Chapter 1The Wait Never Ends

For four years of marriage, Cillian Newberry's catchphrase had always been "wait."

Traveling could wait until he wrapped up his work.

Celebrating our wedding anniversary could wait until his meeting was over.

Visiting my parents back in my hometown could wait until he had the time.

Today was my birthday. I made sure to ask him two weeks in advance if he would be home for dinner.

After he promised me he would be there, I spent the entire afternoon preparing his favorite dishes and waited for him to come home.

However, I waited from six o'clock until nine, but he never showed.

Then, an entertainment news broadcast caught my attention.

[The CEO of Newberry Corporation was spotted picking up his childhood sweetheart after work! Could this be a case of old flames rekindling their romance?]

I subconsciously looked up upon hearing the reporting.

The broadcast showed a man holding an umbrella while tightly embracing a woman dressed in light clothing.

It was only a few steps from the building entrance to his car, yet he tilted the umbrella toward the woman the entire way, letting the rain soak his own shoulder.

Then, I received a text from him.

[Something came up. I'll be back in a bit.]

I thought I was used to waiting. I thought I was content with waiting quietly at the table for him to come home, as I always had.

When I looked at him in his rain-soaked suit on the television, I realized I was done waiting.

* * *

Margaret's POV

I lit the candles by myself and made a birthday wish.

“I wish I’d be happy this year.”

In the past four years of my marriage with Cillian Newberry, it was the first wish I made that had nothing to do with him.

My wishes used to be the same every year. I wished that I would spend forever with Cillian.

Now, all I wanted was to be happy.

After blowing out the candles, I cut a piece of cake for myself.

It was a blueberry-flavored cake, which was his favorite.

Even on my birthday, I curated everything to fit his taste.

When I bit into the cake, I winced from how sour it tasted.

It was impossible to force myself to enjoy something I did not like.

The same principle applied to both things and people. No amount of effort could change one’s preference.

I used an online application to buy a ticket for the last train tonight, bound for my hometown.

Ever since we got married, I had not had the chance to return to my hometown even once.

Whenever I brought up the idea of heading back for a visit, Cillian would tell me he was busy, and promised that he would take me when he had time.

I waited endlessly, but the occasion never came.

Today, I realized there was no use waiting for him anymore. I took the train home alone.

While I prepared to carry my suitcase downstairs, the news was playing on the television.

A reporter who noticed the windows of Cillian’s car were rolled down had boldly approached the car to interview him.

“Mr. Newberry, do you think your wife is going to be upset if she finds out you were driving in the middle of a storm to pick up your childhood sweetheart?”

“No, I’m just here to send an old friend back home.”

Cillian, who was usually uninterested in responding to such questions, had chosen to answer today. There was an impeccable sort of warmth in his voice when he spoke.

“Besides, my wife wouldn’t be angry with me. She’s always so gentle. Even as we speak, she’s waiting to have dinner with me at home.”

By the time he reached this tone, I had walked to the doorway.

I smiled to myself, then shut the door.

Little did Cillian know, I was never waiting for him again.