The day before my due date, my husband Jesse Gilbert left a divorce agreement on the table and went back to his first love, Effie Simmons.

I hemorrhaged on the operating table and nearly died. The baby didn't make it.

It was my childhood friend Mark James who stayed by my side and helped me crawl out of the darkness.

One week before our wedding, I came home early to surprise him, only to overhear his phone call with a friend.

The voice on the other end said：

"Didn't you only get with Noreen Thomas because of Effie Simmons? You're really going through with the wedding?"

He was standing with his back to the light. I couldn't see his face. All I heard was a long, heavy silence.

"I finish what I start. That's always been my rule."

The friend laughed： "Wait, don't tell me you actually fell for Noreen?"

"You're a grown man. If you love her, just admit it."

"Honestly, bro, Noreen's way better than that Effie chick."

Mark let out a quiet laugh.

"Sure, whatever you say. Just get here early the day before the wedding to help out. Noreen's health isn't great, so I need you guys to help me set up."

The call ended. The apartment fell silent.

I must have been crouching too long. My whole body had gone numb, and my hands were shaking beyond my control.

I choked everything down and called my brother with trembling fingers.

"Landon Thomas, book me a one-way ticket to London. As soon as possible."

……

The second I killed the screen, Mark pushed open the study door.

"Noreen, you're back already?"

He froze for a beat, then recovered just as quickly.

I braced myself against the wall and stood, forcing a smile onto my face.

"Dinner wrapped up early. I brought you some soup. You've been working so hard on the wedding."

"Legs fall asleep?"

He pulled me down onto the couch and knelt to massage my calves, easy and natural, like he'd done it a hundred times before.

His fingertips were the same temperature they'd always been, but now every point of contact stung like a needle pressing into my skin.

My heart lurched. I caught his wrist and stopped him.

"I'm fine, really. Go drink your soup while it's hot."

Mark pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his smile soft and indulgent.

"Okay. Thanks, wifey."

He had barely opened the container when his phone rang.

I watched him frown, so slight it was almost invisible. He hesitated, then answered.

"Hey, Effie."

His voice softened without him even realizing it, the crease between his brows smoothing out, his whole posture loosening.

I couldn't hear what she said, but halfway through the call he glanced at me, and there it was: a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

"Sure, I'll have my assistant send you the address. You can come by early tomorrow."

He hung up and turned to me, keeping his tone deliberately casual.

"Noreen, Effie's back in the country. She wants to come to the wedding. She's suggesting we all grab dinner tomorrow first."

A roar filled my ears. Something seized my heart and squeezed, sharp and merciless.

The heater was on full blast, but cold seeped up from somewhere deep inside my bones.

I had known Mark James for over thirteen years, and in this moment he felt like a complete stranger.

He knew I couldn't stand Effie Simmons. He knew she was the reason I'd lost my baby. He knew this would tear me apart.

And still, he'd invited her to my wedding, to watch the very charade she had set in motion.

His devotion was a lie. His love was a lie.

What I'd believed was my salvation turned out to be just another abyss.

The corner of my mouth curled in a bitter, self-mocking arc. I forced the tears back before they could fall.

"Sure,"

I heard my own voice, so light it could have floated away,

"let her come. The more the merrier."

Mark visibly relaxed, reaching over to pinch my cheek：

Noreen is so understanding.

Understanding? So being "understanding" meant I had to let the woman who destroyed my last relationship come watch my wedding.

He held me as we fell asleep, same as every night. But sleep wouldn't come.

At some point in the dead of night, the warmth behind me vanished.

Mark had slipped out of the room.

I followed. He was on the balcony, smoking, one cigarette after another.

A dull ache twisted through my chest. Even his silhouette carried a sadness that wouldn't dissolve.

He'd quit smoking after we got together because I hated the smell. But Effie Simmons had broken that promise too.

I pulled my gaze away and crept into the study.

The drawer beside his desk was unlocked tonight. Buried at the very bottom was a journal.

My breath caught. My hands shook as I opened it.

The inside cover was filled with Effie Simmons's name, written over and over. Photographs of her were tucked between the pages.

I turned through them. Page after page of dense, cramped handwriting, pouring out his love for her.

If what Mark gave me was gentle warmth, what he felt for Effie was a blaze. Scalding and all-consuming.

Love and the absence of it were both so painfully obvious.

No wonder he never let me clean this room.

Noreen, don't worry about the study. I'm afraid you'll reorganize something and I won't be able to find my files.

It was never about the files. It was about keeping his feelings hidden from me.

Tears slid down my face. My heart felt like it was being carved open.

My phone screen lit up. A message from Landon.

【Noreen, the earliest flight is a week from now. I already booked it. I'll be here waiting for you.】

I stared at the screen and wiped the cold tears from my cheeks.

On the day of the wedding, I would vanish from Mark's life for good.

