Chapter 4
Andrew was in town for a meeting, and as his car passed the department store, he found himself telling the driver to stop, almost without thinking.
And then he saw the woman he knew so well, yet now felt like a stranger.
Grace was sitting at her sewing machine, head down, completely absorbed in her work.
Her fingers moved with practiced ease over the fabric, and in the golden glow of the setting sun, her profile was cast in a gentle, almost ethereal light.
She was no longer the woman who always trailed behind him, tiptoeing around and worried about his mood.
There was a glow about her now, a confidence and calm he'd never seen before. She was dazzling, almost shining.
He saw her chatting with customers, her smile warm and confident.
He saw her weaving through the piles of fabric, moving with a newfound ease and purpose.
He saw her carefully tuck the money she'd earned into her pocket, her face lit up with genuine satisfaction.
Andrew suddenly found himself overwhelmed by a feeling he couldn't quite put into words, a mix of emotions that caught him off guard.
It was unfamiliar, something he'd never felt before.
He'd always thought that without him, Grace wouldn't be able to survive.
He'd even gotten ready to lend her a hand in secret if she ever hit rock bottom, just because they'd once been married.
But now, it was clear she didn't need him at all.
She wasn't just surviving; she was thriving.
She was doing even better than she ever had when she was with him.
"Captain Goodwin, are we leaving now?" Andrew's driver Tommy asked softly.
Andrew snapped back to reality, his throat feeling dry.
"Let's go," he said in a low voice.
The jeep started up again and slowly pulled away.
Andrew watched in the rearview mirror as Grace's small figure grew smaller and smaller, until she finally disappeared into the crowd.
He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
He couldn't help but replay Grace's words from yesterday in his mind.
"Andrew, remember this, you were the one who turned your back on me."
At the time, he just thought it was absurd and got angry. Now, though, her words felt like a sharp thorn, stabbing right into his heart.
By the time Andrew got back to the military compound, it was already dark.
The lights were on at home, and the smell of food drifted out from the kitchen.
He pushed the door open and saw Rachel bustling around in the kitchen.
"Andrew, you're back!" Rachel called out, hurrying over with a spatula still in her hand. "I saw Helen wasn't feeling well, so I came over to help out with dinner. Go wash up. It'll be ready soon."
She gave him a gentle, caring smile, her apron tied neatly around her waist, looking every bit the perfect hostess.
Back then, Andrew would've felt warm inside.
But today, for some reason, he couldn't help but feel oddly annoyed.
Helen came out of her room, and as soon as she saw him, her face lit up with a big smile. "Andrew, you're back! Come on, dinner's ready. Rachel made your favorite braised beef today!"
At the dinner table, Helen and Rachel were bantering back and forth, filling the room with laughter and warmth.
"Andrew, now that that jinx is finally out of our lives, we can have some peace at home. You and Rachel really ought to move things along," Helen said, dropping the biggest piece of braised beef into Andrew's plate.
Rachel's cheeks flushed as she ducked her head shyly. "Helen, what are you saying... Andrew just got divorced..."
"Divorced? That's great! Now everything's clean and settled!" Helen waved her hand dismissively. "A country girl like her could never be good enough for Andrew. Rachel's so well-educated and sensible, has a decent job. You're the perfect pair!"
Andrew set down his fork, saying nothing.
He stared at the glossy braised beef in front of him, and suddenly, Grace's face flashed through his mind.
Grace used to make braised beef for him, too.
Her braised beef was always rich but never greasy, so tender it melted in his mouth.
But he'd never once told her how good it was.
He always took it for granted that she'd do these things for him.
"Andrew, why aren't you eating? Is it not to your taste?" Rachel asked, her voice full of concern.
"No," Andrew replied, picking up his fork and taking a bite of the beef.
It was way too oily.
It was nothing like the flavor he remembered.
"Andrew, why don't you talk to your unit and see if you can get Rachel working by your side? It's not easy for a girl like her to be stuck at the clinic," Helen said, fussing over them as usual.
"That's not up to me. The higher-ups make those decisions," Andrew replied, his voice cold and distant.
Helen was taken aback, not expecting her son to talk to her like that.
Rachel's face went pale, but she forced a smile and tried to smooth things over. "Helen, it's really fine.
"I'm fine at the clinic, really. It's not that hard, and I like helping the soldiers. Andrew's busy enough as it is. Let's not make things harder for him."
She was so mature and considerate.
But as Andrew looked at her, he couldn't help but picture Grace earlier that afternoon, working hard and earning her own living at the department store.
Suddenly, everything in front of him felt unbearably fake and glaring.
"I'm done. You two go ahead," Andrew said.
He stood up, ignoring the stunned looks on Helen and Rachel's faces, and walked straight into his room, closing the door behind him.
After Grace left, the house didn't feel any more peaceful.
Instead, it just felt even more suffocating.