Chapter 2 When the Light Went Out

I nodded. "No need to explain."

But he simply took it as a remark made in anger, for I had said "no need" many times before—no need to celebrate my birthday, no need to pick me up from work, no need to argue with his mother for my sake…

Every time, he believed me. Because every time, I really would swallow all my emotions on my own.

This time was no different.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked toward the door.

The fog lamp was still glowing by the display window. He had chosen the shade himself. It was a warm amber. At the base, one line was engraved—"Come home when the fog clears."

I paused, then reached out and turned it off.

"Victoria, where are you going?" Tristan called from behind me.

I did not look back.

As I stepped outside, my phone buzzed. It was a message from the wedding planner.

'Ms. Campbell, Mr. Shepherd just confirmed that the wedding date is currently undecided. Would you like to continue holding the venue?'

I stared at the message for a long time before replying, 'No need.'

…

Tristan came to see me at ten that night. He stood at the door, holding a takeout container of soup from the place I often ate at.

He rarely bought things like this in the past. Yet, every time he upset me, he would bring one.

I opened the door but did not let him in.

He glanced at the entryway. "Still upset?"

"No," I said.

Tristan frowned. "Victoria, you made Gabby uncomfortable at the bridal shop today."

I lowered my gaze to the container of soup. Condensation fogged up the plastic bag, like a haze that refused to clear.

"So, you came to speak for her?" I asked.

"I just don't want you to take things too far." His tone was steady. "She just got out of a failed marriage. She's emotionally fragile."

"And I'm not?" I asked.

He paused, so briefly it was almost nonexistent.

Then, he said, "You're not the same as her."

I laughed.

There it was again. I was not the same as her. She cried, so she needed to be comforted. I did not cry, so I was expected to be sensible.

Tristan held the soup out to me. "Eat something first. Don't hurt your stomach."

I did not take it. "You remember my stomach, but not my wedding?"

His hand froze midair. "The wedding is just postponed."

"How many times?"

He did not answer.

"Three," I said for him.

The first time, his company had funding issues. The second time, his mother was not feeling well. The third time, Gabriella came back.

Every time, there was a reason. Every time, I gave in.

"I'll make it up to you," Tristan said quietly, and I countered, "What have you ever made up for?"

He frowned in response. "Must you use that tone with me?"

I looked at him. "What tone should I use then?"

Before he could answer, his phone rang. It was Gabriella calling.

He glanced at it but did not answer it.

"Answer it," I said.

"No need."

The call ended.

A second later, a voice message came through. He tapped it open, and her tearful voice spilled out of the speaker. "Tristan, did I cause you trouble again? Will Victoria hate me? I really didn't mean to wear her wedding dress."

Tristan's brows tightened.

I pulled the door open a little wider. "You should go."

He looked at me. "Tori."

"She's emotionally fragile," I finished for him.

His gaze darkened. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?"

For a moment, overwhelming exhaustion swept through me. "Tristan," I said, "I canceled the wedding venue."

He froze. "You what?"

"I said there's no need to hold the venue anymore."

His expression turned completely cold. "Victoria, don't use the wedding to threaten me."

I nodded. "It's not a threat."

"What is it then?"

I met his eyes.

In seven years, I had looked into them countless times, hoping to see even a trace of panic. But there had never been any. He had always been certain I would not leave.

"It means," I said, "you don't have to put yourself in a difficult position anymore."

Tristan stared at me, his voice low. "Don't let your emotions do the thinking for you."

"I'm not."

"Victoria." He set the soup down on the entry cabinet. "Get some rest. I'll pick you up tomorrow to have dinner at my mother's place. She wants to see you."