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Author: Alyssa J
Derek returned home while I was writing in my journal.

Hearing him open the door, I put down my pen and tucked the journal into the drawer.

Derek had been coming home early lately.

Sometimes in the evening, he would accompany me on walks.

That night, as I sat on the bed reading, he suddenly came over and pulled me into his arms.

I leaned against him, feeling the slightly elevated temperature of another person's body.

He rested his chin on top of my head, reading along with me the trashy romance novel in my hands.

We reached the part where the male lead stood up for the female antagonist, who slapped the female protagonist, making her cry out: "I'm your mate!"

His arm around my waist tightened.

I casually turned to the next page.

We continued reading, watching the male lead repeatedly siding with the other woman against his mate, seeing the mate's heartbreak again and again until she finally resolved to leave him.

The mate then had an awakening, immediately beginning his pursuit to win her back. After many twists and turns, they got their happy ending.

We finished the book around midnight.

I remembered the sleeping pills I'd left in another room and tried to free myself from Derek's embrace, but he wouldn't let go, keeping me locked in his arms.

"Derek?" I called his name.

"Hmm," he responded softly.

The room suddenly grew very quiet.

So quiet I could hear his heartbeat.

"Willow."

He buried his head in my shoulder, his voice carrying a hint of something like hurt.

"You used to never call me by my full name."

I suddenly felt like laughing.

Derek never used to call me Willow either.

Instead, with a distant and unfamiliar attitude, he politely called me "Miss Dawson."

We had both changed.

I turned around to face him, putting my arms around his waist, and smiled as I called him: "Dev."

He looked at me, his eyes carefully examining every emotion on my face before lowering his gaze and pulling me even closer.

"Willow..."

I never knew Derek could be so affectionate.

But if he truly loved me...

Then why was he so attentive to Sarah?

A week had passed since my meeting with Sarah.

Our wedding anniversary was approaching, and Derek grew increasingly clingy.

My journal reached its hundredth day, which coincidentally was also our wedding anniversary.

A casual comment I'd made earlier had stuck with Derek. He came home early and spent the afternoon busy in the kitchen.

I took Echo out to play before returning home, where Derek had already set everything up.

The food on the table gave off a tempting aroma. Derek stood to the side, a smile playing on his lips, his eyes soft as he looked at me.

"Welcome home, Willow."

Roses and music—cliché yet romantic.

Two plane tickets lay beneath a bottle of champagne, dated for the day after tomorrow.

I glanced at Derek, then at the tickets, and smiled.

The clock on the wall pointed to eight.

The atmosphere was perfect.

Until Sarah called.

The beauty on the other end cried like a wilting flower in the rain, saying she felt terrible.

She called him by their old intimate nickname.

"Dev, I feel so awful. I'm in unfamiliar territory here—you're all I have."

"Please come help me."

"Dev."

The romantic atmosphere shattered instantly.

Derek glanced at me.

Just that one look.

And I understood.

"Willow... I'm sorry."

"I'll just take her to the hospital and come right back. It won't take long."

I only asked him one thing.

"Could you not go?"

Derek looked at me without speaking.

The atmosphere suddenly dropped to freezing. I watched his smile disappear, reverting to the Derek from five years ago.

Cold and distant.

The Derek who was still a stranger to me.

He looked away, promising again: "I'll be back soon."

"...I won't miss our anniversary."

We seemed to be at a standstill.

Finally, I gave in.

I said, "Okay."

Derek turned and walked toward the door while I stood in the living room watching his back.

I saw him look back.

I smiled.

Just like countless times before, like a proper mate seeing off her mate.

I said: "Be careful on the road."

He said: "I will."

I watched him disappear into the night, the music still flowing from the speakers.

I picked it up and smashed it to the ground. After the loud crash, the living room lost all sound.

I turned and went back to our bedroom.

Derek wouldn't come back tonight.

I knew it.

Sarah had won the bet.

But I hadn't lost either.
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