Chapter 5

I reached out and gently brushed the damp strands of hair away from Tristan's forehead before muttering, "Stop being so foolish."

I was just about to stand up to grab a glass of water when Tristan suddenly moved. His hand shot out and caught my wrist with startling strength.

Startled, I whipped my head back around only to find his eyes wide open. They were bloodshot and unfocused, still hazy from the fever.

"Maisie… Don't go…"

I tried to wrench myself free from his grip. "Open your eyes and look at me! It's me, Serena!"

"Serena?"

Tristan blinked, his gaze struggling to focus as he tried to piece together my face. After a pause, a bitter chuckle escaped his lips before he loosened his grip.

"Right. Serena left, and Maisie doesn't want me either… I have absolutely nothing now."

He rolled over, burying his face into the pillow, his voice completely muffled. "Serena, do you want to know a secret? There were times… when Maisie reminded me so much of you, especially when she wasn't talking. I'm such a piece of trash. I was actually chasing your ghost in another woman."

My body went rigid.

I thought he fell for Maisie's gentleness and attentiveness. How on Earth did this turn into him looking for traces of me?

"If she reminded you of me so much, why did you want a divorce?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"Because you don't love me. In the past three years, whenever you looked at me, I never saw myself in your eyes," Tristan muttered. "I couldn't handle that look anymore. It was ice-cold. Maisie was different. She'd act coy with me and call me an idiot. At least in those moments, I felt needed."

I froze where I stood.

The disguise I had thought was flawless had been full of cracks in his eyes. He had simply been desperate to find a single spark of human warmth within our marriage, and Maisie, the identity I created, had given him the escape he needed.

He had fallen for warm, lively Maisie because he wanted to get away from the cold and distant Serena.

Just then, a sharp, urgent vibration rattled inside my bag.

The rhythm was incredibly distinct—three long pulses, two short. It was the custom notification I had assigned exclusively to Tristan on Maisie's phone.

To make it easier for me to tell the accounts apart, I had also paired that vibration with the faintest notification sound, a tiny cat meow.

In the quiet room, Tristan abruptly jolted upright, his voice hoarse. "What was that?"

My heart skipped a beat. Forcing myself to look calm, I shifted my body to block his line of sight.

"It's nothing… Just an alarm. You misheard."

"That's Maisie's custom notification alert."

He threw off the blanket, stumbling as he tried to climb out of bed. I reached out to stop him, saying, "You're seriously hearing things! That was just a stray cat outside!"

But he shoved me aside, stumbling toward the living room.

"Tristan!" I screamed and lunged forward, trying to reach my bag first.

Alas, he was faster.

He grabbed my bag and emptied its contents aggressively. Lipstick, keys, tissues, and other trinkets were scattered across the floor, and right in the middle of the mess lay a sleek black phone.

At that moment, the screen was still lit.

On the lock screen was a newly delivered notification from none other than Tristan himself.

The message read, "Maisie, if you're still there, please don't ignore me."

Tristan stood frozen, still clutching the phone. He looked down at the familiar profile picture, then slowly turned toward me.

"Serena… Can you explain why Maisie's account is logged into your phone?"