CHAPTER 4: The Woman He Never Forgot

EMELY

“So… if I may ask, what exactly was the relationship between you two back in college?”

For a moment, the air shifted. Lorian inhaled slowly, while Alexander turned to her, as if giving her the chance to answer first.

“We… used to date,” Lorian said at last. Her voice was neutral, but steady.

Alexander added without hesitation—and even with a hint of a smile, “She was my first love.”

My chest tightened. There wasn’t even a second for my brain to process it because the sentence was spoken so lightly—like I wasn’t sitting right here at the same table.

I nodded, pretending I wasn’t drowning on the inside. “Oh, I see.”

“Yes, like that. Sorry, Emely. We didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s fine. I appreciate the honesty.”

Lorian’s expression softened slightly, as if making sure I wasn’t hurt. “Emely, it was a long time ago. There’s nothing between us now.”

“I never hold the past against anyone,” I replied with a faint smile. “We all have one.”

My answer sounded neat and perfect—and maybe the saddest thing in my life was exactly that: I had become too good at giving neat answers.

A moment later, the waiters arrived with our orders.

“Thank you,” I said politely.

Lorian took her milkshake with obvious excitement, drinking it like she was tasting nostalgia. She didn’t even notice the pink foam clinging to the corner of her lips.

I saw it. Alexander saw it. The difference was our reactions.

I stayed still, of course. It wasn’t my place, not my right—not my role.

Alexander didn’t think twice.

“Lorian,” he called gently.

She looked up, confused.

“You’ve got a little…” Alexander gestured to his own lips. Lorian wiped with a tissue, but not completely.

Alexander chuckled—not mocking, but warm. A warmth I hadn’t received in a very long time.

“Let me,” he murmured, voice low… too familiar.

Before I could react, his hand was already moving. He took a tissue from the table and touched the corner of her lips. Slow, careful.

Not a polite gesture. A familiar one.

Lorian froze, but not in rejection. Her cheeks and neck flushed—clearly not embarrassed, but touched. It looked like something that had happened many times before.

“All gone now,” Alexander said as he sat back down.

Lorian smiled—small, uncontrollable. “You still remember my silly old habits,” she said softly, as if recalling a memory too sweet to hide.

“You always did that every time you drank strawberry milkshake,” Alexander replied with a light laugh, completely unaware of how deeply those words stabbed me.

I just sat there, staring at the hand that had touched another woman’s lips—the hand I once called my husband’s. But tonight, I was nothing but a spectator at the dinner table of my own marriage.

I forced a smile.

“You two seem to share very strong memories.”

Both of them turned toward me at once, as if realizing only now that I was still at the table. Lorian looked flustered, gaze dropping. Alexander cleared his throat, trying to regain professionalism.

“Okay, back to the topic. This isn’t a reunion,” he said while taking a breath, though the warmth from moments ago was still in his voice. “So… you still haven’t gotten married, right?”

“More like I never planned to.”

“Oh? Why?” Alexander asked—far too enthusiastically for a man sitting next to his wife.

This time, not only Alexander was curious. Honestly, so was I.

“Because I think marriage is… complicated. Messy,” Lorian answered with a small laugh. But before I could decipher her tone, her gaze shifted directly to me. “Don’t you agree, Emely?”

Oh God. Was she provoking me?

“Marriage is complicated,” I said. “But many great things in life are complicated. It doesn’t mean we stop fighting for them.”

Alexander turned toward me. Something flashed in his eyes—surprise? Admiration? Or irritation at being challenged? I couldn’t tell. But Lorian looked at me differently… almost like I’d just passed her first test.

She nodded slowly. “That’s a good answer,” she said—not sweet, but truthful. “More mature than I expected.”

I couldn’t tell whether it was praise… or a warning.

Alexander cleared his throat. “Alright. Let’s focus on the medical process. Time is running.”

