Chapter 3

When I unplugged the shredder, Clifton was already on his way to the second bedroom, phone in hand.

The door wasn't shut tight, and his voice leaked through.

"Jenna, stop writing nonsense like that. Heidi might see it and get the wrong idea."

…

The next day marked seven years since Clifton and I had gotten together. Before heading out in the morning, Clifton left a restaurant reservation card on the dining table.

"The Revolving Restaurant, 7:00 pm. I'll make it up to you with a proper date. Let's put everything that happened yesterday behind us."

I looked at that card, and for a pathetic second, I actually hesitated about walking away.

At 7:00 pm, I put on the white dress Clifton loved to see me wear and waited for him at the table by the window.

Half an hour later, my phone rang.

In the background on Clifton's end, I could hear the beeping of machines and the sound of footsteps. It was very noisy, to say the least.

"Jenna had a sudden heart palpitation. I'm outside the emergency room. You go ahead and have dinner. No need to wait for me."

Gripping the fork, I asked him, "Is it serious?"

He paused, his tone turning cold. "Are you asking because you care about her or because you're afraid I'll miss our anniversary again?"

I didn't say anything more and hung up the phone. Then, I packed up the untouched meal and went to the hospital.

The door to the hospital room was left ajar.

Jenny was already awake, leaning against the pillows. Her complexion was rosier than I had imagined.

Clifton sat by the bedside, holding a velvet box in his hand.

He took out a ruby bracelet. Engraved on the inside of the clasp were the letters "JS".

Those were Jenna's initials.

A month ago, he had taken me to have it custom-made. He said rubies suited my complexion and that he would give the bracelet to me the day before the wedding.

Now, he slipped the bracelet onto Jenna's wrist and said in a low voice, "This color really does suit you better. Your wrists are so fair—you look more beautiful wearing it than anyone else."

I stood outside the door, the takeout box in my hand slowly growing cold.

Mom came from the other end of the hallway. The moment she saw me, her expression darkened.

"Jenna just came back from the brink of death, and you're dressed like that? Just who are you trying to impress? All she can think about is your stupid anniversary. You're truly heartless."

Dad frowned and said, "Jenna is sick. Don't upset her any more than she already is."

Clifton came out too. His gaze fell on my bare wrist and, as if he had finally remembered something, said, "I'll buy you another bracelet later."

When he saw I wasn't saying anything, he frowned. "Heidi, don't be so stubborn. It's just a bracelet."

I looked at his face. For seven years, I had thought he was just too soft-hearted to stop looking after a sickly woman like Jenna. I didn't think he'd actually treat me like nothing.

But I was wrong.

I simply nodded calmly. "No, that won't be necessary."

…

Back at the marital home, I took out the magnolia wood paintbrush from the drawer. Underneath it lay a thick scrapbook. Inside were seven years' worth of movie ticket stubs, postcards, train tickets, and several love letters Clifton had written.

I packed them into a black trash bag, along with all the gifts he had ever given me, and carried it downstairs.

When I lifted the lid of the trash bin, a sour, rotting smell rushed up at me. I didn't hesitate and dropped the bag in with a dull thud.

My phone suddenly buzzed. It was the final rehearsal schedule from Claire. Attached to it was a seating diagram. A new display stand had been added next to the welcome area.

The title on the stand read, "Jenna's Patient Support Group Blessing Wall".

I gripped my phone, and it suddenly dawned on me that Jenna was going to invite her friends to my wedding. That was why she wanted the invitations.

…

I went to the hotel the next day. Claire was directing workers to move the display stand.

The stand was covered with photos and blessing messages from Jenna's fellow patients. Right in the center was a wedding photo of her in a white veil, glancing back over her shoulder.

Claire looked a little awkward when she saw me.

"Ms. Shaw, Mr. Cooper said this is a surprise corner. It was added at the last minute last night."

I pointed at the photo. "What about the welcome photo?"