Chapter 3 He Brings Her Home

Only then did I realize that the garage Alistair and I had rented when we first started our business had long since been demolished. And the stall we used to visit every day just to save a dollar had already turned into a bakery.

That was when I finally understood—things change, and so do people.

Even the beautiful memories I once cherished had been erased by time.

My phone rang. It was my mentor.

There was a hint of hesitation in her voice as she began, "Winnie, your application to join the 707 confidential research project was approved yesterday. I need to confirm this one last time—have you truly thought this through?

"This mission will take at least five years. Without you, the company you and your husband built could easily collapse. Will your husband agree?"

I stepped forward, leaving that familiar street behind, and answered firmly, "I'm getting a divorce."

…

Because the classified project was about to begin—and because I wanted to leave as soon as possible—I arranged for my mentor to send someone to pick me up the very next day.

With no mood left for wandering, I took a cab straight home.

The living room lights were on. Alistair was sitting on the couch, texting.

The moment he saw me, the crease in his brow smoothed out. He rushed over, grabbed my hand, and demanded, "Why didn't you wait for me at the restaurant? When I got there, and you were gone, do you have any idea how awkward that was for me?"

I froze for a moment. I hadn't expected him to actually show up in the end, but seeing how confidently he questioned me, I couldn't help but find it ridiculous.

Then again, it made sense. He was used to me waiting right where he left me.

I pulled my hand free. "I was full. Why would I stay?"

Perhaps realizing he was indeed in the wrong, he suppressed his irritation and handed me a gift box. "I bought this especially for you today. Open it and take a look."

I wasn't surprised. After standing me up so many times, some compensation was expected.

That was Alistair. Every time he messed up, he would toss me a little sweetness afterward.

And I would always wait anxiously, hoping the compensation would be a little more—hoping he would spend just a little more time with me.

I took the gift box and casually tossed it onto the couch. "You're too kind," I said politely.

The smile on his face froze. For the first time, he noticed my indifference. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes as he reached for my hand again.

Just then, Maria's voice floated down from the second floor. "Alistair, maybe I should go home first. If Winnie comes back and misunderstands, that would be troublesome."

When she came down the stairs and saw me, Maria hid the triumph in her eyes, covering her mouth as she put on a look of surprise.

Alistair hurried to explain, "Maria twisted her ankle yesterday. I took her for a follow-up check today—that's why I was late. She can't move around easily right now, so I let her stay in the guest room for the night."

After speaking, he stared at me intently, as if afraid I might get angry.

I nodded and replied indifferently, "Then, I'll stay at a hotel. I won't live under the same roof as her."

Alistair was stunned. He clearly hadn't expected that reaction. "If you really don't like Maria staying here, I can send her—"

Before he could finish, Maria suddenly tumbled down the stairs, clutching her foot as she began to sob softly.

He turned pale, quickly lifting her up and carrying her back into the room to massage her ankle.

When I pulled my suitcase toward the door, ready to leave, he returned to the living room. He pressed his lips together and gripped my hand tightly, refusing to let go.