Chapter 3
I picked up the coffee cup and replied, "He doesn't eat cilantro or scallions."
"That's right, I know," Vera said with a soft laugh, covering her mouth. "Nolan hates carrots, too. His parents forced him to eat them when he was little, so now he just scowls whenever he sees one."
She really did know everything about him.
I set my cup down and asked, "Vera, you invited me here, not just to ask about his eating habits, right?"
Her smile paused for a moment, then slowly widened.
Vera replied, "Clara, you really are sharp."
She leaned back in the chair, crossed her legs, and dropped the act.
She continued, "Let me be straight with you.
"Clara, don't you think there's nothing left between you and Nolan now?"
I asked, "What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I mean," Vera said, tilting her head. "The love between you two is long gone. Why keep holding on? Wouldn't it be better to let him go with some dignity?"
I asked, "So you want me to divorce him?"
Vera corrected me, "I'm helping you break free. You do nothing all day. You don't have any kids and can't even help Nolan. What's the point of this?"
I clenched my fists and shot back, "Who the hell do you think you are?"
I stared at her and snapped, "As long as I don't sign the divorce papers, you'll always be the ones kept in the dark. You and your kid, neither of you will ever be recognized."
Her smile froze for a moment.
After a moment, as if she suddenly remembered something, she let out a mocking laugh.
She sneered, "So confident? You went to Mirror Lake Villa that day, right?"
My heart skipped a beat.
She put her cup down, her fingers tracing the rim.
She continued, "It's quite a pity. Nolan said your kid and Jonas's birthdays are only six hours apart."
She curled her lips into a smile, her tone light and breezy, like just chatting about the weather.
She added, "When Jonas acts up, I can't even bring myself to scold him. I'm just lucky, even God seems to favor me."
She stood up and picked up her bag. Then she walked over to me and bent down to whisper something in my ear.
"Clara, you're just an unlucky woman," she whispered.
The sound of her high heels faded away.
I just sat there, motionless.
Six hours, just six hours apart. On the same day, in the same military hospital?
On the fourth night, Peyton called me, her voice full of anger.
She said, "Clara, your marriage certificate with Nolan is fake."
I thought I had heard it wrong.
I stammered, "What do you mean?"
Peyton replied, "There's no record of your marriage in the government system. But there is a divorce record.
"Two years ago, Nolan forged your signature and processed the divorce all on his own.
"Clara, you are no longer husband and wife."
My phone slipped from my hand and hit the ground, the screen spiderwebbing with cracks.
The next morning, Nolan got up at six o'clock as usual, dressed in a military uniform, and ate the breakfast I had made for him.
He said, "I might have a military dinner tonight, so don't wait up for me."
I replied, "Okay."
He walked to the door, hugged me, and kissed me gently on the forehead.
He said softly, "Clara, I know these days have been tough on you. I'll make it up to you."
I just smiled and said nothing.
After he left, I found a supermarket receipt in the cloakroom.
It was involved in imported toys, children's vitamins, and dinosaur cookies.
My phone rang. It was Peyton.
She said, "I found out. Her name is Vera. The Mirror Lake Villa is registered under her name, but the payment for the house came from a hidden account of Nolan.
"And there's one more thing."
Then her tone shifted.
She continued, "I checked the hospital records from back then. Vera gave birth at the same hospital four years ago.
"You two were discharged one after the other. Clara, her kid was born just six hours after yours."
I stared at the wedding photo on the wall. Nolan was in his military uniform, smiling so gently.
Just six hours apart, and we were at the same hospital.
My baby didn't make it, and her kid was four years old this year.
"Peyton," I said.
Peyton replied, "Yeah?"
I asked, "Can you help me look into the kid's birth certificate?"
Peyton asked, "Are you sure?"
"That's exactly why I need to see the evidence with my own eyes," I said.
I closed my eyes. It had been four years. But what if my kid never really died?
Peyton pulled some strings for me and got her hands on Vera's son's medical records from the military hospital.
There was a cheek swab sample on file.
I went to another lab on my own, got my blood drawn, and had a paternity test done.
It would take five to seven business days for the results.
During those seven days, I kept up with the usual routine, cooking, doing laundry, and waiting for Nolan to come home.
He had been in a good mood lately.
On Wednesday, he came back early for the first time.
Holding a bunch of roses in his hand, he said, "Next Saturday is your birthday. I want to invite our family and friends to come here."