Seeing Effie Simmons again left me slightly dazed.

The four of us had attended the same university. Jesse and Effie were the golden couple everyone envied back then.

But it didn't last. Effie transferred abroad and broke things off with Jesse, and he and I gradually grew closer.

What I never expected was that Jesse had never forgotten her. And neither had Mark, the boy I'd known for thirteen years.

……Noreen.

Effie looked at me with guilt pooling in her eyes, her voice catching.

"Noreen, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd agree to see me."

She and I had been friends in college. I never imagined things would end up here.

As she walked over, her heel caught on something and she stumbled. Mark, right beside her, caught her arm before I could blink.

"Careful!"

Their eyes locked. Mark pulled his hand away fast, but not fast enough to hide what I saw in his gaze.

I forced a smile and took the gift she held out.

"It's fine. That's all in the past."

"Come sit down, let's figure out what to order."

Mark sat beside me, but his eyes kept drifting to her, glance after quiet glance.

"I'll eat anything. You all decide."

Effie handed the menu to Mark. He ordered without hesitation.

"We'll have the tea-smoked shrimp, the bisque, the pan-seared sea bass……"

Mark stopped.

Every dish he'd ordered was one of Effie's favorites. And I couldn't stand the smell of seafood. I didn't eat any of it.

I looked at him. A sharp, sudden pain split through my chest.

"Noreen, I……"

I shot to my feet, nearly knocking my chair back, and all but fled the table.

"I need the restroom. Go ahead and order."

I stood in front of the mirror, gasping for air in ragged gulps.

I'd told myself I was ready for this. That I'd braced for it. But watching him rattle off her favorite dishes without a second thought still tore me apart.

By now, I already knew.

In his heart, she would always come first.

On my way back from the restroom, I spotted Mark and Effie in the stairwell landing.

She was crying hard, her reddened eyes fixed on him with pitiful desperation.

"Mark, does Noreen still blame me?"

He was silent for a few seconds, then pulled back the hand he'd been about to reach out.

"Effie, what you and Jesse did back then was truly unforgivable."

"You could've told her the truth. Instead, you two ran off together while she was pregnant."

"Do you know Noreen nearly didn't make it off the operating table? You two……"

Effie's sobs grew louder, and Mark didn't finish.

However long she cried, he stood right beside her. It never once crossed his mind whether I'd already come back.

Her breathing slowly steadied. Mark handed her a tissue and sighed.

"Effie, after you attend our wedding, I don't want you or Jesse showing up again. It's too cruel to Noreen."

The fire door swung shut. They left.

I leaned against the cold wall, hollowed out from the inside.

Mark knew everything, and still he chose to be the one carving out my heart.

In front of Effie he put on a show of defending me, yet he couldn't stop himself from being gentle with her.

Compared to what Jesse and Effie had done, everything Mark did was crueler.

His eyes, his words, his every gesture were a blade, etching themselves into my heart stroke by stroke, deep and heavy, until the cuts bled.

By the time I returned to the table, all the dishes had been served.

Mark looked up the moment he saw me, his face tight with worry.

"Noreen, you were gone so long. Are you feeling okay?"

I shook my head. He slid my favorite dishes closer to me.

An awkward silence settled over the table. Effie glanced at me, then smiled and asked：

"Noreen, how's your recovery going? Have the complications from the hemorrhage cleared up?"

The words hit me like a fist. My fingers clenched around my silverware and my chest seized, panic flooding in before I could stop it.

That baby who never got to be born was still my deepest wound. For years, everyone around me had carefully avoided the subject. I'd avoided it myself.

Effie bringing it up so bluntly was a direct, brutal blow.

The silverware slipped from my hands. I pressed my palm over my chest and gasped for air, one ragged breath after another.

Before I could say a word, Mark was already pulling me to my feet. He turned to Effie, his expression cold for the first time, his voice sharp for the first time.

"Enough!"

"I don't know what you're really after by coming back, but if you keep disrespecting my wife, then don't bother showing up to our wedding."

He swept me into his arms and walked out without another word.

"Mark, that's not what I meant!"

His steps faltered for a beat. He didn't turn around.

Back in the car, Mark ran his hand over the top of my head, slow and soothing.

"It's okay, Noreen. Don't be scared. I'm right here. It's all over now."

When we got home, he warmed a glass of milk for me, held me in his arms, and coaxed me to sleep.

I drifted off in a haze, only to be jolted awake in the middle of the night by a crack of thunder.

The room was pitch black. I was alone.

Mark was gone.

I checked my phone. No messages from him. I called several times. Every call went to a busy signal.

He had never disappeared without a word before.

Rain lashed against the window. Terrified something had happened to him, I called every friend of his I could think of.

Reg Gilbert's voice came through low and halting, barely above a whisper.

"Noreen, Mark's at the hospital. We all are."