Chapter 2
Seeing the shock on my face, Audrey let out a sigh.
"Blair Shaw is my cousin," Audrey said.
That's when it all made sense to me.
So the whole world already knew.
I was the only one who thought I was hiding it well.
That silly bit of pride I had left was completely shattered by her words.
I lowered my head, staring at the paper cup in my hand.
"Yeah, we broke up," I said.
"Don't be sad. It's all in the past now," Audrey said gently. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something else today."
She paused, as if searching for the right words.
The office was quiet, with only the hum of the air conditioner filling the silence.
"Claire, I've watched how you conduct yourself all these years," Audrey said. "You're dependable, honest, and a genuinely good person."
I had no idea what she was getting at, so I kept quiet and listened.
"It's you've had a rough life," she said.
Her words stabbed right into my heart.
I squeezed the paper cup so hard that it started to buckle under the pressure.
Audrey looked at me. Her gaze was a mix of pity and something I couldn't quite name.
"I know about your situation," she said. "Not being able to have kids is a huge thing for any woman.
"It's not something you can keep secret forever."
My nails dug into my palms. "Audrey, what are you trying to say?"
She let out another sigh, as if she'd finally made up her mind.
"My son, Michael, you've met him before," she said.
I nodded.
I'd seen him once at the office party. He was a tall, quiet guy sitting off in the corner. He hardly spoke to anyone.
"He has his own problems," Audrey said. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "He can't ever be a dad."
I looked up at her, completely stunned.
"All we want is for him to have someone by his side, to live a steady, peaceful life," she said. She fixed her gaze on me, her eyes intense. "Claire, you're a good person, and I know you inside out.
"I know this might sound sudden, and may be a bit blunt.
"But you two were a perfect match."
Her words felt like they were dripping with poison.
So that was what it meant. Just patch two broken people together, and suddenly that was a perfect match.
Not because of personality.
Not because of love.
Just because we were both incomplete.
I almost wanted to laugh. I meant it.
The whole thing was so absurd that it felt like some kind of bad joke.
But I couldn't bring myself to smile.
It felt like my throat was stuffed with cotton.
Audrey kept talking, "Michael works at the city planning office. He has a stable job.
"The house and car are ready to go. If you decide to marry him, you won't have to worry about a thing.
"We won't rush you two. treat it like teaming up, getting through life together.
"At least, no one will dare gossip about you behind your back anymore."
That last line hit me right where it hurt.
That was right.
No one would dare gossip about me behind my back anymore.
All these years, I'd had enough of those looks: sympathy, curiosity, and contempt.
If getting married meant finding someone who truly understood me, and someone to retreat from the world with, that was not so bad after all.
Seeing the hope in Audrey's eyes, I suddenly felt exhausted.
I didn't have the strength to struggle anymore.
Fine. Let it be.
"Okay," I said.
Audrey froze for a second, then her face lit up with pure joy. "Really? You're saying yes?"
"Yeah," I replied.
I stared out the window. The sky was gray.
Guess I would find someone as broken as me, and we would muddle through life together.
Three days later, I met Michael, my husband, at the entrance of the courthouse.
The whole process was over in a flash.
It all happened so fast that it felt like I was dreaming.
We signed the papers and got the official stamp.
The marriage license was handed to me, and it felt almost hot in my hands.
And like that, Michael and I were legally married.
There was no conversation between us.
He only spoke three times from start to finish.
"Hi, I'm Michael."
"Sign here."
"Let's go."
He was taller than Andrew.
With those broad shoulders and a simple white shirt paired with black pants, he stood out with a strikingly upright posture.
But his face gave nothing away.
He looked like a statue, cold and unmoving.
After we left the courthouse, he drove me home.
Some mellow instrumental music was playing in the car.
We didn't say a word the whole way.
When we got to my apartment building, he pulled over and stopped the car.
"I'll come help you move tomorrow," he said.
"No need. I don't have much stuff. I can do it myself," I replied.
He looked at me, his gaze deep and unreadable. "My mom asked me to."
With that, he started the car and drove off.
I realized this was all Audrey's doing.
Without her, there was nothing tying us together.