Bury My Love for Him

I pulled out all my winter clothes and carefully folded them into my suitcase.

Suddenly, the front door opened.

Someone tiptoed inside. A pair of large hands wrapped around me from behind, and ten cold fingers covered my eyes.

"Guess who?"

The man lowered his voice on purpose, making it deep and smooth, just like he always did when he came home from a business trip and wanted to tease me.

The old me would have laughed and said, "Obviously, it’s my handsome man," before taking his hands and warming them for him.

Not anymore.

There was no sweetness left in me, and I had no interest in playing along. I pulled his hands away and kept folding clothes without looking at him.

My boyfriend, Jim Carter, froze for a moment, his cold fingers slowly curling into fists. A second later, however, his shoulders drooped, and whatever anger he had been holding onto seemed to disappear.

He looked like a sad puppy caught in the rain.

"Rose, what's wrong? Isn't a month of giving me the silent treatment enough?

“You suddenly showed up at the wedding. I spent forever explaining it to everyone."

The corner of my mouth lifted in a bitter smile.

A month ago, I had become the laughingstock of every relative and friend I knew because my groom had married someone else in front of everyone.

My mother had suffered a heart attack because of it, and Jim had thrown me out of the venue like I was some beggar.

Even on the day we buried my mother, people around town were still whispering and pointing at me, their contempt impossible to hide.

"That's her, isn't it? I heard her fiancé left her standing there alone on their wedding day. She’s supposedly some kind of genius, but she's almost thirty and still can't even keep a husband."

"What a disgrace. I heard she’s the reason her own mother died. Her poor mother spent her whole life raising her, and this is how it ended."

The damp, suffocating feeling from the day we buried my mother wrapped around me again. However, I had cried all my tears long ago.

When I finally came back to myself, I spoke quietly.

"It's not the silent treatment—"

I wanted to say, 'We're over.'

Before I could get the words out, Jim nodded and let out a drawn-out ‘oh’.

"So, you're not giving me the silent treatment. You're just mad at me, right? I already texted you and explained everything. Lucia's husband ran out on her. Our families have known each other for forever. Helping her out isn't going to cost me anything."

He dropped onto the couch like he owned the place. Then, he casually picked up a gray-and-white sweater and awkwardly started folding it for me.

His handsome brows drew together slightly beneath his tousled bangs, and his thin lips curled in faint disapproval.

"This sweater is so ugly. You should just throw it away."

I said nothing. Instead, I stared at the silver wedding band on his left ring finger, suddenly realizing what that extra-cold touch against my eyelids had been.

Jim followed my gaze.

Looking guilty, he quickly slipped off the ring and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he blinked, trying to brush it off the way he always used to.