Chapter 4

I watched Tristan from the car without feeling the slightest ripple of guilt. If anything, I almost wanted to laugh.

He had abandoned his wife of three years, and now his heart was bursting with excitement for a "true love" who was actually sitting in a car less than 50 yards away.

The minutes ticked away.

When the agreed-upon hour arrived, rain began to fall, first in a drizzle, then in a steady downpour. The couples around him scattered one after another, but Tristan stayed on that bench without an umbrella.

The rain soon ruined the bouquet he had prepared so carefully.

My phone vibrated once more.

"Maisie, it's raining. Are you stuck in traffic?"

"It's okay. I don't care how long it takes, I'll wait."

"Maisie? Please say something. I'm starting to panic a little."

I watched through the glass as his soaked shirt clung to his skin, making his silhouette look utterly miserable.

For one ridiculous moment, my heart softened.

Had I gone too far?

No. A clean break would hurt less than dragging this out. It was better for him to believe Maisie was a catfish who had played with his feelings than to find out she had been his ex-wife all along.

I took a deep breath, unlocked my phone, and typed out the final, ruthless message.

"Tristan, are you seriously that naive? We're adults here. It was just casual flirtation. Did you actually take it seriously?"

"I have a boyfriend. I was honestly just planning to string you along for a laugh tonight, but then it started raining, and I couldn't be bothered to leave the house. Block me and lose my number."

I sent the messages and blocked him in one fluid motion.

Tristan pulled out his phone and stared at the messages for a long, long time.

Then, without warning, he bolted upright and slammed the ruined bouquet violently into the pavement as a raw, guttural scream tore out of him.

A moment later, all the strength seemed to leave his body, and he sank back down among the muddy petals. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders heaving violently.

I suppose he was crying.

I started the car and was about to leave when the phone that was linked to "Serena" suddenly rang, the caller ID showing Tristan's name.

After getting dumped by his mistress, the first person he reached out to was his ex-wife.

I hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Hello?" I said, doing my best to make my voice sound heavy with sleep.

"Serena…"

Tristan's voice was raspy. He sounded utterly pathetic over the roaring wind and rain. "Can you come get me? I-I don't have anywhere else to go."

His voice was thick with tears, as if he had fallen apart completely. "I'm at Jorvia Park. I'm so cold…"

I cursed under my breath, furious at my own weakness.

"This is the last time," I told him.

Since I was only a short distance away, I had to stall long enough to make it look as if I had actually come from somewhere else.

By the time I "arrived" at the park bench, Tristan was already feverish and barely conscious. He was curled up on the bench, soaked from head to toe, and his skin was frighteningly hot.

Even then, he was still slurring to himself, "Liar… You're all liars…"

I sighed and spent an embarrassing amount of effort getting him upright and into the passenger seat.

Tristan was restless the entire drive. His fingers kept clawing at my sleeve, as if he were afraid I might abandon him. "Serena, don't go… You're the only one who wouldn't lie to me…"

He kept his eyes clamped shut, his cheeks flushed crimson as he tried to bury his head into my shoulder.

My heart was a tangled mess of emotions.

I ended up taking him back to my apartment because I had no other choice. Seeing him in that state, I couldn't, in good conscience, leave him alone at the mansion.

And when I tried to take him to the hospital, he clung to me and refused to let go.

It took far too much effort to get him onto the bed. After that, I peeled off his wet clothes and wiped him down with a hot towel.

By the time I finished, I was covered in sweat.

Tristan lay on the bed as his breathing slowly steadied. I sat beside him and stared at his familiar face, only to feel a hint of reluctance creeping into my mind.

These past three years might've been devoid of love, but living under the same roof day in and day out still left a mark.