May You Have Peace

When Greg Davidson found me, I was sitting on the curb, staring blankly into space.

On the massive digital billboard across the commercial street, a video of Greg and Chloe O’Malley was playing. The two of them stood side by side, looking up at the fireworks, looking exactly like a deeply devoted couple.

Greg suddenly blocked my view and yanked me up to my feet.

“It’s late at night! What’s gotten into you? So what if I didn’t make it to your checkup? Why can’t you just be a little reasonable for once?”

I froze slightly. In the two years we had been married, reasonable was the word I had heard most from him. Wanting to look at his phone was unreasonable. Wanting to accompany him to public events was unreasonable. Even begging him to go to my prenatal checkups was, apparently, unreasonable.

If this had been before, I would’ve immediately lowered my head and apologized. Yet now, looking down at my round belly, I no longer cared about being reasonable.

Seeing me ignore him and walk past, Greg flew into a rage. “What on earth are you up to now?”

“The photo studio.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, Greg was stunned. Accompanying me to checkups and taking maternity photos were the only two things I had ever begged him to do. However, he hadn’t remembered either of them.

A look of guilt crossed Greg’s face, and he took me to the photo studio.

“I’ve been really forgetful lately. Bear with me.”

I smiled silently to myself. His memory was perfectly fine. He remembered Chloe’s birthday, her favorite snacks, and even the specific release dates of every single one of her art projects, which were dozens, if not hundreds of them. He was only forgetful when it came to me.

While lost in my thoughts, he pulled the car to a stop at our destination. When I looked up and saw that we were at Chloe’s studio, my entire body went rigid. From the very first day she returned to the city, I knew that Greg had meticulously chosen that location for a woman. The studio was named Decade of Love, symbolizing their ten-year relationship.

The two of them had been high school sweethearts, but Chloe had left for Euruzone to pursue her dreams. In a fit of anger, Greg married me. Yet, after two years of marriage, Chloe ran right back to him.

After she caught a cold in the rain once, Greg forgave her and publicly resumed their old dynamic. Overnight, it felt as though I had become the other woman. However, I was no longer willing to swallow that bitter pill.

My grip on the car door handle tightened instantly, but before I could voice my refusal, Greg pulled me inside. Chloe immediately walked over to greet us. She had a slender figure, her dark hair tied up in a bun, looking both elegant and carefree. Compared to me, with my haggard complexion and swollen hands and feet, the difference was night and day.

An assistant in the shop, who seemed to have seen Greg many times before, called out with a bright smile, “Hey, Greg! Are you here to see Chloe again?”

Greg’s expression froze, and he shot a frantic glance at me.

Chloe gasped softly and turned around to lecture the girl. “Watch your mouth. This is his wife.”

Then, she smiled at me and added, “Don’t mind her, Trisha. She’s just a young girl who speaks without thinking.”

With that, she pulled me over to look at the dresses. My expression remained blank the whole time. Chloe glanced at me a few times, and seeing that I truly wasn’t reacting, a mocking smirk played on her lips.

My eyes were drawn to a long, pearl-white gown with a rather ethereal look about it. However, just as I reached out to try it on, Greg’s hand pressed down on mine, stopping me.

“Pick a different one,” he said in a low voice.

My brows furrowed, and just as I was about to ask why, I looked up and saw a framed photo of him and Chloe hanging on the wall.