Lorian straightened immediately—professional again. They moved on to documents, schedules, hormone tests, legal contracts. I tried to follow—though occasionally, Alexander and Lorian shared little smiles and glances, like they spoke a secret language meant only for the two of them.

Until finally, Lorian wrapped up the discussion.

“I’ll start my initial examinations this week. The sooner, the better for everyone.”

“Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I appreciate it.”

For a second, Lorian’s gaze softened. “I know you do. That’s why I chose you.”

The conversation flowed again—but only between them.

Soft laughter, nostalgia, funny stories from competitions and campus events.

My lips smiled too… but not my heart.

It was foolish of me, choosing Lorian so quickly without checking another candidate first. Now, I could only laugh bitterly at my own carelessness.

When we stepped outside the restaurant, the air felt colder than it should have.

Alexander’s car pulled up to the front.

“I’ll just book a taxi,” I murmured while taking out my phone.

Alexander immediately responded, “Alright, whatever you want.”

Relief washed through me—until he continued,

“Lorian? What about you? I can’t just let a woman like you go home alone this late.”

“Oh no, Alex. I can go home by myself,” she said with an awkward smile. “You should take your wife home.”

Her refusal sounded polite… but I heard something underneath.

A refusal that wanted to be refused.

Alexander turned to her, quick. “It’ll rain soon. It’s not right to let you go home alone.”

“I’ll be okay,” she insisted gently—like a good woman who didn’t want to trouble anyone, though her eyes didn’t truly turn him down.

It was a subtle game. And Alexander walked into it immediately.

“You’re coming with us. I’ll take you home first.”

I froze. I thought he was just excited to reunite. But then he added,

“I want to make a good impression on her. She’s going to be working with us, right? There’s no reason to make her feel uncomfortable.”

A perfect reason—leaving zero space for me to show my hurt.

Oh, he wasn’t wrong. He just… didn’t choose me first.

Lorian glanced at me carefully, gauging my reaction.

“Emely, really. I can go home by myself. I don’t want to make your position uncomfortable.”

I smiled—a smile stitched together from the scraps of my breath.

“It’s fine. Take her home first. That’s the sensible decision.”

Alexander looked relieved that I didn’t make it an issue.

Of course—because I had always been the wife who didn’t make problems.

My booked taxi arrived. I opened the door. Before stepping inside, I heard Alexander call me.

“Emely?”

For a split second, I hoped he had changed his mind.

That he would say, “I’ll go with you.” Or, “I’m coming home with you.”

But what came was only:

“Don’t forget to send me the medical records later.”

“Yes. Don’t worry,” I whispered.

He gave a small smile and closed the taxi door for me.

Through the back window, I watched them walk side by side to his car.

Alexander opened the front passenger seat for Lorian, not the back.

The seat that… used to be only mine.

No tears fell. Strangely, it hurt even more when my body was trained too well not to cry.

The taxi drove away. And I had to watch their car fade into the distance—with my husband inside… and the woman who had just confessed she was his first love.

For a moment, I wished I weren’t so perceptive. That I hadn’t seen the way Lorian looked down shyly.

Or how Alexander smiled brighter than he ever had for me in our entire marriage.

I arrived home before the rain started. I hung my coat, removed my shoes, and went straight to the bedroom. No one asked me anything today and somehow that was easier than having to answer.

I washed my face, changed clothes, and sat at the edge of the bed while checking my phone. A notification popped up.

An email from the candidate agency.

[From now on, all communication and decisions regarding the pregnancy process will be handled directly by Mr. Alexander Winchester. Emely does not need to be present.]

My eyebrows drew together. I am the applicant for this process. Why am I not allowed to attend? The reply came within seconds. New directive from the Winchester family.

A message from Alexander arrived immediately after.

[Lorian and I are stopping by for dinner. Don’t wait for me tonight]

No emoji. No explanation. The rain outside finally poured harder.

I stared at the screen until I went numb.

Tonight, too, I wasn’t even worthy of being the second choice.