3: 3
Lawrence didn't answer for a long time.
I spent half the night packing up the apartment.
Ten years together. There was a lot to sort through.
And even more shared memory folded into it.
Every sharp table corner in the place, for instance, was wrapped in a padded guard, something Lawrence had designed himself.
"Cecily is sensitive. She bruises easily inside. I want our home to be as soft as she is."
Or the way the whole place was done in pale colors.
"The doctor said pale tones ease the nerves. It'll help with your anxiety."
The flowers on the balcony too, every color, giving off that clean, fresh smell.
All because the doctor had said a few more plants around the house would lift my mood.
So Lawrence, who was allergic to pollen, put on a mask and tended to them faithfully, day after day.
Maybe it was because he'd been so perfect back then.
That was why, later on, the smallest change in him would leave me clinging and afraid of losing him.
My phone lit up with a message.
It wasn't Lawrence.
It was Susannah.
*Everyone, my Lawrence was so brave today, that huge roach, and he killed it in one hit!*
*I was so scared of the roach I couldn't even move, so my Lawrence just swept me up bridal-style and carried me outside.*
Then she attached a photo.
Shot from below, Susannah tucked into Lawrence's arms.
*Doesn't it look just like a girlfriend's-eye view?*
My mood stayed level.
*It does. The two of you suit each other.*
I could even reply to her.
The screen showed it for a long while: the other party is typing…
Then, two minutes later.
Susannah recalled every one of those messages.
*Oh no, so sorry! I meant to post that in the company group chat as a joke.*
*I really wasn't trying to hurt you.*
The old me, I thought, would definitely have been angry.
The doctor's questions surfaced in my mind, the ones he'd pressed on me over and over before the surgery.
"Miss Gilbert, are you truly sure you want the amygdala removed?"
"Even though afterward you won't cling or panic anymore and your moods will be very stable, feeling nothing at all may not be a good thing either."
"I'm afraid you'll regret it."
And right now, I didn't regret it at all.
If anything, there was a faint sense of relief.
The phone rang, and it was Susannah, of all people.
That soft, coaxing voice, with a hint of showing off tucked underneath.
"Miss Gilbert, I really didn't mean it."
"Please, you mustn't be upset with me, okay~"
I was more grateful than ever that I'd had that surgery.
The whole world was genuinely convinced I was a sensitive woman who got angry easily.
"I'm really not angry."
I explained it patiently, and I meant it.
But the other end went quiet for a long time.
Then came the soft crying.
"Miss Gilbert… please, stop scolding me, I honestly didn't mean to send it to you! At the office we all call Mr. Landon 'my husband' as a joke, just coworkers messing around, I swear!"
"You can yell at me all you want, just don't make yourself sick over it!"
And right after that, Lawrence's voice, furious.
"Cecily! If you're angry, take it out on me! What kind of person picks on Susannah?! Ha, you say you're not angry, but inside you're nothing but small and petty!"
"Lawrence."
"Believe me or don't. I wasn't trying to fight. I only wanted to remind you to check the chat."
