Chapter 2

I stood on the sidewalk and suddenly laughed.

These three years, I'd been so exhausted trying to prove my worth, so determined not to be just a housewife, that I'd overlooked so many details in our daily life.

Like how every weekend he said there was something at the university, and he'd be gone the whole day.

When I asked what it was about, he'd always brush me off: "You wouldn't understand even if I told you."

Like that time he forgot some documents, and when I dropped them off at his faculty housing, I saw two toothbrushes on his bathroom counter—one blue, one pink.

And I never thought deeper about it.

……

I pulled myself out of my thoughts and kept walking.

Across two streets, around three corners, until I stood at the ticket office entrance.

I waited in line, remembering how long the customs line had been when I first landed in New York three years ago.

Because I was about to see the man I loved, I was so foolishly happy that I didn't feel tired at all.

When James picked me up, he hugged me and spun me around.

Until a girl waved at him:

"Professor Mitchell! What a coincidence—Grace and I were on the same flight!"

It was Emma.

James smiled and took her suitcase, explaining to me:

"Forgot to mention—Emma's coming over to keep working as my assistant. It's not easy for a young woman to immigrate on her own."

Emma smiled sweetly. "Grace, I hope we can look after each other from now on."

My smile stiffened slightly, but I nodded politely.

On the drive, I quietly watched them chat.

When she talked, James would tilt his head to listen carefully.

When she pointed at clouds in the sky, he'd look where she was pointing.

That attention that used to belong only to me was now quietly being shared with her.

My heart felt a little sour.

But I was also happy for him.

After all, good assistants are hard to find. Having someone he knew and trusted come along would make his work at the university go more smoothly.

In those first few months in New York, I tried to find a job.

But my field was so niche that I couldn't find anything in my specialty.

Hundreds of resumes—either ignored completely or met with a "not considering at this time."

I'd always been a top student, everything going smoothly. I'd never tasted rejection before.

Those nights I couldn't sleep, tossing and turning, wondering—was I just not good enough?

Finally, I had no choice but to ask James.

After dinner one evening, I sat down next to him.

Stammering, I said: "Um… could you maybe… ask around at the university?"

"Isn't there supposed to be a spouse quota? I was thinking, if there's a way to arrange a position…"

I couldn't finish.

My whole life, I'd never asked anyone to pull strings for me.

Even though it was part of the talent recruitment policy—a benefit for spouses—saying it out loud made my face burn.

Like I was doing something shameful.

"Mm," he said, head down, still flipping through his papers. "If you want to work, I'll ask around."

I felt a little relieved.

I waited three months.

When I asked again, he said he'd been busy—we'd talk about it later.

But as far as I knew, Emma had started working at the university ages ago.

Administrative position, weekends off, great benefits.

James said it was through normal hiring.

I believed him.

Looking back now, her qualifications and experience were worse than mine.

She couldn't even speak English properly.

So why did my resume, submitted the same way, sink without a trace?

The answer had been right in front of me all along. I just didn't want to see it…

The line moved forward a step.

My turn.

I handed over my passport.

The clerk typed a few keystrokes, then frowned.

"Ma'am, we can't issue you a ticket with this document."

"Why not?"

She turned the screen slightly toward me. "The system shows you've overstayed your permitted time in the US."

I froze. "Overstayed?"

"Your most recent extension application wasn't approved, right?" She glanced at me. "The system shows no valid stay permit for you."

I stood at the window, speechless.