Love Faded in the Wind

"Are you sure about this?" asked the voice on the other end of the phone. "Once you burn your ID, the person named Stacy Lynd will cease to exist, and the people who know you will never be able to find you again."

Never be able to find her again? That was exactly what she wanted.

Stacy chuckled bitterly once, before her smile faded and she spoke with determination, "Yes, I'm sure."

Though surprised for a moment by her resolve, the voice soon replied, "Very well, Miss Lynd—everything will be done within two weeks, and you will be provided with a new identity. We wish you all the best in your brand new life."

Brand new life? Once could only hope.

Hanging up, Stacy rose to her feet and walked with her legs—numbed from crouching, and took a cab home.

After taking a bath, she was going to lie in bed when Martin Spencer entered, his body pungent with alcohol.

He found Stacy with pinpoint precision, reaching out and gathering her in his arms as he breathed sweetly, "Why didn't you pick me up, dear? I've been waiting… You smell so good…"

As he spoke, he nuzzled her neck while his hands began to get unruly.

Stacy's thoughts went adrift, seeing how he seemed to know his way around her.

She remembered how he chased her around tirelessly for three years to prove his sincerity.

And when Martin's mother expressed her disapproval, he held her tightly as he assured her, "It doesn't matter if my mom stops us from getting married. I won't marry at all for the rest of my life, and we will stay together forever. Don't worry—I won't marry anyone else."

As Martin's mother couldn't hurt Stacy, she instead had Martin brought home by force and arranged his marriage.

He was absolutely pale and haggard when he made it out, and it was much later when Stacy found out that he had rebelled against his mother by refusing to eat.

And since then, Stacy never backed down no matter how Martin's mother threatened her, as she knew she wasn't fighting alone.

But now, she was glad she had overheard Martin's conversation.

Otherwise, how long would she have allowed Martin to keep her in the dark? To the day of his wedding, or when she was condemned as the other woman?

Fighting back the bitterness in her, she gently shrugged off his embrace and shook her head. "I'm a little tired."

Martin did not force her, even gently helping her to bed and hugging her from behind. "Then get some proper sleep. I could feel you losing weight."

Stacy pretended to sleep and didn't respond.

-

Early next morning, Stacy stirred to find Martin standing in front of the closet, changing clothes.

Hearing moving, he turned, went over and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Morning, dear—it's the new year. Get changed now, and let's head outside."

And with those words, he headed downstairs without waiting to listen to what she would say.

After Stacy got changed and headed downstairs, the cook immediately greeted her when she saw her, "Good morning, Mrs. Spencer. Let me get you your soup."

Even though they weren't married, Martin had ordered all the servants to address Stacy as Mrs. Spencer anyway because there would only be one.

And yet, he would be legitimately married to another woman in just two weeks, and it was the end of Stacy's tenure as the nominal Mrs. Spencer.

She stayed downcast as she smiled self-deprecatingly, and went for breakfast.

Afterward, Martin sent away the chauffeur and got in the driver's seat, saying that he would take Stacy outside on his own.

They went around the city, going to places like the aquarium and having lunch at a garden restaurant.

Along the way, he was exceedingly observant, stopping to let her rest as soon as she showed a hint of fatigue.

And as evening arrived and she thought they'd head home, he instead drove up a hill.

Knowing that she was confused, he explained, "You said fireworks would be especially beautiful when viewed from above. Why don't we do that now?"

Stacy remembered that it was merely an offhand suggestion while watching some videos on the phone, and was surprised Martin remembered it.

And Martin didn't mind that she wasn't responding either. He could tell that she was not in the mood, and kept droning on to cheer her up.

He was usually a man of few words, but he seemed to never stop talking around Stacy.

They arrived at the peak in thirty minutes, and it was a beautiful view up there tonight.

It was the last hour of the year when Martin's phone started vibrating, and he glanced warily at Stacy when he saw who had texted him.

Seeing that she was keeping her eyes fixed below the hill, he sighed in relief ever so subtly before quickly replying to the text.

At the same time, Stacy turned ever so slightly to peek at his phone, and saw the text that read: [I feel so lonely spending New Year's Eve alone. Can't you come spend some time with me?]

Stacy watched as Martin replied: [Be good.]

The reply was: [Pretty please? I'm scared of the dark. I need you tonight.]

Martin fought for himself for a couple of seconds before replying: [Sit tight.]

Stacy quickly turned away before he looked up, and said, "Sorry, Stacy. Something came up at work and I can't stay."

"Yeah," she murmured calmly, her expression impassive but her fingers clenching on top of the car hood.

And in under a minute, Martin sped off into the distance, leaving in such a hurry that he had forgotten he was driving the only car, or to arrange a way for her to head home.

There were no taxis coming up the hill either, and the thought left Stacy's heart aching and tightening as if seized by a giant hand.

On the hour, the fireworks were at once grand and dazzling.

It really was beautiful, and Stacy knew that Martin had prepared it for her.

And yet, he was by another woman's side at this moment.

As if to prove her right, her phone vibrated in her palm.