Chapter 2
Those posts revealed a deeply affectionate, tormented man who had been devoted to Charlize Dangler for ten years.
The latest post was a photo of the Northern Lights with the caption: [I proposed to her in the way she loved most, but she wasn't the one I proposed to.]
Some people called him a scumbag in the comments.
But most people were wishing him well. [Bro, you've been through so much. I hope you find happiness.]
I couldn't accept that I, Claudia Schenk, was just a stand-in for Charlize Dangler. I ended up hitting Isembert.
In the past, when I was watching TV dramas, I used to think that if a man had a change of heart, it was best just to ditch him.
Throwing a fit and crying nonstop was just too undignified.
Likewise, sleeping in the same bed but having different aspirations was just too pathetic.
But when it happened to me, I realized it wasn't that simple at all.
If I loved him, it was because I believed he was worthy of my love.
How could I bring myself to be cruel to someone worthy of my love?
My second slap grazed Isembert's cheek and struck the bookshelf.
One of my fingernails got caught and was pried open. Blood started oozing out under my nail.
Despite the horrific injury, I felt no pain.
Without a word, he proceeded to bandage my bleeding finger.
I looked at his swollen cheek, filled with rage and hatred. And an inexplicable sense of pity.
Later, his friends and subordinates tried to persuade me.
They said that was all in the past, and it didn't even qualify as emotional infidelity.
After so many people tried to persuade me, I even started to think that perhaps I was the one in the wrong.
Isembert came by every day, bringing takeout haute cuisine, custom-designed bouquets, and anything else he thought I might need. There was a constant stream of deliveries.
When I ignored him, he would put the things down, complete the household chores, and leave quietly.
But then, one day, I smashed him with a thermos in front of my coworkers and left him bleeding profusely.
He only covered his wound and looked at me wordlessly with red-rimmed eyes.
I broke down totally at that point. "Isem, I'm sorry."
In the end, we reconciled.
Since then, he seemed to love me even more than before.
He deleted that post and wiped his account clean. It was as if Charlize had never existed.
I thought that if in three years, I was able to occupy a corner of his heart, then in ten or twenty years, I could completely possess him.
But reality proved that the heart cannot be divided into two.
What belonged to Charlize could never be mine.
In the five years I was with him, Charlize had gone from being the object of his secret affection to his best friend.
*****
Isembert didn't reply to my message, nor did he return home.
Perhaps it was because my illness wasn't terminal, or perhaps because he had finally let go of someone he should have let go of long ago.
Strangely enough, I slept very well on this night.
*****
The next morning, Isembert showed up in the kitchen surprisingly early. He seemed to be in a good mood as he set out breakfast.
"You're up? Charlize said the soy milk smoothie from this place is quite good, so she told me to buy an extra serving for you."
I looked at the breakfast on the table, and felt a dull ache in my stomach.
"Isembert, I'll be putting this property on the market soon. Pack up your things as soon as possible," I told him impassively.
Isembert was startled by my announcement.
But in the next second, he cocked an eyebrow with a dismissive laugh.
"Was it because I didn't go with you to the hospital yesterday?
"Or was it because of the wefie of Charlize and me?" he asked sarcastically.
He knew full well that these things would hurt me, but he did them anyway.
It was like the night I had a high fever that wouldn't break. Instead of staying by my side, he was so worried about Charlize that he booked an overnight flight to travel thousands of miles just because she couldn't sleep.
Or like how he remembered Charlize's sweet tooth and aversion to spicy food, yet forgot that I was allergic to soy milk.
He reached out and pulled me close. His warm breath tickled my ear as he murmured, "I only see her as a good friend. Don't read too much into it, okay?"
For once, he was surprisingly gentle.
After Charlize returned from overseas, I did everything I could to hold onto Isembert.
I wore the leather pants and short skirts she liked and even started smoking like her.
Once, an accidental injury earned me Isembert's constant, tireless attention.
I finally found a way to get him to spend more time with me.
But how could someone who truly loved you allow you to get hurt time and time again?
Isembert turned around and handed me the soy milk smoothie.
"Come on, drink up. It's really good," he said.
When he handed it to me, he didn't even look at me.
He was certain I would let him sweet-talk me into what he wanted just like in the past.
He assumed he could fool me time and again with his phony act of affection.
I didn't extend my hand to take the drink. When it fell to the floor, the smoothie splashed all over him.
"Claudia!" Isembert shouted angrily.
"Isembert, I'm not asking for your opinion when I said I wanted to break up with you. I'm informing you."
That really pissed him off, and he snapped his head up from his dripping shirt. "Break up? Hmph!
"After leaving me, who are you going to be with? Who would want you?"
He suddenly slammed me against the wall and kissed my lips brusquely.
"Where on earth did you pick up this new trick?" he sneered.
The strong tobacco stench was so overpowering that it made me want to vomit.