Chapter 3Moonrise Over the Tide

When I woke the next morning, his side of the bed was empty.

Staring out at the sunlit street, my mind replayed last night’s scene. After my question, there had been a long, heavy silence from George. Then, his lips were on mine, hot and insistent, swallowing the words caught in my throat. His eyes were dark, unreadable pools.

The unspoken question died between us.

I rubbed my throbbing temples. A flash of light caught my eye. Sometime during the night, he had slipped the contents of the box onto my ring finger.

The diamond glittered, catching the morning sun and refracting it into a blinding star. Maybe the light was just too bright. It made my eyes water.

…

George seemed determined to put my mind at ease. No matter how busy he was, he came home for dinner every night. We’d curl up on the sofa and watch cheesy primetime dramas. On weekends, he took me to plays and late-night movie premieres, and we’d walk home under the stars.

For a little while, it felt like we had traveled back in time. Back to a long, long time ago.

My mother once told me I probably couldn't even bake a cake properly, unlike my sister, who excelled at everything she tried.

Our tenth anniversary was just a few days away. I suddenly had the urge to bake a cake for George with my own hands.

That night, after he was sound asleep, I snuck into the kitchen and pulled out the ingredients I’d bought. Following a tutorial video, I carefully measured and mixed, step by step. Slowly, a cake took shape under my hands.

It turned out I wasn't completely useless after all.