Chapter 2

I was stunned. I really was dead tired that day. After working overtime until 2 a.m. the night before, I was barely keeping my eyes open in the morning, running on pure willpower. But I never told anyone about it.

Later, I found out he'd seen me in the break room the night before, downing three cups of instant coffee one after another.

That little detail really touched me.

After we got together, I asked him, "How did you know I needed coffee that day?"

He said, "You had dark circles under your eyes, and you kept rubbing them during the meeting."

I said, "You're so thoughtful?"

He replied, "Only for you."

Thinking about it now, maybe he really meant what he had said.

But in the end, Dustin's thoughtfulness was given to someone else.

On the third day after Giselle came back, Dustin finally called me.

The phone rang while I was packing up my things. Everything I'd accumulated over five years fit into a single 28-inch suitcase. Turned out, all the space I ever had in this home was just that little corner.

I picked up the call.

"Hello?"

His voice sounded tired, like he hadn't slept well in days.

"I'll be home for dinner tonight."

"Okay."

He paused for a moment, then said, "Gigi's back. We met up."

"I know."

He went quiet again.

"You're not going to ask anything?"

What was I supposed to ask? Why did she come back? What did you two talk about? Or did you still love her?

But I didn't ask.

"Let's talk when you get back," I said.

After hanging up, I just stood there, staring at the suitcase for a long time.

I had spent five years, more than 1,800 days and nights, waking up at 6:30 every morning to make breakfast, waiting late into the night for dinner, accompanying him to social dinners every weekend, and staying by his mother’s side during every hospitalization, how much was all of that worth?

I didn't know.

But I did know one thing. None of it could even earn me a single message from him.

His first love was back, and he went to pick her up at the airport. He spent three days with her. In those three days, he didn't call me once, didn't send me a single message.

I wasn't even the last to find out.

I was the one who only learned about it while scrolling through my feed.

Dustin came home at eight that night.

When he opened the door, I was sitting on the couch, the divorce papers laid out in front of me. He changed his shoes and walked over, and when he saw the papers, he froze.

"What's this?"

"It's the divorce papers," I said. "Take a look. If everything's fine, just sign."

He stood there, still holding a bag. It was a box of desserts he'd picked up from my favorite shop, the one he always bought from whenever he passed by.

He set the bag down on the coffee table and looked at me.

"Why?"

I looked into his eyes. I'd spent five years gazing into them. Once, I thought they were the most beautiful thing in the world. Now, they didn't seem so special anymore.

"Giselle's back," I said.

He said, "What's that got to do with us?"

I said, "You went to pick her up."

He said, "Yeah, I picked her up. She's just an old classmate. Is that a big deal?"

I said, "You were with her for three days."

He replied, "She just got back and needed someone to help her get settled. I was just lending a hand..."

"Did you arrange a hotel for her?" I cut him off.

He hesitated for a moment.

"Did you help her with her luggage?"

His expression changed.

"Did you have dinner with her? Did you go shopping with her? Did you listen to her talk about how life's been for her these past seven years?"

He stayed silent.

I got up and walked right up to him.

"Dustin, you spent three days with her. Not a single call, not a single text, did you even think of me?"

His lips moved, but he couldn't get a word out.

"I only found out you went to pick her up when I was scrolling through my feed," I said. "Do you have any idea what that feels like? My own husband picking up another woman, and I had to learn about it from social media, not even from you?"

He said, "I'm sorry, I..."

"You don't need to apologize," I said. "You don't owe me anything. You just don't love me, that's it."

His eyes grew misty.

"I love you."

I let out a small laugh.

"You love her."

*****

That night, he didn't sign the papers.

He said he needed time to think. I told him, "Go ahead and think. There's a 30-day cooling-off period, so you've got plenty of time."

He asked where I was staying. I said, "At a friend's place, it's all set." He offered to give me a ride, but I just shook my head. "No need."

As I pulled my 28-inch suitcase out the door, I looked back at the place I'd called home for five years.

Our wedding photo was still on the entryway cabinet, both of us smiling like we had the world. Beside it sat a vase with three lilies he'd bought last week, still fresh, not even starting to wilt.

He didn't come after me.

I closed the door and stepped into the elevator.

As the elevator doors closed, I finally let out a breath I'd been holding for years.

Five years. At last, I was done waiting for him.

The day I moved into my bestie's place, she was in the kitchen cooking.

She paused for a second when she saw me dragging my suitcase in, but didn't ask anything. She just took my suitcase, made me sit on the couch, and shoved a cup of hot water into my hands.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No."

She went to the kitchen, scooped up a bowl of soup, brought it over, and sat across from me, making sure I ate it up.