Chapter 1 · Virus Outbreak: He Left Me For His First Love

Chapter 1

Four hours before the flight suspension notice went out, Damien Sloane sent me a WhatsApp message: [I'm working late tonight. Don't wait up for me.]

Six hours later, the entire city went into lockdown.

I called him, yet it went straight to voicemail.

I opened SkyTravel Navigator. His name was listed on the passenger roster for UA587.

The destination read Olianken.

On the same flight, the seat right next to his belonged to Linnea Vale.

She was in 12A, he was in 12B—one by the window, one in the middle, sharing an armrest.

In the kitchen, the soup was still bubbling.

Damien's mother, Chiara Sloane, poked her head out of the bedroom. "Why isn't Damien back yet? I'm starving."

I turned off the stove.

He wasn't coming back.

*****

The soup spilled over, putting out the flame on the stove.

I stared at my phone. UA587 was already in the air.

There was a tiny plane icon next to the status bar, inching its way south.

I set my phone face down on the stove, walked into the bedroom, and opened Damien's side of the closet.

It was empty. Every suit, coat, and cashmere sweater was gone. Even those brown loafers he always wore had disappeared.

In the drawer, there was a square dust outline where his passport used to be. The house documents and marriage certificate were still there. But his personal document photocopy was missing, too.

This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision.

I crouched down and pulled out a shoebox from the bottom of the closet.

Inside were three e-ticket itineraries, printed eleven days ago, the UA587 to Olianken.

The owners were Catherine Harrington, Damien Sloane, and Linnea Vale. The three names were lined up together.

But on Catherine's ticket, there was a bold red stamp: [Refunded].

The refund date was five days ago. Eleven days ago, he booked three tickets. Five days ago, he dropped mine.

He actually considered bringing me along. But then he changed his mind.

"Catherine?" Chiara's voice called from the living room. "Where's the soup? My blood sugar's low. Are you trying to starve me?"

I folded the itineraries and slipped them into my bag.

As I carried the soup out, the TV was broadcasting the lockdown announcement. [Effective 10 PM tonight, all public transportation in the city will be suspended. Residents are advised to stay home unless it's necessary.]

Chiara frowned and flipped the channel. "God, this is on all the time. It's so annoying. Did Damien say when he's coming back?"

"He's away for work," I replied.

"Away for work? Where did he go?" Chiara was surprised.

"Olianken." I set the soup in front of her.

Chiara grumbled, "Traveling at a time like this?" then started sipping her soup, and she didn't press further.

I stood out on the balcony and saw yellow barricade tape already strung up at the gate of our apartment complex.

Someone tried to make a break for it, dragging a suitcase, but security stopped them and sent them back.

The wind was fierce, whipping the plastic tape so it snapped and rattled loudly.

Damien was probably already flying at 30,000 feet by now.

Linnea was in the seat right beside him.

Meanwhile, his mom was standing right next to me.

My phone buzzed. It was a WhatsApp message from Damien: [I got to the office. I'll probably be late tonight. Go ahead and get some rest.]

The time sent was 5:14 PM. By that time, he was already waiting in the airport lounge.

I didn't reply. I took a screenshot of the message and saved it in a new album. I paused for a second, then named the folder Evidence.

By the third day of lockdown, our groceries were almost gone.

Chiara stood in front of the fridge, searching for anything edible, then slammed the door shut. "This is all that's left? Why didn't you stock up earlier?"

"Damien said there was no need to stock up. The lockdown would be over soon," I replied.

"Can't you ever think for yourself? Why do you always wait for him to make decisions?" Chiara snapped.

I kept quiet.

I pulled out my phone and checked the community group chat. The veggie packs had to be ordered a day ahead. The soonest they'd arrive was tomorrow.

I placed an order for a veggie pack, 40 dollars for cabbage, potatoes, carrots, and two green onions.

Chiara leaned over to take a look. "40 dollars? That's highway robbery."

"Try to hold out for one more day, Chiara. The veggies will be here tomorrow," I said.

"You expect me, a woman almost sixty, to go hungry?" Chiara snapped.

She dialed Damien's number. The call went through.

"Damien, Catherine doesn't even know how to buy groceries. We're about to run out of food. When are you coming back?" Chiara complained.

She put the call on speaker, and Damien's voice came through, echoing a bit, like he was in an empty room. "Mom, the lockdown here is really strict. I can't make it back right now. Let Catherine figure something out."

"So, where are you staying? Are you actually living at the office?" Chiara asked.

There was a brief silence.

"Well, we've got dorms at work. Don't worry about me," Damien replied.

Chiara hung up and started scolding me. "Damien's out there sleeping on the floor at the office, and you can't even manage a simple meal at home for me."

I kept quiet.

He was actually in Olianken, but told Chiara he was sleeping on the floor at the office.

Suddenly, I wondered if Chiara had any idea where Damien was.

Dinner was water and hard tack.

Chiara took a couple of bites, then set her cup down. "I can't eat this. It's too miserable."

At two in the morning, I was woken up by a noise.

The living room light was on, and Chiara was sitting on the couch, talking on the phone.

She was keeping her voice low, but I could hear every word through the door. "You made it. That's good. How's Linnea? Is she good to you?"

Chiara cared about Linnea so much.

"Don't stress about the visa. Linnea's family has connections. They'll get it sorted for sure," Chiara said.

I leaned against the doorframe, my fingertips turning cold.

Chiara knew everything. She knew Damien was in Olianken with Linnea.

She knew everything, but still shared the same roof with me, ate the meals I cooked, used the groceries I bought, and never missed a chance to criticize me for not even being able to make a decent meal.

