Chapter 2

I called Orion.

The call connected.

“Orion, we’ve already di—”

“Sorry, I’m not Orion.”

It was Natalie.

“Who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Orion’s.”

I stayed silent for a few seconds.

“Did you need something from him? He stayed up all night packing. He hasn’t slept.

“If you have anything to say, you can tell me.”

I let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

I was about to hang up when I heard Orion’s voice on the other end.

“Who is it?”

“It sounds like… your wife.”

Orion took the phone.

“Yvette, what’s wrong?”

“Who is she?”

There was a long silence.

“A friend.”

“Just a friend?”

“Just a friend. Don’t read too much into it.”

“Are you going back together?”

“Yes. She’s not well. I’m a doctor. I can take care of her.”

The airport announcement came faintly through the phone.

“By the way, you like flowers, don’t you?

“I’m bringing you some seedlings.”

Then, he hung up.

I walked out to the balcony.

The flowerpot sat on the rack. The soil had already cracked dry.

The wind blew past and lifted dust into the air.

It was no longer fit for growing flowers.

My phone lit up. It was Orion.

There were only four words.

[Boarding. Do not disturb.]

He had sent those words 356 times.

Every time he did not want to deal with me, it was always the same message.

When Natalie had surgery, it was the same.

It was no different this time.

I murmured, “It won’t be like this again.”

At 10 a.m., Orion came back.

His hair was shorter. There were faint dark circles under his eyes. He still looked as gentle as before.

I froze for a few seconds.

He chuckled and pulled me loosely into his arms.

“Three years, and you don’t even recognize me anymore?”

“Yeah.”

He ruffled my hair.

“You’re heartless. I even brought you flower seedlings.”

It was a straight stem with a few green leaves. There were no flowers.

Thud!

I looked over.

A white pill bottle lay on the floor.

Omeprazole. A stomach medicine.

“Yours?”

“No. It’s Natalie’s.”

“Your friend?”

“Yes.”

“She’s sick?”

“Yes. It’s quite serious. When the pain flares up, she can’t eat anything.”

“Why is her medicine with you?”

“I probably grabbed the wrong one.”

He was lying again.

Orion pulled me toward the balcony.

“Let’s not talk about this. Let’s plant the flowers.”

He looked at the cracked soil and froze for a moment.

“It’s fine. I’ll ask Natalie to bring some soil next time.”

“Has your mother recovered?”

“…She’s almost better.”

“When are you free? I’d like to visit her.”

He tightened his grip on the flowers.

“Next time.”

He was lying again.

I said nothing.

At 8 p.m., the nursing home called.

It was Orion’s grandmother, Ruby Clark.

After dinner, Orion said he was going out for a walk, but he still had not returned home.

“Yvette, Orion left his phone here. Come pick it up.”

“Did he just visit you?”

“Yes. He also brought a friend.”

“Natalie?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know her?”

“I knew her before I knew you. I watched her grow up.”

“Do you like her?”

“I do. Whoever my grandson likes, I like.”

My nose stung.

“Madam Young, since you like her, let her visit you more often.”

“No!”

I froze.

“Orion wouldn’t allow that. You’re still left with all the tiring work.”

My throat tightened, and I could not speak for a long time.

But she was Orion’s grandmother, not mine.

For three years of marriage, I had taken care of Ruby.

When she lay in bed unable to move, I handled everything for her.

When she was bedridden and on medication, I stayed by her side.

When she could speak clearly again, it was because I had taken care of her step by step.

Once, I called Orion and asked him to come back.

He had asked in return, “Doesn’t she have you?”

Just one sentence was enough for me to take Ruby as my own grandmother.

Later, Ruby moved into the nursing home.

Orion even called to question me and blame me for it.

Three years later, all I got in return was that Orion would not allow it.

“Madam Young, it’s late. You should sleep.”

“All right. Tomorrow is my birthday. Remember to have Natalie come for dinner.”

After the call ended, the house fell silent again.

At 10 p.m., Orion came home.

“Your grandmother said you left your phone there.”

He paused while changing his shoes.

“You already know?”

“She went there too?”

“Don’t misunderstand. She cares about my grandmother, so I took her to visit.”

“You took her, but not me?”

“You see her all the time, don’t you?”

“That’s different.”

He looked at me, surprised.

“What’s different?”

“It has a different meaning.”

I turned up there on my own.

Orion had brought her there.

It was not the same.

“All right, all right. Let’s not argue, alright? I’ll listen to you from now on.”

He looked resigned, as if I had a say in everything.

During the three years of separation, he had always repeated this line.

When it came to making new purchases for the house, I decided.

When it came to the matters of Ruby’s illness, I decided.

Even when it came to the ring he never wore, I decided.