Chapter 2

I took the initiative and dialed Amelia’s phone number.

The call connected.

“Amelia, we’ve already gotten div—”

“Sorry, I’m not her.”

It was Austin.

“And you are?”

“Amelia’s friend.”

I fell silent for a few seconds.

“Is there something you need her for? She was packing her luggage all night yesterday and didn’t get any sleep.

“If it’s anything important, you can just tell me.”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

Just as I was about to hang up, Amelia’s voice came through from the other end.

“Who is it?”

“It seems to be... your husband.”

Amelia took the phone. “Nicholas, is something wrong?”

“Who is he?”

There was a long silence on the line.

“A friend.”

“Just a friend?”

“Just a friend. Don’t overthink it.”

“Are you coming back together?”

“Yeah. He’s not in good health, and since I’m a doctor, I can look after him a bit more.”

The sound of an airport announcement echoed in the background.

“Oh, by the way, don’t you like flowers?” she added. “I brought back some small flower saplings for you.”

Without waiting for a response, she hung up the phone.

I walked over to the balcony.

The flowerpots sat on the plant stand, their soil dry and cracked.

A gentle breeze blew past, kicking up dust.

This soil was long past being fit for planting anything.

My phone screen lit up with a message from Amelia. It was just three words:

“Boarding. Don’t disturb.”

She had sent messages like this three hundred and fifty-six times before.

Every time she didn’t feel like dealing with me, she would send those exact same words.

It was like that when Austin had his surgery, and it was still like that today.

I murmured softly to myself, “There won’t be a next time.”

At ten o’clock in the morning, Amelia returned.

She had cut her hair short. Though there were faint dark circles under her eyes, her overall aura had grown softer and gentler.

I stood frozen for a few seconds.

She let out a soft chuckle and slipped naturally into my arms.

“It’s only been three years—did you forget what I look like already?”

“Yeah.”

She nuzzled her face against my chest. “You’re such a heartless man... After I went through all the trouble of bringing you flower saplings, too.”

It was a single straight stem with a few scattered green leaves—not a flower in sight.

Clatter!

I looked toward the sound.

A white medicine bottle had fallen and was rolling across the floor.

Omeprazole—medication for stomach issues.

“Is it yours?”

“No, it’s... Austin’s.”

“Your friend?”

“Yeah.”

“Is he sick?”

“Yeah, a very serious illness. When the pain flares up, he can’t swallow a thing.”

“Why do you have his medicine on you?”

“I must have grabbed the wrong bottle.”

She was lying again.

Amelia took my hand and pulled me toward the balcony.

“Let’s not talk about that. Let me help you plant these flowers.”

Looking at the cracked, parched soil, she froze for a moment.

“It’s fine. I’ll ask Austin to bring over some fresh soil later.”

“Is your mother feeling better?”

“...She’s mostly recovered.”

“When are you free? You should take me over to visit her.”

Her grip on the sapling tightened slightly.

“Next time.”

Once again, she lied.

I didn’t say another word.

At eight o’clock in the evening, I received a call from the nursing home.

It was Amelia’s grandmother, Alessia.

After dinner, Amelia had said she was going out for a walk and hadn’t come home yet.

“Nicholas, Amelia left her phone here. Come over and pick it up.”

“Did she just go to visit you?”

“Yes, and she brought a friend with her, too.”

“Austin?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know him?”

“I knew him even before I met you. I practically watched that boy grow up.”

“Do you like him?”

“Of course I do! Anyone my granddaughter likes, I like.”

My throat tightened, and my adam’s apple bobbed.

“Alessia, since you like him so much, how about having him visit you often from now on?”

“No way!”

I froze for a second.

“Amelia wouldn’t have the heart to let him suffer! All those dirty, exhausting chores still have to be done by you.”

It felt as though something had lodged in my throat, choking the words right out of me.

Yet she was Amelia’s grandmother, not mine.

In our three years of marriage, I had taken care of her grandmother for all three years.

When she lay in bed unable to move, I was the one cleaning up after her and attending to her basic needs.

When she was bedridden and taking medicine, I was the one running around serving her hand and foot.

The fact that she could hold a coherent conversation now was all thanks to my painstaking efforts.

I had once called Amelia, begging her to come back.

She had simply replied, “Don’t I have you there?”

With that single sentence, I had treated her grandmother as if she were my own flesh and blood.

Later, when Alessia moved into a nursing home, Amelia had specifically called to interrogate and scold me for it.

Three years of selfless devotion, only to be met with the excuse that Amelia “couldn’t bear to let Austin suffer.”

“Alessia, it’s getting late. You should get some sleep.”

“Alright. Tomorrow’s my birthday—remember to tell Austin to come over for dinner, too.”

After hanging up, silence settled over the apartment once again.

At ten o’clock at night, Amelia finally returned home.

“Alessia said you left your phone at her place.”

Her movements as she changed her shoes came to a sudden halt.

“You already know?”

“Why did he go with you?”

“Don’t misunderstand. He was worried about Grandma, so I brought him along to visit her.”

“You brought him, but you didn’t bring me?”

“Don’t you see her all the time?”

“It’s different.”

She looked at me in surprise. “What’s so different about it?”

“The meaning is different.”

I was the one who voluntarily showed up on her doorstep.

He was the one Amelia personally chose to bring along.

They were completely different.

“Fine, fine... Let me off the hook, okay? We won’t argue anymore. From now on, everything will be done your way.”

Her face was full of compromise, acting as though I held all the authority.

In our three years of living apart, this was the phrase she had used most often with me.

Whatever needed to be bought for the house—I should decide.

Alessia’s medical condition—I should handle it.

Even the wedding ring that never made it onto her finger—I was left to deal with it on my own.