"Don't worry about Catherine. I'm keeping an eye on her." Chiara's voice floated over. "Hold off on selling the house until the lockdown ends. Let her keep paying the mortgage for now."

They planned not to deal with the property for now and made me cover the mortgage in the meantime.

I quietly retreated to the bedroom, making sure not to make a sound.

I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. I was the only one in this house who was kept in the dark.

Chapter 1

Four hours before the flight suspension notice went out, Damien Sloane sent me a WhatsApp message: [I'm working late tonight. Don't wait up for me.]

Six hours later, the entire city went into lockdown.

I called him, yet it went straight to voicemail.

I opened SkyTravel Navigator. His name was listed on the passenger roster for UA587.

The destination read Olianken.

On the same flight, the seat right next to his belonged to Linnea Vale.

She was in 12A, he was in 12B—one by the window, one in the middle, sharing an armrest.

In the kitchen, the soup was still bubbling.

Damien's mother, Chiara Sloane, poked her head out of the bedroom. "Why isn't Damien back yet? I'm starving."

I turned off the stove.

He wasn't coming back.

*****

The soup spilled over, putting out the flame on the stove.

I stared at my phone. UA587 was already in the air.

There was a tiny plane icon next to the status bar, inching its way south.

I set my phone face down on the stove, walked into the bedroom, and opened Damien's side of the closet.

It was empty. Every suit, coat, and cashmere sweater was gone. Even those brown loafers he always wore had disappeared.

In the drawer, there was a square dust outline where his passport used to be. The house documents and marriage certificate were still there. But his personal document photocopy was missing, too.

This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision.

I crouched down and pulled out a shoebox from the bottom of the closet.

Inside were three e-ticket itineraries, printed eleven days ago, the UA587 to Olianken.

The owners were Catherine Harrington, Damien Sloane, and Linnea Vale. The three names were lined up together.

But on Catherine's ticket, there was a bold red stamp: [Refunded].

The refund date was five days ago. Eleven days ago, he booked three tickets. Five days ago, he dropped mine.

He actually considered bringing me along. But then he changed his mind.

"Catherine?" Chiara's voice called from the living room. "Where's the soup? My blood sugar's low. Are you trying to starve me?"

I folded the itineraries and slipped them into my bag.

Chiara frowned and flipped the channel. "God, this is on all the time. It's so annoying. Did Damien say when he's coming back?"

"He's away for work," I replied.

"Away for work? Where did he go?" Chiara was surprised.

"Olianken." I set the soup in front of her.

Chiara grumbled, "Traveling at a time like this?" then started sipping her soup, and she didn't press further.

I stood out on the balcony and saw yellow barricade tape already strung up at the gate of our apartment complex.

Someone tried to make a break for it, dragging a suitcase, but security stopped them and sent them back.

The wind was fierce, whipping the plastic tape so it snapped and rattled loudly.

Damien was probably already flying at 30,000 feet by now.

Linnea was in the seat right beside him.

Meanwhile, his mom was standing right next to me.

My phone buzzed. It was a WhatsApp message from Damien: [I got to the office. I'll probably be late tonight. Go ahead and get some rest.]

The time sent was 5:14 PM. By that time, he was already waiting in the airport lounge.

I didn't reply. I took a screenshot of the message and saved it in a new album. I paused for a second, then named the folder Evidence.

By the third day of lockdown, our groceries were almost gone.

Chiara stood in front of the fridge, searching for anything edible, then slammed the door shut. "This is all that's left? Why didn't you stock up earlier?"

"Damien said there was no need to stock up. The lockdown would be over soon," I replied.

"Can't you ever think for yourself? Why do you always wait for him to make decisions?" Chiara snapped.

I kept quiet.

I pulled out my phone and checked the community group chat. The veggie packs had to be ordered a day ahead. The soonest they'd arrive was tomorrow.

I placed an order for a veggie pack, 40 dollars for cabbage, potatoes, carrots, and two green onions.

Chiara leaned over to take a look. "40 dollars? That's highway robbery."

"Try to hold out for one more day, Chiara. The veggies will be here tomorrow," I said.

"You expect me, a woman almost sixty, to go hungry?" Chiara snapped.

She dialed Damien's number. The call went through.

"Damien, Catherine doesn't even know how to buy groceries. We're about to run out of food. When are you coming back?" Chiara complained.

"So, where are you staying? Are you actually living at the office?" Chiara asked.

There was a brief silence.

"Well, we've got dorms at work. Don't worry about me," Damien replied.

Chiara hung up and started scolding me. "Damien's out there sleeping on the floor at the office, and you can't even manage a simple meal at home for me."

I kept quiet.

He was actually in Olianken, but told Chiara he was sleeping on the floor at the office.

Suddenly, I wondered if Chiara had any idea where Damien was.

Dinner was water and hard tack.

Chiara took a couple of bites, then set her cup down. "I can't eat this. It's too miserable."

At two in the morning, I was woken up by a noise.

The living room light was on, and Chiara was sitting on the couch, talking on the phone.

She was keeping her voice low, but I could hear every word through the door. "You made it. That's good. How's Linnea? Is she good to you?"

Chiara cared about Linnea so much.

"Don't stress about the visa. Linnea's family has connections. They'll get it sorted for sure," Chiara said.

I leaned against the doorframe, my fingertips turning cold.

Chiara knew everything. She knew Damien was in Olianken with Linnea.

"Don't worry about Catherine. I'm keeping an eye on her." Chiara's voice floated over. "Hold off on selling the house until the lockdown ends. Let her keep paying the mortgage for now."

They planned not to deal with the property for now and made me cover the mortgage in the meantime.

I quietly retreated to the bedroom, making sure not to make a sound.

I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. I was the only one in this house who was kept in the dark.