Chapter 4

Elizabeth's POV

On Sunday morning, as I changed into the hospital gown, Nathan sent me a message. "Liz, the client added something to the itinerary at the last minute, so I won't be home tonight either. There's some lasagna in the freezer. Remember to heat it up, okay?"

A 100-dollar transfer followed, with a remark that read, "Don't skip dinner, Liz!"

I declined it and simply replied, "Okay."

Then, the nurse called my name. I turned off my phone and walked into the procedure room.

As I lay down on the procedure table, I thought of the day I found out I was pregnant.

I had bought a pair of yellow baby socks at a maternity store, planning to put them in a gift box along with the test results.

I was going to surprise Nathan and tell him in person when he came back from his business trip.

But it turned out that his so-called business trip involved taking the wings I had marinated and going camping with 11 of his friends.

A cold stream of medication was injected into my vein. Before my consciousness faded, I placed my hand on my lower abdomen.

"I'm sorry, baby. Mommy has failed you. Mommy can't give you a proper home."

…

When I woke up, it was raining outside, and my lower abdomen throbbed with waves of pain.

Kendra helped me sit up to have a sip of water and couldn't help asking, "Is your husband still not done with work?"

I shook my head. "He's out of town with a client."

Even as the words left my mouth, I found it ridiculous.

I had over a dozen unread messages on my phone. In the group chat I was in, where almost no one ever spoke, someone suddenly sent a weather warning.

"It's going to rain in the mountains—everyone hurry and pack up!"

The message had been sent to the wrong chat.

In this group chat, everyone always sent well-wishes and greetings during the holidays. But the moment I sent anything, the chat would instantly fall silent. The real jokes and gatherings all happened in another group chat without me.

I opened the settings and left the group chat.

Five minutes later, Nathan called me. "Why did you leave the group chat?"

In the background, I could vaguely hear laughter and chatter. Sonia then called out to him in Westmerean, telling him to go over and join them for a picture.

Nathan hurriedly covered the receiver and went somewhere quiet.

"Who's that with you?" I asked.

Without even a pause, he lied and answered, "The clients. They're discussing work. Anyway, don't change the topic."

I leaned against the hospital bed and asked softly, "You're with your clients, aren't you? How did you know I left the group chat?"

He snapped back impatiently, "Elizabeth, everyone's going to think you have a problem with them if you just pull something like this out of nowhere."

"Do they even care?"

Nathan paused for a couple of seconds at my question. "What's been up with you lately? I've just been away for two days. Is it really worth getting so angry over it?"

So it turned out he thought I was just throwing a tantrum because he was away. He never once considered that I already knew what he was actually doing.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" I asked.

Nathan, as if finally hearing the familiar opening for reconciliation, softened his tone. "I'll come back and make it up to you, alright? I'll bring you a gift and take you to that restaurant you wanted to try. Just rejoin the group chat first. I don't want them making a joke out of us."

I said nothing.

A man's laughter came from the other end of the line. "Nate, is Elizabeth checking up on you? Has she found out you're out having fun and gotten jealous?"

Nathan didn't hang up right away. Instead, I clearly heard him answer in Westmerean with a laugh, "She hasn't found out. She's just been having an upset stomach these past couple of days, and she's throwing a little tantrum at home again."

The whole group of them laughed along.

So to Nathan, all the grievances I'd had for the past eight years needed neither an explanation nor an apology. He thought that a gift, a meal, and a few sweet words were all it would take for me to continue waiting for him.

When he returned to the call, his voice was gentle once more. "Liz, be good and stop making a fuss. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon. You can punish me however you want then, alright?"

"Okay."

This was the last time I would go along with him.

Nathan let out a breath of relief. "That's my good girl."

After completing the discharge procedures, I went home with Kendra. My three suitcases were already packed.

These were the same suitcases I'd brought along with me when I got married and moved to Westmere eight years ago. Back then, Nathan had complained about how heavy they were and insisted on pulling them the whole way for me, saying this would be my home from then on.

Now, I couldn't even fill up the three suitcases. It turned out that after living in this home for eight years, I still had so few things that were truly mine.

I placed the signed divorce agreement on the dining table and the abortion papers under it. Beside them sat the pair of yellow baby socks I never got to give him.

Just before I left, Nathan sent me another voice message. "I'm done discussing things with the client. I'll be back tomorrow. Think about what gift you want and let me know when I get back. Don't go saying that I didn't make it up to you!"

I didn't reply.

…

On Monday morning, I boarded the plane to Briarwood.

When my flight landed, my parents were already waiting at the arrivals gate. Mom hugged me and called my childhood nickname over and over in Briaric.

"Lizzie, it's so good that you're back home."

This time, I needed no one to translate for me.

I buried myself in her arms and finally cried out loud.

"Mom, I'm not leaving anymore," I sobbed.

…

Third-Person POV

At the same time, over in Westmere, Nathan pushed open the front door. "Liz, I'm back."

Silence greeted him.

When he saw the empty shoe rack, the smile on his face slowly stiffened.

Elizabeth's clothes were gone from the closet, and only his toothbrush remained in the bathroom. On the dining table lay a divorce agreement with the abortion paperwork under it. The date on the paperwork was yesterday's.

Nathan's fingers trembled violently as he stared at the paperwork.