Chapter 1

By the second year of our marriage, I no longer worried about Norman working late all the time.

At a Sunday dinner, someone started teasing Norman.

They said, "Mr. Walker, you were willing to do anything for Dr. Sutton, even broke your leg chasing after her. But now it's Miss Lynn who's always around whenever you need her. What changed?"

Norman instinctively glanced at Emily, who was sitting in the corner, and frowned.

"Emily's not in great health. Claire's a doctor. She knows how to look after herself," he said.

Everyone got awkward, worried I'd flip the table like I used to.

But I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm a doctor. I can take care of myself."

And I didn't need a husband either.

Everyone thought I'd keep waiting for him to come back, like I always did.

But what they didn't know was that the divorce papers were already signed and tucked away under his favorite suit.

*****

The party ended awkwardly, everyone just wanting to get out of there. Norman was busy comforting Emily, who was sulking after being ignored, and didn't even spare me a glance.

I didn't lower myself to join the drama. I hailed a cab and went home alone. After washing up, I crashed into bed and fell asleep right away.

I woke up again, startled by the sound of the door unlocking.

I glanced at the digital clock on my nightstand. It was 3:30 in the morning.

Norman walked in, cold air clinging to him. He paused for a second, clearly surprised to see the dim bedside lamp still on.

"Still up?" he asked quietly. He kept his voice low while slipping off his shoes.

I closed the medical journal in my hand and said flatly, "Just woke up."

He breathed a sigh of relief and walked over, reaching out to touch my head, but I stood up to get some water, avoiding him.

His hand hung awkwardly in the air for a second before he pulled it back and started loosening his tie.

Norman said, "I was supposed to come home early to spend time with you, but something urgent came up at work, so I ended up working late again."

I took a sip of water and spotted a long hair clinging to his collar. Neither the color nor the length matched mine.

"Yeah, it's fine. Work comes first," I replied.

If this had been before, I would've stormed over and demanded to know why he smelled like women's perfume after a mission.

But now, I took the cold tomato soup I had made and poured it straight down the drain.

Norman watched me, his brows furrowing. "Claire, are you mad? As I said, it was a work thing. Emily had a plumbing emergency at her place.

"She lives alone, and her brother got into that accident because he was trying to save me. It's the middle of the night. I couldn't leave her hanging."

"I'm not mad," I said, turning on the faucet and rinsing my cup. "Did you get the plumbing sorted out?"

Norman blinked, clearly not expecting that. He hesitated before replying, "Yeah, it's fixed. She was freaked out and kept crying, so I stayed with her until she calmed down. That's why I got back so late."

"Oh, that's good," I said, drying my hands and turning to get back into bed.

I continued, "Next time something like this happens, you can call the property management or a repairman. After all, you're not the neighborhood handyman."

Norman froze, his voice flaring with anger. "Claire, could you stop with the attitude? Emily's brother died saving me! She's all alone in this city. I have to help her."

There he was again, using the same get-out-of-jail-free card. He had played this game year after year.

I pulled the covers up and turned away from him, my voice cutting through the quiet darkness. "I told you, I'm not mad. You're tired too. Get some sleep."

Norman stood by the bed, silent for a long time.

If this had been before, I would've cried and begged, "I need you here too."

I would've poured out all my grievances, just wanting him to notice me.

But now, all I felt was exhaustion.

After a long while, I heard the rustling sounds behind me.

Norman lay down next to me, smelling like that body wash Emily gave him, the one she claimed would help him sleep better.

He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his chin resting in the crook of my neck, his voice softening.

He said, "Honey, don't be mad. I know I've neglected you these past few years. Once things calm down at work, I'll take some time off and take you to the beach, okay?"

His breath brushed against my ear. It used to be the warmth I cherished most.

"Forget it," I said, closing my eyes. "I don't care for the ocean anymore."

Norman's hand paused for a moment, as if he sensed something was wrong, but the tiredness quickly washed over him.

"There you go again, saying things to rile me up. Let's sleep. We have to get up early for your hospital check-up tomorrow. Since you'll be there, maybe you can give me a quick exam too," he said.

Before long, the steady rhythm of his breathing filled the room behind me.

I opened my eyes and stared out at the pitch-black night sky. Norman, there was no future for us anymore.

*****

Early the next morning, I went to the hospital's emergency department for the shift handover.

Just as I finished putting on my white coat, the head nurse came over with a stack of check-up forms, looking troubled.

"Dr. Sutton, the folks from Walker Holdings are here, and they're causing a scene at the check-up center," she said.

I kept flipping through the medical records. "What's the fuss? Afraid of a little blood?"

The head nurse said, "It's that Emily Lynn. She's insisting on cutting in line. A bunch of elderly folks have been waiting forever.

"After she showed up, she started complaining about dizziness and chest pain. Mr. Walker of yours picked her up and carried her inside and ended up pushing the old folks aside."

I paused, then closed the medical file. "I'll go check it out."

When I got to the check-up center, I could hear Norman's voice echoing from down the hall.

"Move aside! Please, make way! There's a patient here!" he shouted.

He was carrying Emily in his arms, looking so frantic, like he thought she might drop dead any second.

But Emily was curled up against him, her cheeks flushed, not a hint of sickness anywhere on her face.

She clung to Norman's collar, with a couple of tears hanging at the corners of her eyes.

"Norman, am I going to die? My heart's pounding so fast," she whimpered.