Chapter 2
The air was thick with the earthy scent of rain and mud.
Cynthia Grant hopped onto Caleb's shoes and wrapped her arms around his neck.
She pouted, "The baby and I have been waiting for you forever!
"You're way too late! You have to buy me a present to make it up to me!"
Caleb couldn't help but smile at her antics.
"Alright, there are some gorgeous jewelry sets at the Westminster Auction House. I'll have someone bid on them for you," he said, his tone gentle.
I was rooted to the spot, unable to move.
I watched in a daze as Caleb kissed Cynthia, chasing after her lips even when she tried to pull away.
It hit me then that we hadn't been that close in ages.
Ever since our wedding, we hadn't kissed, not even once.
The most intimate thing we ever did was a peck on the cheek.
I pulled out the last match.
Even the icy rain couldn't clear the fog in my mind.
What point in my life could I go back to now?
Caleb's betrayal was already a done deal.
But my mom's cancer was finally under control.
She wouldn't have to suffer before dying like she did the first time I went back.
Did I need to go back again?
The nurses next to me watched the loving couple and whispered to each other.
"I heard that to make Miss Grant feel safe, they sleep in the same bed every night, hoping she'll get pregnant sooner."
"And last time, when Miss Grant called Mr. Hart a fuckboy, he freaked out, made a bunch of doctors scrub him down with alcohol, and even got facials to 'clean up' his skin."
"That's not all! I heard Miss Grant liked the villa where Mrs. Hart used to live, so he said he needed to sell it to raise some money and put Mrs. Hart in a place near the hospital."
I shuddered all over.
A year ago, Caleb said his company needed to raise funds for expansion.
He took out a loan from the bank, but it still wasn't enough.
I couldn't stand seeing him having to drink at those business dinners to scrape together some money. So I suggested selling our villa.
We rented a place near the hospital so I could take care of my mom more easily.
The villa was our first home after our wedding. Part of me couldn't let go of it.
Caleb pulled me into his arms and promised that once we got the money back, he'd buy me a mansion.
I couldn't bear to see him work himself to the bone.
So I used the inheritance my dad left me to cover our expenses, and I got a job myself.
The nurses' voices drifted over as they walked by.
"I heard he also opened a flower shop for her across the street from the hospital," one of them said.
I stared at the flower shop across the street, which was still open with the rain pouring down.
I forced a bitter smile, and the tears kept coming.
Every morning, I found myself buying a bouquet from that shop.
The shop assistant told me the owner was good friends with Caleb.
Every time I went, she'd always knock a few dollars off for me.
When Caleb found out, his eyes darted away, and he admitted it vaguely.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The shop assistant spotted me right away.
"Didn't you come by this morning? Looking to grab another bouquet?" she said.
I took in the shop's decor.
Every detail felt so familiar: the lighting, the sink, and even where the cooler was.
Back when we first started dating, Caleb asked me what I'd do if money didn't matter. I told him I'd open a flower shop.
I couldn't wait to show him a whole stack of design sketches I'd been working on.
That had been my dream since I was in middle school.
My dad always said I wasn't being serious about life, but Caleb helped me tweak and improve my sketches.
After graduation, I had to mingle with the other wives in our circle.
I had to manage the domestic staff, play hostess at home, and still keep up with my job.
I didn't have the energy for anything else.
A wave of anger welled up in my throat, choking me.
The shop assistant suddenly spoke, "Did you get on the wrong side of my boss or something?
"You should probably apologize to her. Otherwise, having a patient breathe in flowers treated with weird chemicals every day can't be good for their health!"
I clenched my palm so hard that my nails dug into the skin.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
I wondered what she meant by "flowers treated with weird chemicals."
The girl glanced at the camera on the wall and then pulled me aside to a quiet corner.
"Those flowers make people prone to allergies.
"I heard from my boss that you tried to drug her husband and get pregnant. Good thing he was smart enough to trick you with a fake marriage certificate.
"He even paid someone to cause an accident so you'd miscarry.
"But honestly, I don't think you're that kind of person. You always bring me homemade desserts every day," she told me.
The ultrasound report flashed through my mind, and I grabbed the shop assistant's hand.
"Last May, was your boss vacationing in Sylvania?" I asked.
The shop assistant nodded. "Yeah. Her husband takes her abroad every month to make her happy.
"I heard that after college, he met her at a nightclub and brought her home. She's been living with him ever since."
My vision kept going black.
I had to steady myself against the wall.
Last April, I was in a car accident.
And the baby, whom I had finally conceived through IVF after thousands of fertility shots, was gone.
I called Caleb a hundred times.
He was in Sylvania, saying his business partner was impossible to deal with and wouldn't give in. The next time I saw him was after I'd finished my post-miscarriage recovery.
I broke down in tears, looking at him and demanding, "Why weren't you there for me when I needed you most?"
I fell into a deep depression, but he stayed by my side, helping me slowly recover.
It was like he was trying to atone for what he'd done, refusing to leave me alone for even a moment.
Now, it finally hit me.
He'd been with Cynthia all along.
And I never saw it coming.
I pulled out my phone and opened the marriage certificate at the top of my Instagram feed.
I sent it to a friend.
[It's fake. Seriously, who bothers with fake marriage certificates these days?] My friend's message was the final nail in the coffin.
All those memories were me fooling myself, setting myself up for heartbreak.
Even the last shred of hope inside me disappeared. I finally knew which moment I needed to return to.