Part 2

The next day was a pre-dawn shift, so I went to the hospital early. After the morning meeting ended, I received a call from Adrian.

His voice was dripped with a subtle annoyance when he said, "Madeline, why didn't you wake me up? You left early without telling me and I overslept."

I used to take care of him in every possible way and even more so after we got married. Clothes laid out, breakfast prepared with love and a gentle morning call, a routine I meticulously followed.

His tone now suggested that he took those things for granted. It was as if my acts of love were mere obligations, a chore I was simply expected to perform.

However, I was never his caretaker, I was his wife. I had the right to refuse.

"Well, since you're going to be late, you'd better get up soon."

He asked again, "What am I going to wear today?"

"Just choose whatever you want to wear. It's all in the closet," I replied.

"But I can't find it...." Adrian tried to say.

My colleague called me over for some help, so I hurriedly said, "I have something else to attend to, I need to go. Just find your clothes yourself."

Barely a moment later, Adrian's message pinged on the screen. It read, [The shirts are wrinkled! You haven't ironed them yet? I can't show up in the office wearing them.]

It did not stop there. Another one came, saying, [You haven't prepared breakfast either?]

Just then, the department head happened to call me over, so I did not have time to reply to Adrian. "Madeline, good news!" he boomed, "After assessing your performance, it looks like the hospital wants to discuss your further training. Oh, look, you're fully recovered now, too."

I had initially planned to marry Adrian and have children, so I declined the hospital's offer before I was pregnant. But now I figured it out. Marrying him, building a family, those naïve aspirations had lost their charms. Staying with Adrian felt not just pointless, but foolish.

"I've thought about it, sir. I'll go," I replied with a newfound conviction.

"Excellent choice!" The department head was practically beamed. He then asked me to prepare everything and said he would notify me when the date was set.

His enthusiasm was infectious. I agreed that the time was indeed right. This was my ticket to a future I could finally design on my own terms.

Time seemed to melt away as I dove into work. Before I knew it, the world outside the window had turned to dark. However, just as I settled in with another stack of documents, Adrian called me.

"Why aren't you home yet? Where's dinner?"

I found the very thought of returning to Adrian was somehow revolting. That was why I stayed in the office preparing documents until late.

"My colleague had something urgent coming up and had to switch shifts with me. Takeout's probably your best bet tonight," I said, casually found an excuse.

"Takeout?" Adrian sounded surprised.

Back then, eating out was not even an option for us. I practically catered to every meal, three times a day.

"Is there anything wrong?" I asked him.

"No." Adrian hesitated before continuing, "Just take care of yourself and don't get too tired."

"Thank you," I replied flatly.

Adrian was silent for a while, then asked again, "Madeline, are you angry?"

The question, so slow to come, sparked a flicker of something akin to anger. But mostly, it was a disappointment. Was he truly this oblivious, or simply did not care about my feelings? However, it did not matter. I would not be angry anymore.

Part 3

In an apologetic tone, Adrian took the initiative to explain, "Madeline, it's not easy for Sophie to raise a child alone. She doesn't know anyone else here. She only has me."

His words felt like a slap. He conveniently forgot sometimes that, I too, only had him.

"Of course, I understand. She must've been through a lot," I answered calmly.

"Madeline, what's that supposed to mean? What's your attitude?" He lost his temper all of a sudden.

"I said I understand," I repeated, my voice losing its lightness, "Is that a problem?"

"Do you have to talk to me like that?" he snapped.

"Then what do you want me to say?" I countered, frustration creeping in.

Silence fell between us, heavy and suffocating. Finally, he mumbled a defeated, "Do as you wish," before hanging up.

Wasn't it ironic? He once said I was annoying when I questioned him visiting Sophie. And when I called him to ask when he would be back from Sophies's, I was also the annoying one. Now, even trying to understand him earned me his frustration.

With a sigh, I tossed my phone aside. Dwelling on it would not change anything. There was more important thing to do, like a stack of documents in front of me.

The night shift ended and I deliberately lingered after cleaning up my desk. The thought of returning home, held no appeal.

When I arrived, Adrian had already left for work. I took a shower and went off to sleep, but just as I began to drift off, had the tranquility was shattered by the insistent ringing of my phone. It was Adrian.

"Madeline," he sounded like he was holding back pain, "my... my stomach hurts."

I mumbled a response, but I was too tired and fell back asleep. In a dream, I seemed to hear Adrian calling my name, but the sound felt distant, so I pushed the dream away.

After some time, I was completely awakened by the sound of the door opening. Adrian stood by the bed, his face a mask of hurt.

"Madeline, why don't you care anymore? You used to be worried when I was sick and you would even make porridge and give me medicine."

That was indeed the old me. I remembered it only too clearly.

