Chapter 2 · After Love Died Softly

Five years ago, Crestmoor was sweltering in the summer.

It was unbearably hot. The air conditioner in my apartment was broken, and James suggested I stay at his place for a few days.

After three years of dating, this was the first time he suggested I meet his folks.

I was so nervous, I made a special trip to the mall to pick out some presents.

That night, while he was in the shower, his phone was sitting on the table and the screen lit up.

It was a message from Chloe Wallace.

Chloe was his junior at school and had always looked up to him.

James told me she came from a tough background and was trying to make it on her own in Crestmoor, so he asked me to keep an eye on her.

I honestly did my best to look after her, treating her like my own kid sister.

The message read: [James, I'm at the hotel. Room 8306. When are you coming over?]

My head buzzed.

I tapped into their chat history, my fingers shaking uncontrollably.

The whole conversation was packed with suggestive texts.

He said she was like a helpless fawn that needed his protection.

She said he was the light in her life.

I scrolled further and saw screenshots of hotel bookings. Paid by James.

The date was that very night.

When he came out of the bathroom and saw me holding his phone, all the color drained from his face.

"Hannah, let me explain," he said.

I threw the phone at him. "Explain what? That you weren't even planning to come home tonight?"

He grabbed my hand, desperate to apologize. "I messed up, Hannah. I wasn't thinking straight.

"There's nothing going on between us, I swear. I just got drunk..."

I pointed at the message. "So you were about to go drink with her right now?"

He was at a loss for words.

I tossed all his things out the door.

"Get out!" I screamed.

He collapsed to his knees, clutching my leg and refusing to let go. "Hannah, I love you. You're the one I want to marry. Just give me one more chance. Just one. I swear it's the last time."

I softened. I believed that "last time."

And then came the second time. The third time.

Behind my back, he never really cut her off.

Every time I caught him, it was the same cycle. Explosive fights, him kneeling, crying, begging me to forgive him.

I turned into someone I barely recognized. Checking his phone every day. Questioning where he'd been.

The final straw was when I found Chloe's earring in his car.

I didn't say a word. I went home and started packing.

When he came back, I was dragging my suitcase toward the door.

He panicked. "Hannah, what are you doing?"

"Going home," I said. "James, we're done."

He frowned, irritation flashing across his face. "What is this now? I already told you there's nothing going on. What more do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything."

I looked him straight in the eye and said, "I'm done with you."

With that, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out, never looking back.

After that, I never saw him again.

Until yesterday.

Maxwell called. "Are you off work yet? I'll come pick you up."

"Yeah," I replied.

Once I was done, I walked out of the office.

Maxwell's car was waiting at the school gate.

Another person was standing by the car.

It was James.

When he saw me, he came right over.

"We need to talk," he said.

Maxwell pushed open the car door, stepped in front of me, blocking me from James.

"Mr. Carter, my wife has nothing to do with you," he said, his tone icy.

James shot Maxwell a hostile look.

"This is between us. What's it got to do with you?" he snapped.

"She's my wife," Maxwell replied, his voice cold and unyielding. "Anything that concerns her concerns me."

James let out a cold laugh. "So you're the sucker she found when she went back home? Do you even know who she really was?"

Maxwell's brows furrowed.

I stepped out from behind him and said, "James, what are you trying to do?"

"I just want an answer," he said, locking eyes with me. "Why did you leave back then? Was it really just because of our fight? Or had you already found someone else?"

Every word out of his mouth felt like a dull knife digging into my old wounds.

I stared at his face, the face I'd loved for three years, and hated for years too.

Now, all that was left is just how ridiculous this all is.

Chapter 2

Five years ago, Crestmoor was sweltering in the summer.

It was unbearably hot. The air conditioner in my apartment was broken, and James suggested I stay at his place for a few days.

After three years of dating, this was the first time he suggested I meet his folks.

I was so nervous, I made a special trip to the mall to pick out some presents.

That night, while he was in the shower, his phone was sitting on the table and the screen lit up.

It was a message from Chloe Wallace.

Chloe was his junior at school and had always looked up to him.

James told me she came from a tough background and was trying to make it on her own in Crestmoor, so he asked me to keep an eye on her.

I honestly did my best to look after her, treating her like my own kid sister.

The message read: [James, I'm at the hotel. Room 8306. When are you coming over?]

My head buzzed.

I tapped into their chat history, my fingers shaking uncontrollably.

The whole conversation was packed with suggestive texts.

He said she was like a helpless fawn that needed his protection.

She said he was the light in her life.

I scrolled further and saw screenshots of hotel bookings. Paid by James.

The date was that very night.

When he came out of the bathroom and saw me holding his phone, all the color drained from his face.

"Hannah, let me explain," he said.

I threw the phone at him. "Explain what? That you weren't even planning to come home tonight?"

He grabbed my hand, desperate to apologize. "I messed up, Hannah. I wasn't thinking straight.

"There's nothing going on between us, I swear. I just got drunk..."

I pointed at the message. "So you were about to go drink with her right now?"

He was at a loss for words.

I tossed all his things out the door.

"Get out!" I screamed.

He collapsed to his knees, clutching my leg and refusing to let go. "Hannah, I love you. You're the one I want to marry. Just give me one more chance. Just one. I swear it's the last time."

I softened. I believed that "last time."

And then came the second time. The third time.

Behind my back, he never really cut her off.

Every time I caught him, it was the same cycle. Explosive fights, him kneeling, crying, begging me to forgive him.

I turned into someone I barely recognized. Checking his phone every day. Questioning where he'd been.

The final straw was when I found Chloe's earring in his car.

I didn't say a word. I went home and started packing.

When he came back, I was dragging my suitcase toward the door.

He panicked. "Hannah, what are you doing?"

"Going home," I said. "James, we're done."

He frowned, irritation flashing across his face. "What is this now? I already told you there's nothing going on. What more do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything."

I looked him straight in the eye and said, "I'm done with you."

With that, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out, never looking back.

After that, I never saw him again.

Until yesterday.

Maxwell called. "Are you off work yet? I'll come pick you up."

"Yeah," I replied.

Once I was done, I walked out of the office.

Maxwell's car was waiting at the school gate.

Another person was standing by the car.

It was James.

When he saw me, he came right over.

"We need to talk," he said.

Maxwell pushed open the car door, stepped in front of me, blocking me from James.

"Mr. Carter, my wife has nothing to do with you," he said, his tone icy.

James shot Maxwell a hostile look.

"This is between us. What's it got to do with you?" he snapped.

"She's my wife," Maxwell replied, his voice cold and unyielding. "Anything that concerns her concerns me."

James let out a cold laugh. "So you're the sucker she found when she went back home? Do you even know who she really was?"

Maxwell's brows furrowed.

I stepped out from behind him and said, "James, what are you trying to do?"

"I just want an answer," he said, locking eyes with me. "Why did you leave back then? Was it really just because of our fight? Or had you already found someone else?"

Every word out of his mouth felt like a dull knife digging into my old wounds.

I stared at his face, the face I'd loved for three years, and hated for years too.

Now, all that was left is just how ridiculous this all is.