Chapter 4

In the days that followed, Nikolai was as happy as a lark. He dug out a recipe book he had kept tucked away and went into the kitchen himself to simmer soup for me.

Sitting beside me, he rambled about how Celine had been in good spirits, how the garden at the family home had been renovated, and how I would definitely love it. I sat on the couch, listened, nodded, and occasionally hummed in response.

He didn't notice that I'd spent those two days discreetly clearing out my belongings. I folded a few pieces of clothing that had been buried at the bottom of my drawers, packed them into an unassuming cloth bag, and tucked it into the deepest corner of the wardrobe. I gathered my passport and documents and placed them in the small bag I carried with me.

He thought I was putting away my winter clothes. I didn't explain myself.

Estelle had posted several updates on X in the last two days.

She posted a photo of the city at dusk. There was no one in it, but in the background stood a floor-to-ceiling window with the curved frame unique to the top-floor conference room at Nikolai's company. I recognized it at once. The caption read, "People who work overtime are never lonely."

A netizen asked in the comments, "Is someone keeping you company?"

Estelle: "Of course."

Later, she deleted it. But I had already taken a screenshot of her post.

My anorexia had been acting up again for the past two days. I drank half a cup of soy milk in the morning, and immediately, my stomach started to rebel.

I sat on the cold bathroom floor, resting my forehead against the edge of the toilet, telling myself to hold on just a little longer. I needed the strength to leave. Then, I'd have plenty of time to fall apart.

…

On the morning of the family dinner, I booted up X and found out she had posted another update.

It was a candid shot taken inside a car. The angle was crooked, and the lighting was dim, but I could make out a man's hand resting on her knee from the passenger seat. That ring was the one I had bought. I recognized it almost instantaneously.

The caption read, "He's accompanying me to meet someone important today."

Clutching my phone, my stomach spasmed. I rushed into the bathroom and threw up until my whole world was turning upside down.

When I was done, I sat on the bathroom floor, gasping for air. Eventually, I braced myself against the counter, stood up, turned on the faucet, splashed water over my face, and looked at myself in the mirror.

My eyes were teary, my lips were pale, and my cheekbones had become far more prominent than they were half a year ago. I bent down, rummaged through the bottom drawer for a box of crackers, tore it open, and slowly chewed on two pieces.

I didn't want to eat at all. But I had to. I needed the strength to get through the day.

Nikolai returned after I had finished getting myself ready. He immediately noticed the thin layer of sweat on my forehead, and his expression darkened. He rushed up to me, crouched down in front of me, pressing his palm against my cheek.

"What's wrong, Emi? Are you not feeling well? Why do you look so pale?" he fretted. "Did you throw up again?"

I shook my head. He did not believe me. He caressed the back of my hand with his thumb and said softly, "Emi, I've contacted a specialist overseas who specializes in treating anorexia. They have a very good reputation. Once our family dinner is over, let's go together, okay?"

I looked at him. There was something in his eyes that made me want to look away.

"Let's talk about it after the family dinner," I responded.

He held me for a long while before promising, "After today, I'll take you somewhere to properly recover. Don't be afraid. I'm here for you."

I leaned against his shoulder and closed my eyes as I listened to him.

I remembered the first time he introduced me to his friends, years ago. He had held my hand, pulling me closer to him in the middle of the crowd, whispering in my ear, "Emi, stay close to me. I don't want to lose you."

Back then, I thought that was what our future would look like. He had no idea that after today, there would be no more tomorrow for us.

…

There were more people at the family dinner than I had expected.

Celine was sitting at the head of the table. When I walked in, she glanced at me, and the corners of her lips curved slightly. It looked less like a smile and more like a knife wrapped in silk. "You're here. Come, sit!"

About 20 minutes after I took my seat, she came up with an excuse and asked me to go into the inner room to help her get something. The moment the door closed, she pulled a stack of documents from a drawer, placed them on the vanity, and pushed them toward me. "You said you wanted it in three days. Today marks the third day."

I walked over and lowered my gaze to look at them.

"It's already been stamped," she casually added. "I've arranged everything perfectly on my end, so there won't be a scene later. Don't you worry."

With that, she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and headed back toward the door. Halfway there, she turned around and sized me up. "You're so thin. It's no wonder he wants to leave you."

I took the envelope, clenched it in my hand, and walked back to the side hall. Nikolai was standing outside, talking with a few of his friends, his head tilted back in laughter. The bright confidence in his demeanor was exactly the same as it had been seven years ago.

The moment he turned around and saw me, he waved at me and strode toward me. "Emi, I just talked it over with the guys over there. Let's hold a proper wedding ceremony after some time!" he chirped.

He paused for a beat before adding sheepishly, "You had to settle for so little back then. This time, we're going to do it right!"

Right after saying that, his gaze landed on the envelope in my hand, and he faltered. "What's that?"

Before I could answer, a commotion suddenly broke out near the front door.

Celine's voice abruptly rose, her tone shifting into one filled with genuine delight. "Oh, Estelle, you're here! Come in, come in!"

Nikolai's gaze shifted for a split second when he heard Estelle's name.

Celine had already walked over and was tugging on his sleeve. "Go greet her, Nikolai. She came all this way…"

He told me to wait here before being pulled away by Celine.

Under the lights, he stood very close to Estelle. She looked up as she talked to him, and he leaned down, shielding her from the light behind her. It looked like he had done it countless times before.

I tucked the envelope into my pocket, spun on my heel, and walked toward the side door on the other end. Rows upon rows of car headlights shone outside. I took a deep breath and walked forward, step by step, without looking back.

Roughly 20 minutes later, Nikolai emerged from the side room, looking faintly troubled, though he seemed to be forcing himself to relax. He had made himself clear. He would arrange for Estelle to leave the country, and after that, he only wanted to focus on our life together.

He hurried back to the main hall and glanced around the room. The guests were still there. Celine was still there. The liveliness was still there. Yet, I was gone.

He walked up to Celine and asked lowly, "Mom, where's Emi?"