Chapter 4

Saturday morning, I made congee and fried eggs in the kitchen.

Alexander emerged from the bedroom, yawning.

"Why are you up so early today?"

"Alexander." I looked at him. "Can you stay home today and spend the day with me?"

He pulled out a chair and sat down, taking a sip of congee.

"Sure, I don't have any shoots today anyway. We can stay in and look at wedding venues together."

He took out his phone, ready to search for information.

Suddenly the screen lit up—Ingrid's special ringtone.

He answered immediately. "Hello, Ingrid?"

Her anxious, tearful voice came through the phone.

"Alexander, my cat got out! I think it might have climbed out the window up to the roof. It's so cold outside—it'll freeze to death!"

Alexander shot to his feet. "Don't panic. I'll be right over to help you look!"

He headed toward the entryway, grabbing his coat as he went.

"Alexander." I sat at the dining table without turning around.

"You promised you wouldn't go out today."

His steps paused. "Ingrid's cat has asthma. If we don't find it, it could die. Finding the cat is urgent—we can look at venues later."

"If you walk out that door today, we won't need to look at venues anymore."

My voice was soft, completely flat.

Alexander turned to look at me, his eyes full of impatience.

"Talia, when did you become so cold-blooded? That's a living creature! Can you stop throwing tantrums at a time like this? That's enough!"

Enough. That phrase again.

"Go ahead." I nodded.

He seemed to relax. "I'll be gone two hours max. I'll be back for lunch with you."

The door closed.

I pulled out those two suitcases from the bedroom.

On the coffee table sat a wedding cancellation checklist.

That two-thousand-dollar plain band ring lay on top of the papers.

I took one last look around this home, feeling not a trace of attachment.

I bought a one-way ticket to Hawaii.

The moment the plane landed, I turned off airplane mode.

My phone screen lit up frantically.

Messages from Alexander popped up: "Where are you? Stop this. I'll buy tickets right now—we'll go to Iceland, okay?"

I stared at those words.

All I could see in my mind were those three thousand two hundred photos of aurora that belonged to someone else.

My heart felt no ripples whatsoever. My finger simply tapped calmly on the screen.

"Too cold. Not going."

I hit send, then blocked him, deleted everything, and powered off completely.

Pushing through the airport's glass doors, warm sea breezes rushed to meet me.

I'd finally left that Iceland trip—four years overdue—forever in the frozen snowfields.