Chapter 2
His nervous gaze brought a bitter ache to my heart.
When the words reached my lips, I whispered, “No, I drove the Audi.”
“That’s right,” he said with a faint smile. “You’ve never liked being high–profile.”
Only then did the tension leave his shoulders. His back finally relaxed, and he stepped closer.
Seeing my weary expression, he pulled me into his arms, his voice soft and full of concern. “Why do you look so bad? Are you tired today?”
It wasn’t from exhaustion. It was because I had taken our child’s life with my own
hands.
I didn’t say this aloud; instead, I answered him silently in my mind.
I had always been quiet by nature, and my
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silence didn’t bother him. He simply smiled warmly and continued, “Thank you for your hard work, wife. I’ll go make your favorite lean meat porridge.”
He gently tucked the quilt around me and pressed a kiss on my forehead.
As he turned to leave, I suddenly called out, “Gary.”
He stopped, turning back with a confused “Hmm?”
“What’s wrong, wife?”
“Do you remember what you said when you proposed to me?” I asked, looking calmly into his eyes.
For a moment, I saw panic flicker in his gaze, but he quickly masked it with a firm, gentle smile.
“Of course, I remember. Why? Are you worried your handsome husband will be stolen away?”
“Don’t speak when you see me,” I said
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softly.
He turned back, his expression full of affection, and gently scratched the tip of
my nose.
Moments later, he squatted in front of me, raising four fingers. “I swear, Gary will never betray Mary in this lifetime.”
Hearing those words, I clenched my palms tightly, willing the tears not to fall.
Looking into his clear, earnest eyes, I forced a soft smile. “In half a month, it‘ 11
be our tenth anniversary. I have a gift for you too.”
From the bedside table, I retrieved a beautifully wrapped box.
His eyes lit up with joy as he exclaimed,
“Stars, this is-”
Before he could tear into it, I gently held his hand. “The tenth–anniversary gift should only be opened on the day itself.”
“You‘ re right. I was being too
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impatient,” he said, smiling as he carefully set the box aside.
Then, he went downstairs to cook, closing the door quietly behind him.
As soon as he left, my phone buzzed.
“Ms. Guzman,” a voice said, “I need to remind you again: canceling all identity information will mean completely erasing yourself. This will cause significant inconveniences. Are you sure?”
The sound of cooking drifted upstairs.
For ten years, only Gary had been at home. Despite having a nanny and chef, he had learned to cook every dish I loved, making
them himself.
He once said that if I loved him, I should let him feel it.
But now, those moments of happiness have become a source of unbearable pain.
Snapping back to reality, I said with unshakable resolve, “I’m sure. I just
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want to disappear completely.”
After ending the call, exhaustion overtook me, and I drifted off to sleep.
When I woke up, the rich aroma of lean meat porridge filled the air.
I walked out of the room and found Gary in the kitchen. His tall figure leaned against the stove as he stirred the porridge with one hand and used the other to press the voice button on his phone, replying to a
message.
A faint smile played on his lips.
Is it her? I tortured myself with the thought.
Sensing my gaze, Gary put down his phone and turned to me.
As soon as I sat at the dining table, he placed the porridge before me.
Carefully picking out the ginger, he blew
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on it before offering it to me. “It’s ready to eat,” he said tenderly.
I tasted the porridge, its temperature was
perfect, but the flavor I once loved now seemed utterly bland.
After dinner, we went to bed.
Even after ten years of marriage, Gary still liked to hold me in his arms as he slept.
