Chapter 3Fading Years, Drifting Apart

"What?"

He seemed to step away into a quieter spot. His voice came through clearer.

"Irene, I did not catch that. I am hiking with a client right now, it is pretty loud."

Right. Because Sloane was his client.

I had zero intention of arguing with him.

"I will handle the wedding planner. Go back to work."

I was about to end the call when his voice spiked with sudden, nervous energy.

Clearly, my freezing tone finally registered.

"Are you still mad? Last night I took a shower and just passed out. I swear I did not ignore you on purpose. And when I woke up, it was so early, I knew you were a light sleeper so I did not want to wake you..."

He was always so attentive. So detail-oriented.

Turns out he applied that same skill to lying.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and gave a vague, dismissive hum.

James did not sense the absolute finality in my silence. He would have kept talking, but a high-pitched, whiny voice cut him off.

"Come here! The good light is almost gone!"

It was far away, but it was unmistakable.

It did not matter anymore.

I hung up the phone.

I slumped back against the leather seat, taking a few minutes to force my heart rate down.

Then, I called the wedding planner, apologized profusely, paid the stylist a cancellation fee, and told them to go home.

Without resting, I put the car in drive and sped straight back to the house James and I shared.

Since the wedding was off, there was a mountain of shared assets and personal belongings I needed to deal with. I wanted it done immediately.

But I completely underestimated what the physical and emotional toll had done to my body. Halfway home, a massive fever hit me like a truck.

I dragged my burning body into the apartment and collapsed into bed, slipping into a dark, suffocating sleep.

I had so many nightmares.

I dreamed of the night my parents died in the crash. The rain was so freezing cold.

Then I was back in the orphanage. The porridge was always scalding hot, but the caretakers would scream at us to eat it faster.

Then middle school. A kid told me I was unwanted trash. I lunged at him, ready to tear his face off.

But when the boy turned around, it was James. He was smiling.

"Look at you, Irene. Nobody wants you."

My entire world collapsed into an endless, dark void.

I cried endlessly.

But no sound came out.

...

I do not know how much time passed. The relentless buzzing of my phone finally pulled me out of the dark. I slowly forced my eyes open.

My screen was flooded.

Confirmation sketches from the custom jeweler.

The finalized catering contract from the hotel manager.

And a barrage of missed calls and texts from James’s mother.

But the most messages were from James himself.

"Irene, the planner said you canceled the trial. Did something go wrong?"

"My mom said you two were supposed to pay the venue deposit today. She cannot reach you. Where are you?"

"Pick up the phone."

...

"I asked the building management to check if your car is in the garage. If it is, I am having them unlock the door to make sure you are okay."

That last message was sent two minutes ago.

James knew I never disappeared without a word. I never broke commitments.

That was why he was panicking.

I frowned, pushing myself up, and dialed his number.

He picked up on the first ring, his voice frantic.

"Irene? Where are you?"

"I am fine. I just caught a bug and slept through the day. Tell building management to stand down."

"You are sick? Did you go to the doctor?"

"No need. I am better. When are you coming back? We need to talk."

He hesitated for a second.

A sharp, familiar voice suddenly invaded the call.

"Oh wow, she is sick? Then we definitely need to hurry back."

"A delicate little housewife like her cannot just push through it like us career women. She needs to be coddled."

I listened to Sloane’s aggressive sarcasm with absolute ice in my veins.

It was a shame she was not standing in front of me, or I would have taught her some manners with the back of my hand.

James coughed awkwardly. "Irene, get some rest. I will be home soon."

I ended the call, took a hot shower, forced down some takeout, and went back to sleep.

When I finally heard the front door click open, the sun had already set.

James pushed the bedroom door open quietly. I sat up and switched on the bedside lamp.

The warm light illuminated his exhausted face. He had clearly rushed all the way back. His voice was incredibly gentle.

"Did I wake you?"

Looking at his worried eyes, I had to admit that tearing this love out of my chest was going to take a little time.

I shook my head. I opened my mouth to speak, but a head popped into the doorway.

"Oh, you are still in bed?"

Meeting Sloane’s mocking gaze, the last lingering shreds of affection in my eyes vaporized instantly.

I turned my head to stare at James.

He immediately started explaining.

"Sloane has some business to handle in the city. She does not know anyone here, so I figured she could crash with us for a few days."

"Crash where?"

"We have a guest room, right?"

"A guest room?" My voice was lethal. "You mean the nursery?"

Aside from the master bedroom, the only other rooms with beds were my home office and James’s gym.

And the nursery. When he first suggested converting the spare room into a nursery, I was entirely against it.

The responsibility of raising a child terrified me. I was not ready.

But James dragged me to furniture stores. We picked out the ceiling lights, the plush rugs, the exact shade of pastel paint...

His endless patience and excitement slowly broke down my walls.

He told me he did not care if it was a boy or a girl, as long as they looked exactly like me.

Eventually, I actually started looking forward to it.

And now, he was handing that room over to Sloane.

Hearing my tone, James frowned in disapproval.