Chapter 2

Back in the hospital room, Malcolm had already fallen asleep after taking his medicine. Noah told Alison to go home, rest, and come back in the morning.

She agreed without protest.

When Alison walked out of the hospital, the smell of disinfectant faded. She kept her head down as she walked and bumped into someone.

"Sorry," she mumbled without looking up. She stepped aside and kept going.

Theodore Statham stood where he was, turning to watch her back as it got farther and farther away.

"Theodore?" The man beside him, Gabriel Jamison, nudged him. "What's wrong?"

Following Theodore's line of sight, Gabriel glanced over, then let out a knowing sound. "Oh, it's her. Her uncle's been admitted here. Second floor, regular ward."

"Doesn't this hospital belong to the Hale family?" Theodore's fingers balled into fists.

"It is." Gabriel lowered his voice. "I heard Erik Hale gives her 20,000 dollars a month for living expenses, but her in-laws don't give her a penny. No company shares, no dividends, no stock options, nothing. People say the Hales even forbid Erik from helping out with her cousin's business."

Theodore said nothing, his eyes still fixed on the hospital entrance.

"Quit staring. Jesse's still waiting for us." Gabriel started walking. "Visiting hours are almost over."

"Give me your car keys," Theodore abruptly said.

Gabriel faltered, then handed the keys over in confusion.

Theodore immediately ran after Alison.

Gabriel was left standing alone. He shook his head and muttered, "She doesn't even remember you. Why put yourself through this?"

…

Alison stood by the curb, waiting for her rideshare.

The hospital entrance was crowded with people leaving after visiting hours. Cars jammed the driveway, horns blaring nonstop.

She glanced down at her phone. The car she had booked was still stuck over a mile away, and the map was a web of dark red traffic lines.

The night breeze felt a little chilly, and she pulled the collar of her trench coat tighter around her.

Just then, a black SUV pulled up in front of her. The window slid down, revealing a face that was almost unreasonably attractive. The driver wore a three-piece suit, the fabric carrying a subtle, expensive sheen.

"Miss, are you Alison? Did you book a ride?" the man asked.

Alison checked her phone again. The rideshare she had hired was still over a mile away, not moving at all.

"I'm a friend of the driver's." The man handed her his ID, license, and phone. "He can't make it here in time, so he asked me to pick you up. He also begged you not to give him a bad rating."

The name on the ID was Theodore Statham. The home address wasn't an apartment complex but a standalone house on a major downtown street.

Alison hesitated for a few seconds, then canceled her ride. She took Theodore's documents and got into the back seat.

The car was very clean; it was obviously owned and driven by someone who lived well. Still, she felt a little on edge.

"Is the AC too cold?" Theodore asked.

"It's fine," Alison said, pressing her lips together.

Theodore kept stealing glances at her in the backseat through the rearview mirror. She had big eyes and a hint of baby fat in her cheeks—the kind of look that starred in many men's first-love fantasies.

Shoulder-length hair framed her soft and gentle features, and she wore a cream-colored dress. With just a bit of polish, she'd be as beautiful as a movie star.

Alison's phone chimed with a short alert. She looked down and saw a WhatsApp message from Erik. "What do you want?"

Alison: "Uncle Malcolm is in bad shape. He needs a particular type of medication. Can you help me get it?"

Erik: "Talk to Nancy."

Nancy Carr was his chief secretary.

Alison: "Okay."

"How come the trees in Hollibrook only shed their leaves in spring?" Theodore suddenly asked.

Alison came back to herself. "When the new buds grow in spring, they push off the old leaves."

"I've been gone so many years that I forgot about that."

Alison really looked at him then. That suit he wore probably cost no less than one of Erik's custom pieces.

The car pulled up in front of The Meridian's main gate and stopped. Alison handed Theodore's documents and phone back. "Thank you."

Theodore took them without saying much.

…

The Meridian was a luxury high-rise development in Hollibrook's new CBD. The smallest unit was over 3,000 square feet, and even the cheapest apartment cost tens of millions. Even so, they were almost impossible to get.

Alison walked into the penthouse duplex. The place was empty and echoing, so quiet it felt oppressive.

