Chapter 2

Christian hadn't come home for a week.

I was used to it.

He never informed me of his plans, and I, knowing better, never asked.

But I had run out of painkillers.

It was only then that I realized a sad truth.

Besides Christian, I had no one else to contact.

After much hesitation, I still dialed his number.

"Annoying. You're really bad."

From the other end of the phone came Ruth's ambiguous gasps.

I stared at the name on the phone screen, unable to snap back to reality for a long time.

I didn't know how the call ended, but I just felt a severe pain in my stomach.

I told myself it would pass if I just endured it.

I did not sleep soundly, sweating profusely.

In a daze, I thought I saw Christian sitting by my bed, softly calling my name.

It felt like a return to five years ago.

That year, I had a persistent fever, and he had just taken over the company.

Not wanting to hinder his future, I went to the hospital alone.

That night, he flew back from abroad.

The moment I saw him, my eyes filled with tears, yet I stubbornly said,

"Why did you come back? What about the company? I can take care of myself."

He gently took my hand, smiling.

"Anna, nothing is more important than you. Remember, whenever and wherever you need me, I'll be there."

He looked into my eyes, firm yet gentle.

At that moment, I wanted to be selfish.

I carefully grabbed his sleeve, whispering,

"Chris, don't leave, okay?"

"Just stay with me for a while. Just a little while."

A sharp pain woke me up.

Christian was sitting by the bed, wiping my sweat with a tissue.

It turned out this was not my delusion.

"Why are you sweating so much?"

He asked with concern, as if he still loved me.

But remembering that phone call, I only felt his hypocrisy.

I turned away, not letting him touch me.

Christian's face darkened, and he forcefully turned my shoulder, his voice low,

"Anna, what are you so mad about? I came back as soon as you called. What more do you want?"

So he messed around with other women, and I should be grateful?

Sorry, I couldn't.

Enduring the pain, I looked into his eyes, my brow slightly furrowed.

"Christian, stop pretending. Aren't you tired?"

He suddenly lunged at me, veins bulging on his neck.

"What am I pretending? What right do you have to say that? The hypocrite isn't me. It's you."

He hurt me badly. I tried my hardest to push him away, but he grabbed my hand, his eyes red.

"Do you know how worried I was? I came over as soon as I saw your call, afraid something happened to you, and this is how you treat me?"

He roughly covered my lips, and I couldn't break free, so I bit his mouth.

Amid the bloody taste, he persisted.

"Anna, is it so hard to admit you're wrong?"

His kiss nearly suffocated me, but thankfully, his phone rang.

"Christian, my wound is inflamed again. It hurts so much. Can you take me to the hospital?"

Ruth cried out to him.

Christian threw his phone aside, whispering in my ear,

"Just admit your mistake, and we can go back to how things were."

What a shame. There was no turning back.

From the moment he chose to believe the rumors over me, we couldn’t go back to how things were.

I had thought about talking things through with him, but every time we met, he reeked of alcohol.

Misunderstandings and arguments, there was never a chance.

Disappointment accumulated slowly, and hope faded.

I turned my head, silent.

He slammed the bed hard, then got up, took his clothes, and left.