Chapter 2

Adrian spent the rest of the party following Ellie around, trying to help her with games and snacks. She barely answered him. He kept trying anyway.

By the time the party was winding down and kids were leaving, Adrian was crouching next to the decimated cake. Most of it had been boxed up for the guests. Ellie had barely touched her own slice.

"I designed this for you," he pleaded softly, looking up at Ellie. "You loved the drawings. Please, don't give the last of it away."

She wavered, looking at the small piece left on its base. "You just bought it, you didn't bake it," she said simply. "And I already promised my classmates. I can't break a promise."

By the time Ellie was finally asleep, all that was left of his towering castle was a plain, mangled bottom layer. As we silently tidied up the mess in the living room, Adrian poked at the leftovers and took a bite.

"It's not as good as the one you made," he said. "No wonder she wanted yours."

I gave him a polite smile and went to run my bath.

I met Adrian in my third year of university. Friends introduced us, and I fell for him at once. I pursued him openly for six months before he told me we weren't right for each other. He had too much he wanted to do, he said; he couldn't devote all his attention to me. I took the rejection seriously and stopped bothering him.

Later a close friend was recovering from surgery at the hospital where Adrian worked, and I went to visit. However, I found myself taken hostage by an angry patient's relative with a blade. Adrian came as soon as he heard. The hostage-taker was erratic, barking out a barrage of chaotic demands. To keep him from hurting me, Adrian even drove a surgical knife into his palm and shifted it whenever the man ordered him to. Blood spread across the floor while I stood there shaking.

Once the SWAT team subdued the attacker, I refused to go home. I stayed through Adrian's surgery, waiting by his side until he opened his eyes.

Still hazy from the anesthesia, he looked up at me. "Do you still like me?" he murmured. "Would you still want to be together? Clara Morgan, used to be so afraid of making a commitment. But if my hand is ruined... maybe you'll just have to look after me forever. I do like you."

I told him to stop talking nonsense and that his hand would heal. And it did. We dated, got married, and had Ellie. At the time, each step felt natural.

The illusion shattered exactly three years ago.

A news report said a group of doctors working in Africa had disappeared while treating the injured. Without a second thought, Adrian booked a flight.

Only then did I learn he'd recently broken up with his first love when I first met him. Sophie had chosen to work with an international medical organization, while he was trapped carrying out his family duties back home. Geographically, their paths had split. Emotionally, he had stayed right there with her.

I waited at home until he returned. When he finally walked through the front door, I didn't scream or cry. I simply asked for a divorce.

Ellie wasn't even three years old yet.

Adrian explained the situation without breaking his packing rhythm. Sophie's husband, Daniel, had died during the relief mission, leaving her grounded with a broken leg and a little boy. He was going to help them.

I couldn't believe he expected me to accept it. And he refused to divorce and threatened to fight me for Ellie. After more arguments, he took an overseas training placement through the hospital, so he could be near Sophie and her son.

Ellie and I remained here.

For Ellie's sake, I kept our long-distance contact strictly civil. Then, six months ago, Adrian came back, seemingly ready to play the husband and father again. But instead of reconnecting, every passing week just pushed us further apart.