Chapter 3

I planned to have things out with Lucas.

It wasn't until the middle of the night that he came home.

As soon as he walked in, there was a faint scent of perfume on him.

My nose had become too sensitive after pregnancy. I rushed straight to the bathroom and threw up.

He quickly followed, patting my back. "Did you eat something bad?"

I braced myself against the sink and caught my breath. "Didn't eat anything bad. It's the perfume that's choking."

He paused for a moment, then leaned against the doorframe, his brow deeply furrowed:

"Isn't that a bit much? Just dropping off an old classmate, and you're disgusted by me?"

"Plus, I was planning to take you along to drop her off, but you insisted on leaving first."

This impatient tone---he'd never used it before.

My nose stung, and tears fell despite myself.

His expression softened a little. He came over to wipe my tears, but his tone was still dismissive:

"Get some rest early. We have to get up early tomorrow."

Then he turned to leave.

I called out to him. "You went to pick up Peyton yesterday, didn't you?"

His back stiffened. He frowned and turned around. "Who's been talking nonsense? I just had company business."

I laughed coldly inside.

Sure enough, that post Peyton made was visible only to me.

I didn't dwell on that topic and asked directly: "At the reunion, why didn't you dare make our relationship public?"

His temper flared too, his tone sharp. "Didn't you say it has nothing to do with me?"

This reversal left me speechless.

He immediately added: "Weren't we fake married to begin with?"

My heart went cold. I bit my lip. "What about our feelings? Were those fake too?"

His Adam's apple bobbed. He lowered his head without answering.

Tears fell uncontrollably again. I was almost crying as I shouted:

"If it was fake, why did you get serious with me? You still have feelings for Peyton? Why did you propose to me?"

He walked over and hugged me, his hand gently patting my back, but he said nothing.

I went quiet for a moment.

I already knew the answer.

But I still couldn't let go. My voice hoarse, I asked:

"When are we going to get our license?"

His body clearly stiffened. After a long while, he finally spoke:

"Aren't things... pretty good the way they are now?"

I went completely silent.

I was just his second choice all along. What was I even doing here, humiliating myself?

That night, I moved straight to the guest room to sleep.

He grabbed my wrist. "Does it have to be like this?"

I shook off his hand.

He didn't insist anymore. He sighed, went back to the bedroom, and closed the door heavily.

That door slam cut off my last hope.

I cried under the covers, swallowing the sounds back into my stomach.

This past year had been like a beautiful dream.

We hadn't even had a single fight.

I thought that was sweetness. Now I understood---I'd just been accommodating him all along, never daring to really make a fuss.

There was no such thing as peaceful years---it just hadn't been time to turn on each other yet.

The moment she came back, I lost.

Lost completely and thoroughly, without even room to struggle.