Chapter 3

In our five years together, Declan had once told me I was his life.

One winter, it snowed for a solid two weeks, a rare sight in our city. Declan, in his dark wool coat, would wait for me at the subway station every evening after work.

Then he’d take my hand, and we’d walk under the dim streetlights, our distant home glowing with warmth.

Declan didn’t like snow, but he’d said, "Because Cassie likes it, I’m trying to like it too."

But when exactly did he change?

Declan gradually became incredibly busy. Sometimes he wouldn't come home for three or five days, and worse, he’d disappear for a while, barely replying to texts.

Yet, every time he returned, he was back to being his gentle, attentive self.

Hot meals would be on the table, my clothes washed and neatly folded.

It was as if... he was trying to make up for something.

The bedroom door opened, pulling me out of my past life's memories.

Declan stood in the doorway. "Cassie, I’m heading to the office."

The office again.

Declan had forgotten again. Today was my birthday.

In my past life, I’d grumbled, reminding him to come home early to celebrate my birthday, and he’d promised.

I'd waited all night, full of hope, only for the candles to burn down into the cake, leaving twenty tiny black holes.

Mocking my pathetic ignorance.

If he wasn’t going to come back, why promise?

This time, I didn't want to beg him to celebrate my birthday.

After a long silence, I suppressed the emotion and quietly replied, "Okay."

No movement from behind me.

Oh, I remembered. Every time he left, I was supposed to give him a kiss.

Was he waiting for that?

I burrowed deeper into the blankets to keep warm and softly said, "I don't feel well. I'm going back to sleep."

"Okay." Declan never forced me. He clicked the door shut.

The sound of his car driving away drifted up from downstairs.

The room returned to a crushing silence.

I gathered my strength, and a few minutes later, got up, dressed, and walked out the door.

Truth be told, I knew nothing about Declan all these years.

He owned a company, but he never let me visit, and he’d always avoided talking about meeting my parents.

If that lady at the wedding in my past life hadn't blurted it out, I'd still be in the dark, a pathetic fool, with no idea how long I'd been played.

Five years had built up too much dependence on him. This time, I wanted to break that dependence with my own hands.

The late autumn wind was strong, howling around me and whipping my hair.

I hailed a taxi by the roadside and gave the address.

"Miss, what are you doing heading to the industrial district by yourself?"

It took a great effort to force out a strained smile. "Picking up my partner after work..."

That was the address of Declan’s company.

I’d accidentally seen it on Declan’s phone in my past life; otherwise, he wouldn’t even tell me where his office was.

Back then, he often disappeared, sometimes for three or four days at a time.

I thought it was because he was so busy with his startup, but was that really it?

I gripped my handbag tightly, my blood pounded against my eardrums, a frantic drumbeat.

The car slowly pulled over, its headlights bright.

The driver lit a cigarette. "Miss, are you sure this is the place?"

It wasn't an office building, but an apartment complex.

A gloomy, gray sky hung over the building. The plane trees in front stood stark in the autumn wind, making the scene feel oppressive and somber.

The heater was on in the car.

I sat there, watching through the glass, as Declan and another woman turned out of the alley.

A sharp, tearing pain ripped through my entire body, shredding my soul. Years of waiting and hoping suddenly felt utterly worthless and cheap.

The woman was young, slender, wearing Declan’s scarf, her eyes bright and captivating when she smiled.

Declan had always said he loved the two dimples that appeared when I smiled.

She had them too.

She was carrying fresh groceries and Declan’s favorite beer.

Declan walked slowly behind her, hands in his pockets, a stylish women's bag draped over his forearm.

He watched her, with a relaxed, doting expression, as she moved gracefully in his sight.

His entire focus, his whole world, seemed to be her.

They chatted and laughed all the way, disappearing into the building’s entrance.

Just as they went inside, the woman turned, pushed him against the wall, and stood on tiptoe.

A gust of wind swept by, and the closing security door blocked my view.

I could only see her slightly lifted red high heels, swaying happily.

The taxi's hazard lights flashed, ticking rhythmically. The driver flicked his cigarette butt, the ash falling through the window gap…

"Look, miss, try to move on. Break it off early."

I slowly clenched my hands. The next second, I suddenly flung open the car door and bolted out.

"Declan! You bastard!"

My voice was drowned out by the blaring horns. I stumbled, tripped over a manhole cover, and fell hard into a pile of dirty, fallen leaves, scraping my skin.

After the cars sped past, the barren main road was empty.

The security door swayed crookedly in the wind.

The people who had been standing there were gone.

It felt like I’d been slapped hard, a stinging, resounding blow.

Finally, the driver helped me back into the car.

He sighed. "Making a scene won't help. You can't force the rain to stop, or someone's heart to stay. Some things just aren't meant to be."

…

That year, on my birthday, I turned our apartment upside down.

Including Declan’s study and bedroom.

I frantically searched for proof of his infidelity.

I kept at it until the early hours, then collapsed on the floor, clutching my aching stomach, curled into a ball.

Nothing. Clean as a whistle.

Not only was there no evidence of an affair, but even traces of his own life had been completely wiped clean.

His laptop had no password, like a brand new machine, with not a single search history.

I had seen Declan sitting at that computer countless times, working on things, but why would he delete everything?

The toothbrush, socks, and underwear I’d bought him were all neatly folded.

In a hidden corner of the study, I found all the gifts I’d given Declan over the years.

Most of them were unopened.

It was as if he was deliberately erasing all evidence of my existence in his life…

The warmth and happiness I'd painstakingly built over the years suddenly shattered like a fragile bubble.

He’d faked his love for me.

Behind my back, he’d become a family with another woman.