Chapter 3

Linda was pregnant.

I stared at her baby bump and felt cold all over.

I thought I would accept the reality of Noah having a happy family.

But I couldn't accept that Noah was with Linda, especially when she had fabricated all those stories about me.

I followed Noah around resentfully.

He didn't believe her, did he?

[Noah! Use your head! How could I possibly be that kind of person?]

Noah couldn't hear my frantic shouting, but during a break from work, he drove his Cullinan to my former home.

No one had lived in my old home for years.

My mother couldn't bear to face my death. She couldn't bring herself to rent the place out either, so it remained empty and gathered a thick layer of dust.

Noah stood helplessly in front of the rundown door, looking like a lost child.

Whenever someone passed by, he stopped them and asked, "Excuse me, do you know Belle Hart? She used to live here."

"Oh, young man, I'm getting old. I can't remember. No one's lived here for ages, has there?"

He asked several people, but none of them remembered me.

Five years had passed. Who would go out of their way to remember me? Besides, the neighborhood was now mostly occupied by elderly residents.

With no other choice, he went to the property management office to ask whether they had my mother's current phone number. Her old number had stopped working long ago.

When he got the number, the look on his face was like a man who had found buried treasure. I couldn't help laughing.

[Noah, you clearly still miss me, yet you pretended otherwise in front of Linda.]

His hand trembled as he held the phone. Then the call connected.

"Mom… Hello, ma'am. Do you remember me? This is Noah Whitmore. I need to speak with Belle in person about something…"

My mother remained silent for a long time, and even I grew nervous.

My mother and I had agreed that she absolutely couldn't let anything slip.

As expected, she refused him.

"Our Belle is doing very well now. Please don't bother her again."

She hung up before he could respond.

Noah sat frozen for a long while before finally starting the car and driving away.

A cigarette dangled from his lips. Smoke curled around him, but it couldn't dispel the restlessness weighing on him.

I glared at him unhappily. I hated the smell of cigarettes. Noah had never smoked before. He used to cheekily tell me that he was a good man who didn't smoke.

After smoking for a while, he suddenly stopped, stubbed out the cigarette, and opened the windows to air out the car.

Then he pulled over and went to check the things on the back seat.

That was when I noticed the delicate wig inside the box.

The fine strands easily absorbed the smell of smoke, and no amount of washing could get rid of it.

I had complained about that repeatedly whenever we went shopping.

I stared blankly at the wig.

I still remembered spending six months in the hospital. My hair had fallen out in handfuls because of the treatment.

In the end, no matter how reluctant I was, I had to shave it all off and wear a wig.

I had once run into Noah's good friend, Chris Jones, at the hospital.

I hadn't been wearing a hospital gown. I wanted to look beautiful, take some staged photos, and post them on social media so Noah would believe that I had fallen for someone else and was living wonderfully.

I never expected Chris to deliberately bump into me. I nearly fell, and my wig slipped off.

He looked surprised for a moment, then let out a quiet whistle.

"Well, well. Did the good girl decide to change her style?

"Or does that old man like an androgynous look? Is he into both men and women?"

I said nothing, but Chris stepped on my wig and ground it under his shoe several times.

I understood his anger. He was standing up for Noah.

That was why I grabbed my mother's hand and pleaded with her when she rushed out and tried to call security to deal with him.

"Forget it, Mom. I'm fine. Just let it go…"

I didn't cry after Chris left. Instead, my mother held me and wept for a very long time.

So, was Noah planning to apologize to me for this?

There was no need anymore.

He carefully placed the wig back in the box.

He even sniffed it to make sure it hadn't picked up the scent of smoke.

I let out a soft laugh.

But in the next moment, he contacted someone to find out my family's current address.

I panicked and reached for his phone, but my fingers passed right through it.

The person on the other end sounded confused about his intentions.

Noah explained calmly, "Linda and I are holding our wedding ceremony in Seaview City next week. I've moved on, so I want to invite Belle to our wedding. Why shouldn't I?"