She and Erik had gotten married two years ago. This was their marital home.

The couch in the living room was wide and soft. Alison sank into it, exhausted.

The tissue box on the coffee table was empty. There were unwashed dishes sitting on the dining table. They hadn't hired a housekeeper because she insisted on handling everything herself. It had been her idea.

She hadn't wanted a "third wheel" in their home.

A third wheel.

Alison's movements slowed.

In the end, who was the real third wheel? Even before marrying Erik, she'd known that he had someone else in his heart. She'd stubbornly pushed her way in, anyway.

She and Erik had met long before getting married.

When Alison was 14 years old, she and Noah had been running a small stall at the night market when a group of thugs came to shake them down. Erik happened to be walking by. He'd stepped in and gotten them out of the trouble.

That year, Erik was 17 years old. He'd been in a denim jacket, and the streetlight had wrapped him in a soft, golden warmth, making him look like a hero of an old film.

With a cold expression, he'd pulled out his phone and made a single call, and the local police chief had shown up in person.

That was when Alison had secretly fallen for him.

She'd always known they were from different worlds and that he was out of her league, so she'd never dared imagine that anything would actually happen between them.

Later, by sheer chance, she'd saved his grandmother's life. The old lady, Henriette Giles, had insisted that Erik marry her.

At a family matchmaking dinner, Alison had sat down across from Erik. He'd lifted his eyes, glanced at her, then looked away and said flatly, "So it's you."

Henrietta had held Alison's hand. "My grandson lost his mother when he was little, so he grew up withdrawn, but he's kind at heart. Ally, I'm getting old. Help me take care of him, will you?"

On the way to the wedding, Alison's high heels had just refused to cooperate. Erik had stopped and waited for her for a few seconds, then held out a hand in resignation and said, "Come on."

It was that one phrase that had made her believe that as long as she treated him wholeheartedly, one day, he would truly see her.

During the first year and a half of their marriage, Erik had been distant, but at least they'd been polite and respectful of each other.

But six months ago, Monique had returned to the country, and she and Erik had reunited at a class gathering.

After that, Erik had stopped coming home, stopped replying to texts, and stopped answering Alison's WhatsApp messages. When he did pick up her calls, he would tell her he was busy and hang up.

Last month, on their second wedding anniversary, he hadn't come home until after 2:00 am.

When she'd asked if he remembered their anniversary, he'd shot back, "We have something like that?"

Alison put the dishes into the sterilizer and shut the door.

A few days earlier, she'd already moved her things out of the master bedroom and into the guest room. She'd also been secretly looking for a place of her own. Once she found one, she would move out.

There was a divorce agreement in the drawer. She'd already signed it. She didn't want anything, except to leave with her dignity intact.

She knew Erik had always looked down on her. He said she had deliberately gotten close to Henrietta just so she could marry him, that she'd schemed and used every trick in the book.

She'd tried to explain herself several times, but he wouldn't listen.

Alison put the agreement back into the drawer. With Malcolm's illness, she needed Erik's help in getting that new drug.

She was the stupid one. If she'd ended up getting cheated on, then she had only herself to blame.

But after she'd lost her parents when she was 12, it was Malcolm and Jane who had raised her. She owed them everything.

She could endure anything, but her loved ones had to be okay.

…

Alison had no idea that the black SUV that had just sent her home was still parked downstairs. It hadn't left.

Theodore lowered the window, lit a cigarette, and called Gabriel.

"Dude, what's going on? Are you still coming?" Gabriel asked.

"Where's Erik?" Theodore asked.

"Where else would he be? He's at the hospital with his first love. I heard he's staying there with her tonight." Gabriel paused. "Honestly, if you were this hung up on her, you should've fought for her back then. You're the one who saved her life when you were kids."

"I'm heading over right now to return your car."

Theodore hung up and looked up at the window of the penthouse unit again.

If Alison ever got her memories back, she would remember that shipwreck and how her parents had gone down with the ship in front of her. He had promised her parents he would make sure the rest of her life was filled with joy.

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel until the leather let out a low, strained squeak.

He had learned long ago that there was only one person he could fully trust in this world, and that was himself. So why would he ever leave her in the hands of anyone else?