three hundred people generate? The thought alone got me fired up.

But the moment I carried out a plate of beef bourguignon, a scream ripped through the hall. Annabel lay on the floor, her white dress drenched in sauce. She cradled her wrist, tears welling up. “Marnie, I know you don’t like me. But this is your homecoming banquet—did you really have to push me down in front of everyone?”

Every eye in the room swung to me. Cole strode over and locked onto my wrist. “Marnie Grant. Apologize to Annabel.”

I looked at her, then at myself. “But I didn’t push her.”

“If not you, then who?” He sneered. “You dressed like a server on purpose—what, so everyone would feel sorry for you? And now you’ve thrown hot soup all over her. How many moves ahead are you playing?”

I opened my mouth—but before I could speak, the hotel manager came rushing over. “Mr. Grant, there was an electrical short in the banquet hall. Your eldest daughter went into the utility room and fixed it herself—we would’ve had a blackout otherwise.”

He held up his phone. The security footage showed me crouched in front of the breaker panel, flashlight clenched between my teeth, rewiring the circuit. At the exact moment Annabel fell, I was elbows-deep in a junction box.

The banquet hall went silent. Cole slowly released my wrist.

Annabel paled. Then she clutched her chest and sobbed. “Maybe I misremembered. I was just so afraid Marnie would hate me.”

Catherine pulled her close. “It’s okay. The misunderstanding’s cleared up now.” Cole whispered reassurances.

Nobody spoke to me.

I didn’t think much of it. Once, my old boss accused me of stealing vegetables. After I proved my innocence, he didn’t apologize—he just rewarded me with two hundred pounds of potatoes to peel by end of shift. I crouched down and silently started wiping up the spilled sauce.

Cole saw me and kicked the rag away in frustration. “Stop it! The Grant family doesn’t need you to do this.”

I went rigid. After several long seconds, I looked up at him. “So… where am I supposed to sleep tonight?”

He froze.

I rubbed my hands—cracked and raw from dish soap—and offered quietly, “At least let me wash tonight’s dishes. Three hundred people’s worth… that should cover one night’s lodging, right?”