Chapter 3Don’t Let Me Fade Away

When I was little, whenever my father was away, Vivian loved to talk about their early days.

She told me how Arthur used to write her poetry, how he would ride her on the back of his bicycle along the lake, the cool breeze in their hair. She spoke of how he would place fresh wild flowers in the glass vase on her nightstand every single morning.

I never believed her. For as long as I could remember, Arthur had been nothing but ice to her.

He was a completely different person from the man who snatched the cash from her hand and sprinted toward the hospital that night.

Thanks to the timely funds, Selene’s first surgery was a success, pulling her back from the brink of death.

When Vivian went to visit her at the hospital, I followed quietly behind.

Just outside the room, she froze, turning as rigid as a statue.

I peeked through the small window in the door and understood why immediately.

"Open up, sweet girl. Here comes the airplane."

Arthur was sitting by the bedside, carefully blowing on a spoonful of warm broth before feeding it to Selene. He gently used his thumb to wipe away a stray drop from her lip, his touch incredibly tender.

A patient in the neighboring bed teased them. "Oh, Selene, your man is so sweet to you. He hasn't left your side for a whole week."

Neither of them corrected her. They just shared a soft, knowing look.

The bright morning sun streamed through the window, bathing them in a warm, intimate glow.

For seven days, Arthur hadn't come home once. He hadn't even called.

Before they could notice us, Vivian spun around and ran, fleeing the hospital like a ghost.

Once we were back in our quiet, dusty kitchen, I couldn't hold back the question that had been burning in my chest.

"Doesn't it hurt? Seeing him treat another woman like she's his entire world?"

Vivian offered a weak, hollow smile, her voice barely a whisper. "You don't understand. Selene is his half-sister. He's just... he's just worried about her."

His half-sister?

A chill ran down my spine.

That was the first time I had ever heard about their true relation. But the way Arthur looked at Selene was far from brotherly. It was obsessive.

My eyes drifted to my mother's hands, rough and chapped from the winter cold. A simple gold band clung tightly to her ring finger.

A dark, sickening realization began to take root. Had Arthur married Vivian out of love, or was there another, uglier reason?

Seven days had passed. It was the deadline I had set.

"Today is the seventh day, Vivian," I said softly. "Have you made up your mind?"

A tear slipped down her cheek, splashing onto the dusty floorboards.

I remembered a night from my childhood when Arthur had taken her to a business dinner. He was already a rising executive back then. If he hadn't silently permitted it, no one would have dared force his wife to drink until she was sick. She ended up in the emergency room with severe gastric bleeding.

I remember sitting by her bedside in that sterile private room when I was only six years old, watching her clutch her stomach, staring blankly out the window as tears silently tracked down her face.

My heart squeezed at the memory. I stepped closer.

"My savings can only pay for this one surgery. He's already proven he's willing to gamble everything away. If you stay with him, there will be a next time, and a next."

"I'll do it," she whispered, cutting me off.

She looked up, her tear-stained eyes carrying a profound, deadened exhaustion.

"I'll divorce him."