Chapter 1

When Danny Gibson's depression came back, I looked after him for five years.

During those years, to keep him from trying to take his own life, I ended up with some ugly scars on my arms.

He told me over and over again, "Camila, once I'm better, we'll get married."

Finally, he recovered.

I was so excited, holding the wedding plans as I went to find him.

But just as I arrived, I overheard his buddy asking, "You love Edith so much, so why did you insist on keeping Camila around back then?"

Edith Fletcher was Danny's childhood friend, and she'd confessed her feelings to him more times than I could count, but he always turned her down.

After a long silence, Danny finally said, "When my depression hit, I couldn't even control myself. How could I bear to let Edith get hurt because of me?"

I kept quiet and didn't say a word.

I threw away the wedding plans and booked the earliest flight out of Alexinburg.

*****

While I was waiting in the airport lounge, Danny called.

He asked, "Camila, where are you? Why haven't you come back yet?"

His voice was cool, but I could still hear the longing in it.

For the past five years, we had been together day in and day out. If I were away from him for more than ten minutes, he'd freak out.

Sometimes, he would even hurt himself or slam his head against the wall.

Even after he recovered, he still couldn't help but rely on me, almost instinctively.

Seeing that I still hadn't come back, he said again, "I miss you."

Back then, whenever Danny said that, no matter what I was doing, I'd drop everything and rush back to him in a heartbeat.

This time, with the airport announcements echoing around me, I just answered calmly, "I'm at the airport. I'm going home."

There was a pause, then Danny gave a wry laugh. "Even if your parents agreed to hand over the paperwork, you don't have to rush back for it. We can make it official after the wedding."

My family never approved of my relationship with Danny.

I was the only daughter.

Even though the Gibson family was powerful in Alexinburg, Danny had been haunted by the trauma of being kidnapped as a child.

Even after he got better, he still needed medication to keep things under control.

So for those five years, I wasn't just looking after Danny. I was also constantly juggling things with my family.

Early this year, my family finally loosened up. They told me to come home and grab the paperwork, quietly giving their blessing to our marriage.

But I suddenly didn't want to get married anymore.

Listening to the way he still sounded so attached, that line of his kept echoing in my head. "How could I bear to let her get hurt because of me?"

Without thinking, I reached for the scars on my arm. The rough, uneven texture made all those memories come rushing back.

That was when his depression was at its worst. He couldn't control himself, desperate to find something sharp to hurt himself with.

One time, when I tried to stop him, he shoved me aside, and my arm caught the edge of the cabinet, tearing the skin open.

Blood was everywhere. I had to get eight stitches to close it up.

Whenever it rained or the wind picked up, those scars would start to itch, reminding me of everything I'd been through.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I heard Danny on the other end asking when I'd be back.

Right then, the boarding call came over the loudspeakers.

I stood up and said to him, "Danny, let's break up."

Then I blocked Danny on WhatsApp.

I didn't have much luggage.

For the past five years, I practically lived in the hospital, surviving on cafeteria food and sleeping in spare rooms to take care of Danny.

When I finally walked through the door at home, my mom burst into tears the second she saw me.

"How did you get so skinny?" she asked, her voice trembling with concern.

She ran her fingers over my bony hand, then touched my face, starting to say something several times but always stopping herself.

I could tell she wanted to let me have it.

For Danny, I barely slept more than six hours a night, lost touch with everyone, and didn't come home, not even once.

Seeing all the new wrinkles and gray hair on my parents' faces, my eyes filled with tears. I squeezed their hands and said, "Mom, Dad, I'm sorry."

"It's alright. You're home now, and that's all that matters," my mother said softly.

"As soon as your dad heard you were coming home, he rushed out to the night market and picked up some chicken and steak. He made your favorite beef steak," she added.

She took my hand and led me inside. As she turned away, I saw her quietly wipe a tear from her eye.

During dinner, my usually quiet dad suddenly asked, "Didn't you say Danny was better? Why didn't he come back with you?"

I froze, the beef steak still in my fork.

Before I could get a word out, my mom cut in. "Your dad and I aren't trying to butt in, but we've talked to some specialists.

"Danny's condition is a lifelong struggle, and when it flares up, it's really tough to manage.

"So your dad and I figured, if you're set on marrying him, we'll sell the old house and move to Alexinburg with you.

"That way, if anything ever comes up, we'll be right there to look out for you."