Chapter 6

"The gifts have already been sold, and the clothes are packed away."

With every word, Orson felt the color drain from his face. "You're angry with me, aren't you?"

Maude remained silent.

While opening another cabinet, he discovered Maude's carefully packed suitcase.

In that moment, a wave of relief washed over him.

"We're moving into the new place soon, so packing early is a good thing. It'll make bringing everything over much easier.

"And if the gifts are gone, that's alright. I'll replace them with better ones. The old ones were probably due to be thrown out anyway."

Orson grasped her hand again, his voice weighed down with guilt.

"I'm sorry, honey. I don't know what came over me. I never meant to hurt you."

Maude looked into his eyes, but inside, she felt utterly numb.

That night, Orson sat beside her bed.

"I'll stay with you until you fall asleep. If I don't, I won't be able to rest."

Maude had grown accustomed to Orson's presence for over five years, but in less than a month, he made her doubt everything she once believed.

By 1:00 am, drowsiness was finally creeping in.

"Maude?" Orson suddenly called out.

Her eyes opened instinctively.

The light from his phone danced across his face, his impatience barely hidden beneath the shadows.

Without saying a word, Maude closed her eyes once more.

"Honey?"

As he'd hoped, Maude remained silent this time.

Orson got up quietly and walked out.

"Don't be upset, I'll be right there," he murmured, his voice fading as the bedroom door softly clicked shut.

Maude's mind wandered back to a distant memory.

In their fourth year together, she'd broken her leg in a car accident.

Orson had dropped everything to stay by her side, going without sleep the entire night.

She begged him to rest, but he refused to hear it.

He said he couldn't bear the thought of her suffering while he wasn't there.

Now, that same man couldn't spare even a moment.

Thankfully, she no longer needed him.

The next morning, the rain came down again.

As Maude stepped outside, she noticed Orson rushing toward her.

His clothes were drenched. He held a takeout bag close, treating it like a priceless treasure.

"Thank God these cinnamon buns stayed dry! They are from your favorite place. I rushed back so they wouldn't get cold."

Maude accepted the bag. The cinnamon buns inside were still warm.

Hungry, she didn't hesitate to take them.

Orson went to the kitchen and came back with two drinks—soy milk for Maude and chamomile tea for Imogen.

Across from her, Imogen sent a photo.

The image captured streetlights glowing softly through the gentle rain. Orson's umbrella was tilted protectively over Imogen, his black coat wrapped around her like a shield.

In one corner, the sign of Maude's favorite breakfast spot was visible.

Maude looked up to see Imogen smiling, a cup of chamomile tea cradled in her hands.

"Are the buns good?" Imogen asked.

The breakfast place was a two-hour round trip, one Orson had made for her countless times.

However, this time, Maude felt like she was just an afterthought.

Maude finished the last bite. "Yeah, they're delicious."

Imogen's smile wavered just a little.

Maude downed the soy milk in a single gulp.

Over the next two days, Orson suddenly became unusually attentive to Maude.

He got up early to bring her breakfast and made sure to change up the meals he prepared for her throughout the day.

However, every act of kindness came with Imogen by his side.

Meanwhile, more and more photos began to appear on Maude's phone.

Five days before the wedding, a message from Orson arrived.

"Honey, I've taken some time off. As soon as I'm back, I'll come pick you up to take our wedding photos."

Maude flipped through the calendar. The date was circled boldly, standing out on the page.

It had once been something she eagerly anticipated. Now, she'd forgotten it entirely.

She reached for a pen and struck through another day.

The wedding was off the table now, and so were the wedding photos.

Today would be the day to lay everything out in the open.

She and Orson would part amicably.