Contraceptives in the drawer. Matching sets of Joanna's lingerie.
Sometime, without my noticing, a handful of pretty-colored lipsticks had appeared in the pen holder.
A cutesy label stuck to the file rack read: Think of me today too!
So that was what it all meant. The indifference at home. The phone I was never allowed to touch. The nights he slipped out at two or three in the morning, always with some excuse. It was all because he'd found someone more important.
And the life I owed him meant I couldn't even look him in the eye and demand to know why.
I laughed bitterly at myself.
Then I called my lawyer.
"Draw up a divorce agreement. I won't claim a single asset."
I sat alone on the couch and waited until well past midnight before Damien finally came home.
When he saw my face, the smile he'd walked in with faded. Out of habit, he reached for my sleeping pills.
"Can't sleep again? Didn't I tell you not to stay up late?"
I didn't answer. I handed him the signed divorce agreement.
My voice was hoarse.
"She's pregnant. I've thought about it for a long time. Since you love her, I'll step aside. Consider it repayment for saving my life."
Damien paused. A flash of anger crossed his eyes, barely perceptible.
He tore the agreement to shreds.
"Her getting pregnant was something I planned for. Your health has been too poor to carry a child all these years. Her baby will be your baby."
"I'm not divorcing you. After all this time, I'm the only person you have. I'll give you respectability and dignity. But love? All of it goes to her now. I owe her that."
"She and I already talked it through. She doesn't want a title. She just wants to be with me. You don't need to worry about her threatening your position. Just focus on raising the child when it comes, and stop overthinking things that don't matter."
A delayed, wrenching pain bloomed behind my ribs.
I couldn't reconcile the distant man standing in front of me with the boy who'd once sat at my bedside, holding my hand, swearing he would never let go.
Right after college, I'd been diagnosed with early-stage cancer.
My parents had been planning to marry me off for money. The moment they found out I was sick, they disappeared.
Damien gave up his graduate studies and threw himself into the business world.
He clawed his way up from nothing to CEO of a publicly traded company.
He gave me the best medical care money could buy, and I got to love him for a few more years.
During that time, Victoria tried more than once to push me out.
He fought her off by threatening his own life, telling her I would be his only wife, his only love, for as long as he lived.
For a while, I truly believed we were the couple from a fairy tale who'd weathered every storm and finally earned their happy ending.
But reality delivered its blow the moment I let myself believe the happiness would last.
Damien saw the color drain from my face. His tone softened.
"There's nothing wrong with you. I just... don't feel it anymore."
"It's late. Get some rest. I've reassigned Dr. Dickerson to look after her. Your health is more or less stable now. If anything comes up, just go to the hospital."
Dr. Dickerson had taken care of me for five years. A top-tier physician Damien had hired at an exorbitant salary, just for me.
I'd told him before that I was nearly recovered, that I didn't need a personal doctor anymore.
He was the one who'd insisted my condition should never be taken lightly.
I said nothing. I gathered my things and headed for the guest bedroom.
Damien caught my wrist on instinct, then stopped himself.
"That's probably for the best. She's pregnant and emotionally fragile. Separate rooms will give her a sense of security. Tomorrow, find time to move all your things into the guest room."
During chemotherapy.
The pain had kept me up whole nights, and my restlessness kept him from sleeping too.
Once, I'd crept to another room in the middle of the night. He'd been furious. He carried me back to bed.
Back then, he said he couldn't rest easy unless he was right beside me.
That he couldn't settle down unless he could breathe in my scent.
From that night on, for more than two thousand days and nights, we'd fallen asleep in each other's arms.
