Keiran used to know Claudette’s cycle like the back of his hand, always reminding her before it began to avoid cold foods and drink hot water.
But tonight, when she dropped a casual hint, he didn’t seem to notice that her timing was off.
It was only a matter of time before the truth unraveled. Keiran’s secretary, Corinne, sent her a request on WhatsApp.
Claudette’s heart skipped as she accepted it, her curiosity tinged with dread as she tapped into Corinne’s moments feed, updated only seconds ago.
[It’s so annoying. I wanted something cold to drink, but he insists it’s my period and won’t let me have anything but hot water,] the post read, accompanied by a candid photo of Keiran carefully selecting menstrual products.
A sharp pang gripped Claudette’s heart; a sudden sting stole her breath. When she finally steadied herself, she realized her eyes were wet. It wasn’t that Keiran had forgotten her cycle; he had simply memorized someone else’s.
[Ms. Williams, don’t you think it’s inappropriate at your age to hold on to Keiran, guilt-tripping him into staying with you?]
[Guilt-tripping?] Claudette typed back, bewildered.
[Keiran told me that since you helped him in the past, he feels obligated to stay with you, even though he wants to move on.]
It felt like something shattered within her, a deep fracture in her heart, breaking something she hadn’t realized was so fragile.
Claudette let out a hollow laugh, tears streaming down her cheeks. So, in Keiran’s heart, their relationship had been nothing more than a sense of duty. In that instant, any lingering attachment dissolved.
She left Corinne’s messages unanswered, yet Corinne continued, proudly detailing the ways Keiran spoiled her. Claudette’s heart shifted from sorrow to tears, and finally, a strange calm settled over her. Everything Keiran once did for her, he now did for Corinne.
That evening, Keiran casually mentioned a business trip to the capital for a few days. Claudette simply nodded, not questioning him. While he was in the shower, she reached for his coat pocket, unable to resist glancing through their messages.
[You promised you’d spend tonight with me.]
[I told you I’d take you to Ice World, didn’t I? Just be patient, alright? I need to keep things quiet over here; otherwise, how am I supposed to slip away with my little temptress?]
In Keiran’s eyes, it seemed Claudette was nothing more than an inconvenience, a barrier between him and his desires.
[Then don’t touch her,] came the response.
[I haven’t touched her. I’m practically drained dry from you; I’ve got nothing left.]
Perhaps because she had already released her hold on him, the messages didn’t stir anything in Claudette. She calmly placed the phone back where she had found it.
As Keiran stepped out of the bathroom, his coat buzzed from across the room. His other phone, however, lay in plain sight beside Claudette on the nightstand. He shot her a sheepish glance. “That’s my work phone. I’ll handle it, and then I’m all yours, okay?”
“Take your time,” Claudette replied, her voice steady. “Work comes first.”
She stood just outside the study, her ear pressed against the door, listening to his soft murmurs as he spoke to the woman on the other end.
“Be good. Get some rest, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When Keiran finally returned, Claudette couldn’t stop herself from asking one last question.
“Keiran, I want to go to the capital with you. I’ve always wanted to see the snow. For someone from the south, snow feels like an irresistible temptation.”
