This time, he didn’t reply.
It wasn’t until 1 a.m. that Justin finally came home.
When he saw me sitting silently on the sofa, his eyes flickered in surprise. Then, with a guilty expression, he knelt down beside me and gently took my hand in his.
“I’m sorry I didn’t go to the concert with you,” he said softly. “It was my fault. Selena just got divorced… she wasn’t in a good state of mind. I was afraid she might do something reckless, so I stayed with her a little longer.”
“I was planning to come back and go with you, but she promised that if I went with her instead, she wouldn’t do anything irrational. She’s your blood sister, after all. I couldn’t just turn my back on her. Can you understand?”
My tears had long dried. I slowly pulled my hand from his grasp, my voice hoarse and drained.
“I understand.”
It didn’t matter anymore. In less than a month, whatever he did with Selena would no longer concern me.
Seeing my silence, Justin continued coaxing me.
“Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the shooting range. Didn’t you say you’ve always wanted to try it? I’ll call and make a reservation right now. Can you give me a chance to make it up to you?”
I said nothing. For Selena’s sake, he—someone who had once prided himself on never breaking a promise—had started lying.
I was afraid… afraid that if I hoped for even a little, that hope would be shattered all over again.
Justin returned to the study. A moment later, my phone buzzed.
It was Selena. She had sent several photos and videos.
They were shamelessly boastful.
“Don’t blame Justin. I divorced Benny and he was worried about me, so he stayed with me all night. I didn’t know you had concert plans today. If I had, I definitely would've told him to go with you. After all, you are his wife.”
Her tone was sugary, but the images told another story.
In one photo, Justin had his arms wrapped tightly around her, massaging her head with care.
In another, his eyes were red-rimmed with concern as he sat by her bedside, holding her hand tenderly.
And in a video—Selena, drunk and weeping, looked straight at him.
“If I asked you to divorce Thalia and marry me right now… would you do it?”
Justin was silent for a long moment. Then, he answered slowly.
“I would. For the past ten years, there hasn’t been a single moment I didn’t think of you… didn’t want to marry you.”
Hearing those words, I couldn’t help but laugh.
I covered my face, laughing so hard my body trembled as tears streamed between my fingers.
I slumped back on the sofa, utterly drained of strength.
Justin had already showered. When he saw my expression, he walked over without saying a word, bent down and scooped me into his arms, carrying me straight into the bedroom.
He leaned over me, gently kissing my face, his voice low and husky.
“Baby, I’m sorry I hurt you. It was my fault. I won’t do it again.”
As he spoke, his hands began to roam my body. The scent on his skin and the familiarity of his touch filled the air with heat and tension.
Just then, I suddenly pushed him aside and sat up.
“You can sleep in the guest room tonight.”
Justin froze, clearly startled by my sudden movement. When he heard my words—words that drew a line between us—his expression darkened and his emotions exploded.
“Thalia! What the hell are you thinking? I already explained everything to you and apologized. Are you really going to keep dragging this out? It was just a concert. Is sleeping in separate rooms really necessary?!”
I looked up at him and let out a bitter smile.
“Am I the one making a fuss? Justin, you promised to go to the concert with me. But the moment Selena said one thing, you forgot me completely. Do you even know where your heart really is anymore?”
“What are you implying? There’s nothing going on between Selena and me. But if that’s how you want to think, go ahead. I’m not going to argue with you.”
With that, he grabbed a blanket and walked out.
My fingernails dug into my palms as I sat there forcing a bitter smile, mocking myself in silence.
He didn’t even care enough to explain anymore.
***
The next morning, Justin made breakfast like usual.
He made my favorite egg pancakes, urged me to sit down and thoughtfully served me a bowl of porridge.
“I’m sorry for breaking our plans yesterday,” he said gently. “I remember all your favorite things and I’ll always keep my promises to you.”
His warmth wrapped around me like a soft blanket—and for just a moment, I almost forgot.
I almost forgot who those gentle promises were truly meant for.