Once, Adrian had a stomachache, so I asked for leave to bring him medicine at his office. As luck had it, I got caught in the rain on my way there, leaving my hair soaked and me looking quite a mess.

However, things just got better when his colleagues laughed at my appearance and Adrian did not even try to stop them. To top it off, he told me never to come to his office again because, in his words, I was an embarrassment.

"Are you feeling better now?" I rubbed my eyes. "We might be out of medicine, though. Maybe you can grab some yourself."

Adrian was speechless, then frustration boiled over. He grabbed my arm and shouted, "Madeline, how long are you going to keep fighting with me about Sophie? I told you, there's nothing between her and me!"

"Oh, okay," I said, my calm a stark contrast to his anger.

In a fit of rage, Adrian slammed the door and left. The silence that followed was liberating.

Part 4

Days bled into each other. After leaving, Adrian did not go home for several days and I did not bother to ask where he went.

On the third day, my phone screen flickered with a message from him. He said that he was on a business trip and shared his location.

[Okay, stay safe,] I typed. A sardonic chuckle escaped my lips.

Just after sending the reply, a picture Sophie posted on Twitter taunted me from my feed. The caption read, [First holiday in what seems like forever. I never thought I'd miss cotton candy! Someone insisted on buying it for me.]

The accompanying picture showed Adrian's hand, with our wedding ring still on his finger. Moreover, the location on Sophie's tweet matched the one Adrian had sent me.

The ring on my own finger felt like a searing ember, so I took it off and threw it into the drawer. Since then, work became my refuge. I busied myself to push aside the churning emotion within. When Adrian would return became a question lost in the whirlwind of activity, a question I no longer cared to answer.

Unexpectedly, he came to the hospital one day to pick me up after my shift. A wave of surprise washed over me as I saw a familiar car parked across the street.

"Why are you here?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. That day was particularly exhausting.

"Did you forget that today is our wedding anniversary?" he answered after opening the door for me.

"Oh," I mumbled, "sorry. I've been really busy and it slipped my mind."

"Madeline, you used to care about this the most, didn't you? How could you forget?" Adrian was stunned for a moment before replying.

In the past, whether it was a wedding anniversary or his birthday, I never forgot. Dinners meticulously planned, decorations painstakingly chosen, all fueled by a need to celebrate and enjoy our time together, to show him how much he meant to me. But, those efforts, once met with smiles and anticipation, were later dismissed as "over the top" and "embarrassing."

I still remembered his words when I decided to throw a surprise party in a restaurant. He said, "Madeline, you're making such a big deal out of this. Everyone's looking at us. It's very uncomfortable, you know?"

I thought he would be happy, but instead, he dragged me away in front of colleagues and friends. So, now, there was really nothing to celebrate. The spark had died out.

"Come on, let's go have dinner and celebrate," he said, ushering me into the car.

As Adrian drove, the silence stretched between us. He stole glances at me, searching my face for a flicker of the old enthusiasm.

"Madeline, what's wrong? Are you upset?" he finally blurted out.

"No." I shook my head.

"No?" he echoed, his voice rising in frustration. "Then why the attitude? Here I am, putting in the effort, picking you up for dinner. Can't you at least pretend to appreciate it?"

"I'm not angry, Adrian."

"Fine!" He let out a long sigh. "I promise, no more contact with Sophie again, Okay?"

I stared at him. Did he really think a simple gesture could erase months of lies and betrayal?

"Are you happy now?" he asked again.

I did not answer and remain silent for the rest of trip. The car drove all the way to a fancy restaurant. Apparently, Adrian had gone all out, reserving a table and even arranging for flowers and a gift.

The scene was a picture of romantic bliss, complete with envious glances from other diners. However, before I opened the gift, Adrian's phone rang.

"Fever? Do you have any medicine?" he asked, answering the call. "I can't take you to the hospital today, I have something to do. What? That high? Okay, wait for me. I'll be right over."

Hanging up, Adrian turned to me, his eyes filled with a mixture of awkwardness and something I could not quite decipher. "Madeline, it's Sophie. Her child has a fever. I need to...."

I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat. "It's fine," I managed, my voice a monotone that surprised even me. "You should go. The child's important."

He stood up and hesitated for a moment before looking at me again. "Wait for me to come back and pick you up. I'll be back soon." With that, he hurriedly grabbed his coat and left.

I was left alone, staring at the half-eaten cake. Rain lashed against the windowpanes, mimicking the tears I refused to shed. After a sigh, I finished the cake, then got up and left.

A cab passed by and I hailed it to go home. However, I did not bring an umbrella, and there was still a bit of a walk from the entrance to our apartment building. The drizzle hit my face, making it very cold.

After I got in and took a shower, I saw Sophie's tweet with a picture. It was Adrian accompanying her and her child. The warm yellow light in their room was a stark contrast to the coldness of the rain outside.