Chapter 2

She hadn’t expected me to agree without a fight.

Her tone softened considerably.

“If you’d been this understanding from the start, we wouldn’t have fought so much.”

I took out my phone and transferred the money without hesitation.

Three years together, and all I got in the end was praise for being understanding.

When I first arrived in this world, I knew nothing. I did everything with an open heart.

I loved her. I didn’t want her to see Tristan, and I drove myself half mad trying to stop her.

All it did was bring them closer.

She grew more impatient with me too.

Now we were divorced.

The first thing she wanted to do was see Tristan.

But after she got into the car, she took the trouble to explain herself for once.

“You’re strong enough to manage on your own. Tristan isn’t. He gets scared so easily...”

Tristan’s family died in a car accident a year ago. Since then, he called Jasmine to come stay with him more and more often.

I lost count of the nights she never came home.

Their families were close when they were children, and everyone treated the two of them like siblings.

To Jasmine, Tristan was both the older brother she wanted to protect and the love she kept on a pedestal.

A flicker of concern crossed her face as she spoke.

Even her voice softened when she said his name.

She never spoke about me that way.

At least it would all be over soon.

Of all people, I fell for someone like her in my first relationship.

I could admit now that I gave my heart to the wrong person.

Jasmine went on.

“I’ll be home tonight. Make me something to eat when I get back, and...”

I cut her off and forced a smile.

“Got it. Drive carefully. I’ll make you a late-night snack and wait for you. If you can’t come home, that’s fine too. Stay with him a little longer.”

Jasmine’s grip tightened around the steering wheel.

I thought she would be pleased, but she frowned at me instead.

“What are you up to this time?”

She had it all wrong. I really didn’t plan to do anything.

I didn’t even plan to get angry.

Once, Tristan hurt his finger at home, and she was so worried that she left me stranded on the road to rush to him.

Another time, Tristan took a liking to a stuffed toy I made, so she insisted on giving it to him. I spent three months making it by hand and even injured my fingers, but she didn’t care.

Things like that happened too many times.

I knew better than to get angry now.

But Jasmine didn’t believe me. She gave a cold snort.

“You’d better mean it. If you hadn’t kept getting in my way, Tristan might not have come so close to dying.”

She glared at me as though I had driven him to attempt suicide.

I refused to take the blame for that.

“He stopped taking his medication, and his depression took a turn for the worse late at night. What does that have to do with me? I didn’t take his medication away.”

I even paid for the better antidepressants he took now and his occasional therapy sessions.

I barely took a day off the whole time I lived here.

I rested a little over the holidays, but I still dealt with work documents.

Jasmine loved painting but had no steady income, so I supported her every month.

She spent all that money on Tristan’s trips and treatment, then asked me for more.

Jasmine looked at me with disappointment.

“Tristan got sick because he lost his family. How can you have no sympathy for him? How could you be so heartless?”

I took a deep breath. I couldn’t be bothered to argue anymore.

She had already decided I was unreasonable. Anything I said would sound like an excuse to her.

“I understand. Go spend more time with him. If he needs money for a trip, I’ll give it to you.”

My response left Jasmine with nothing to say.

After a moment, she said, “Just don’t be angry anymore. It’s not like I’m never coming home. Once he gets better, I’ll remarry you.”

“No, thanks,” I thought with a bitter laugh.

I knew Jasmine wouldn’t come home tonight.

The first time she went to see Tristan, I stayed up waiting for her.

I waited until dawn, but she never appeared.

All I got for my trouble was a scolding.

“If you were tired, why didn’t you go to bed? How is that my fault?”

Now I watched her drive away.

I turned and took a cab home.

I was poor in my own world, but at least I didn’t have to endure this emotional torment.

The thought that I could leave in fifteen days made me happy.

As for Jasmine and her dear Tristan, I wished them well. May they stay together forever.