chapter13

Suzanne stood by the bookshelf, her fingers tracing the spines of the volumes she had used as an escape over the past few days. "I’ve finished everything on your shelf," she said, her voice quiet but firm.

Nathan looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Are you really not going to reconsider?"

Suzanne lowered her gaze, shielding the hurt in her eyes. "No. I’ll leave in the morning. It’s better if I don't come back."

Nathan didn't press her further. He moved past her into the room, his movements efficient and cold as he began unbuttoning his tactical shirt. "When we visit Grandma, don't mention the divorce. Her health is too fragile for that kind of news."

Suzanne gripped her phone until her knuckles turned white. The silence in the room felt heavy, and for the first time, she couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice. "I found a photo in one of your books, Nathan. A little girl. On the back, it said, 'My one true love, Sally Hoffis.'"

Nathan’s hands froze on his buttons. His entire frame turned rigid, his eyes darkening as the air in the room seemed to vanish. He said nothing.

A sharp, throbbing pain bloomed in Suzanne’s chest. Seeing his reaction was almost worse than the discovery itself. She forced herself to sound indifferent, to protect what little pride she had left. "If I’m not mistaken, she’s the one you’ve always wanted to marry, right?"

It took a long moment for Nathan to snap back. He resumed unbuttoning his shirt with a nonchalant air that felt forced. "I liked her when I was young," he said dismissively. "She left to study abroad at fourteen. It’s been more than a decade since I last saw her. Despite being back for a year, she still feels like a stranger."

He disappeared into the bathroom, the click of the door ending the conversation. But his words offered no comfort. Suzanne couldn't shake the feeling of being a third wheel in her own life. Nathan and Sally shared a history that stretched back to childhood—a foundation of shared memories that Suzanne could never replicate. If she hadn't appeared, they would likely be together. What was the point of fighting for a marriage that was built on someone else’s foundation?

The cold night air through the window matched the chill in her heart. She dimmed the lights and climbed into bed, hoping to be asleep before Nathan emerged. But sleep was a distant luxury. Every time she closed her eyes, her mind raced back to the photo and the history she could never touch.

Fifteen minutes later, the bathroom door opened. Nathan returned to the room and carefully got into bed, leaving a vast, cold space between them. The room was plunged into darkness, but Suzanne remained hyper-aware of his presence just a few feet away.

Suddenly, a phone buzzed, the vibration loud in the quiet room. Suzanne stiffened. Nathan reached for the device and tapped a notification.

A voice message filled the room. Sally’s voice was soft, melodic, and laced with a calculated vulnerability. "Nate, I’m scared. Can you come stay with me?"

There was no hesitation. Nathan threw back the covers and stood up. He left the room without a word, the soft click of the door sounding like a finality.

Suzanne remained perfectly still, her eyes wide in the dark. She had heard the message. She had felt the urgency in his departure. He hadn't just left the room; he had effectively chosen a side.

She told herself it wasn't worth the tears. She told herself that a man who could leave his wife in the middle of the night for another woman wasn't worth her grief. But the heart doesn't listen to logic.

Suzanne turned on her side, pulling the blanket over her head to muffle the sound of her heartbreak. She bit down on her arm, using the physical pain to distract from the agonizing ache in her chest. Her shoulders shook with silent, uncontrollable sobs as the pillow beneath her grew damp, marking the end of the dream she had held onto for three long years.

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