Chapter 2

Just as I stepped out of the shower, Cesar called me. "Haisley, why aren't you at the Oak Restaurant? The waiter told me you had already paid and left."

Wrapped in a blanket on the couch, a shiver ran through me.

How could he flirt with another woman, whisper sweet nothings to her, and still text me calling me baby?

The thought turned my stomach.

Cesar must have heard my strained breathing. "Haisley, what's wrong? Is your stomach acting up again? Tell me where you are. I'll come get you and take you to the hospital."

I listened to him call my name, but for the first time, I stayed silent. Quietly, I ended the call.

He kept ringing. I muted my phone and tossed it aside.

It was so absurd that I really thought I was happy.

Just four months ago, we were planning our future as if nothing could ever go wrong.

Cesar once told me, "Haisley, let's get married next year. I can't wait to make you my wife."

He even said, "I know you're not keen on kids. If you want kids after we marry, we will have them. If not, I'm perfectly fine with just the two of us."

Back then, I teased him, "Come on, Dr. Fuller. With genes like yours, not having kids would be a waste."

Cesar kissed the corner of my mouth. "Why would it be a waste? All my best genes are reserved for you."

What a shameless line. It made me blush every time.

He truly cherished me. We'd kissed, and we'd been close. Yet in two years, we never crossed that final line. Cesar always said he wanted to save that for our wedding night.

I thought I'd finally found the right man.

Half an hour later, Cesar walked right in.

We had each other's door codes, so coming and going freely felt completely natural.

"Haisley..." He always called my name the moment he stepped inside.

Curled on the couch with my eyes closed, I listened. For the first time, his voice didn't bring the comfort I'd always imagined.

"Haisley, what's wrong? Why aren't you answering?" Cesar came over, bent down, and felt my forehead.

Then he breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank goodness, no fever. Is your stomach acting up again? It's not time for your period yet. Did you sneak some iced milkshake again?"

I loved iced milkshakes, though my stomach was sensitive. Cesar banned it completely, but I'd still sneak sips behind his back. Every time, I'd end up sick, and he'd look at me, worried and helpless, never quite able to scold me.

I used to love seeing him so flustered because of me. It made me feel truly cherished.

His voice was filled with genuine concern. It didn't sound fake at all.

But just two hours ago, he'd held another woman in his arms and called her sweetheart.

A sharp pain shot through me, icy and deep.

Cesar sat down and pulled me close, patting my back gently. "Did you have a nightmare? Don't be scared. I'm here now."

We were so close, and the scent of perfume on him hung between us.

He never wore cologne. Usually, he just carried the clean scent of laundry detergent. Now, his clothes were wrapped in the heavy, distinct fragrance of roses.

Melany was the only one who wore rose perfume.

I opened my eyes and pushed him away, my face twisting in disgust. "You smell like perfume. It's disgusting."

Panic flashed in Cesar's eyes. "Haisley, I'm sorry. I know I promised we'd celebrate tonight, but an emergency patient came in. In all the chaos, a nurse bumped into me. That must be how the smell got on me."

I just nodded and went quiet.

Cesar sniffed his sleeve and frowned, "It really does stink. Let me take a quick shower. Then I'll stay with you."

I shook my head. "No need. I'm tired. I'm going to sleep."

His expression faltered. He took my hand. "Are you mad at me? Haisley, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stood you up tonight, but it was work. I couldn't get out of it."

He brushed his fingers over mine and leaned in to kiss me again.

I tilted my head away, forcing a smile. "It's fine. I'm not angry."

But inside, it hurt so much that I could hardly breathe.

So, having dinner with Melany, holding her, kissing her, calling her sweetheart was what he called work.

Maybe in his mind, as long as they weren't sleeping together, it was just harmless socializing.

Cesar suddenly remembered something. He pulled a small box from his pocket and handed it to me. "It's our two-year anniversary gift. Do you like it?"

I looked down, my eyes falling on the scar on his right index finger.

I used to boast about my perfect eyesight, able to see the tiniest details. Now, I almost wished my vision was poorer. Maybe then I could have stayed ignorant and happy.