Chapter 1
When Grace Parrish shut down Hector Bertram’s laptop, a message popped up.
“Honey, do you think this photo looks good?”
In the photo, Hector and a girl were sharing a sweet, intimate kiss.
It was her–his long–lost first love.
I clicked on her profile only to find her feed filled with pictures of their travels together.
Just as I was about to take a closer look, the WhatsApp burner account was forcibly logged out.
Moments later, Hector called.
By the time Hector came home, I had already woken from a
nap.
Our eyes met. He quickly looked away, as if something was off.
“I called you. Why didn’t you pick up?”
I played dumb. “Oh, I didn’t hear it. Must’ve accidentally put my phone on silent.”
This was a test to see if I’d found his little secret.
Seeing that I was acting as usual, he slipped back into his
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distant demeanor.
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“I came home when I was supposed to. You don’t have to wait around like some lovesick fool.”
In the past, I would’ve said, “I don’t mind waiting because I love you.”
But now? I couldn’t be bothered.
He handed me a shopping bag with familiar packaging.
“Your favorite brand, Hermès.”
I took it and casually set it down on the kitchen counter.
Today was my birthday.
I had taken the afternoon off work to come home early, cooking all his favorite dishes.
But the day came and went. Hector, who promised to be home early, never showed.
You could never wake someone who’s pretending to sleep.
Hector’s brows knitted as he stared at me. “Grace, enough. You’re not some silly girl. Stop being so childish!”
Three years of marriage and gifts from Hector were never about affection. They were just his way of smoothing things
over.
If I accepted, it meant I was letting go of whatever argument we had just had.
I had let it go too many times. This time, I didn’t want to.
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But he couldn’t handle that.
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“I spent time picking out this gift for you, and you’re not even going to open it?”
I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t need to. I know what it is.”
But he didn’t care what I said. He pulled the bag out and shoved it into my hands.
“Didn’t you say you liked it? I bought it for you. What more do you want, Grace Parrish? You need to know when to stop!”
I said nothing and led him to the walk–in closet.
I placed the bag on the shelf.
There they were–ten identical Hermès bags lined up in a perfect row.
He stood there, stunned.
I turned and walked away. “Get some rest. It’s 3 a.m.”
“I’ll have my secretary order you the latest model tomorrow.”
My voice was light as air. “Don’t bother.”
I wouldn’t need them anymore.
Maybe it was out of guilt that Hector insisted on making up for my missed birthday.
But once the day has passed, what was the point of trying to make up for it?
I declined. “It’s fine. Don’t bother.”
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“Get in the car.”
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His tone was firm. I knew if I resisted, he would keep pushing until he got his way.
It was rush hour, and I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of my colleagues.
So, I quietly slid into the backseat.
About a year ago, Hector suddenly started hating when I sat in the passenger seat.
Back then, I thought it was because my clinginess annoyed him.
But now, I realize–it was probably reserved for someone more important.
As I opened the back door, I froze.
The seat was filled with all kinds of dolls.
The exact type she liked.
She was Tessie Shelton, a scholarship student my family had supported.
The first time she visited my room, she gazed around at the pink princess–themed decor jealously.
“When I get rich, I’m going to fill an entire room with dolls!”
The things we craved in our youth often haunted us for life.
It seemed, after all these years, she hadn’t changed.
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I let out a bitter laugh. “I’ll just grab a cab.”
“No need.”
Hector awkwardly moved a few dolls into the front seat.
Maybe he couldn’t come up with an excuse, his mouth opened as if to speak but no words came out.
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I squeezed into the cramped corner of the back seat, staring numbly out the window.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Hector stealing glances at me through the rearview mirror.
I shut my eyes, pretending to nap.
A few minutes later, his phone rang.
He answered immediately, and a familiar voice floated through the car. It was Tessie.
“Heck, someone’s following me. I’m scared.”
“Don’t be scared. Tell me where you are. I’ll be there right away.”
He pulled off at the side of the road without even looking at
- me.
“Go ahead first. I’ve got something urgent to handle.”
My feet had barely touched the ground before he sped off. When it came to Tessie, I was always the one left behind.
I arrived alone at the place, finding the room inside carefully
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decorated.
The waiter arrived, setting down the candlelit dinner.
I dug in without hesitation.
He probably wasn’t coming, but a small part of me still wanted to wait–just in case.
But tonight, even the food didn’t taste as good as usual.
Just before midnight, the waiter brought out a cake.
I accepted it with a polite smile. “Who booked the room?”
“A lady surnamed Jones,” he replied.
As expected, it was Hector’s secretary. He rarely handled things for me.
And when he did, it usually meant he’d done something terribly wrong.
Just like yesterday, tonight ended with me waiting in vain.
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