Chapter 4

After Irene was done throwing a fit, she dismissed the caregivers.

As she walked out, she glanced at me and said, “Since you think you’re so capable, you can fend for yourself from now on.

“I hope you don’t come crawling to Peter for help.”

With no one to look after me, I could not do much.

I had to crawl into my wheelchair by myself when getting out of bed. I even slipped while taking a shower.

Three days later, I fell in the washroom and broke my arm.

When I was taken to the hospital, they needed a family member to sign the consent form for the surgery.

Only then did Irene rush over.

Perhaps when she saw how pale my face was, she realized what she had done and guilt consumed her.

She said apologetically, “I was just so angry last time. I’m sorry, honey. I was—”

“It’s fine.” I cut her off.

Whatever explanation she had prepared died in her throat.

She looked at me in confusion, as if she had not expected me to be so calm.

When I brought up divorce, she thought I was being unreasonable.

When I pushed Peter down, she thought I was jealous.

Perhaps she assumed that this time, I would make a scene just like before.

“You’ve finally come around?” she asked cautiously.

I nodded and said casually, “You’ve done more than enough for me all these years. You’re right. I can’t hold you back just because I saved your life.”

Over the past few days, I had come to fully understand the truth about my situation and her true feelings.

We had been together for more than twenty years. But the five years I spent in a coma were enough to ruin everything.

Irene was not happy. She felt conflicted.

She said quietly, “Frederick, don’t be like this.”

During my days in the hospital, she stayed by my side at all times.

She took on the role of a caregiver and looked after every part of my daily needs with meticulous care.

She even chatted with me and painted pictures of our future together.

“Once you’re back on your feet, we’ll go to Nordheim.

“Glacieland too! The northern lights there are gorgeous.”

I looked at her calmly.

I had already seen every place she mentioned. They were all over her social media. There were the scenery shots, the couple photos, and even pictures of their home.

In the three years she had been with Peter, she had already lived every future she was creating for me at this moment.

I grew tired of the fake conversations, the lies, and the pretense.

While she was happily fabricating our future together, I interrupted her.

“Christmas is coming up. Will you come with me to see the Christmas tree in Central Square?

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

She agreed.

On Christmas Day, I went to Central Square at the time we had agreed upon.

After more than twenty years together, it was time for a proper goodbye.

The place was crowded. Even so, I spotted her at a glance.

Peter was standing beside her.

“Didn’t you promise me you’d get a divorce? We’ve been together for three years!

“Frederick is dead weight. How much longer are you going to drag him around?”

He was throwing a fit. He grabbed her hand and said, “Divorce him. Let him officiate our wedding.

“I’ve already picked the date. The fifteenth of next month.”

That was January fifteenth. It was the day when Irene and I had gotten trapped in the blizzard five years ago.

She did not agree, but I could see her hesitate.

Her hesitation was enough to tell me everything I needed to know.

The hope that she still loved me somewhere in her heart was gone entirely.

I looked down at the boarding information on my phone, pushed my wheelchair forward, and did not look back.