When I first said I wanted to personally design our home, he hugged me and spun me around, saying, "Okay."
At that moment, I truly believed he cherished me above all else.
He remembered, he had to remember.
He must remember that day, when a thug's knife came at him and I unhesitatingly blocked it for him, the wound only a centimeter away from my heart. It made me lie unconscious in the hospital for three days and nights while he wept at my bedside, swearing he'd love me forever.
Sadly, he never truly cared. Or, maybe in his mind, that scar was just a reason for him to be more reckless.
The doctor had warned me that extreme emotional swings could aggravate the nerves around the old wound.
So, I tilted my head back with all my might, trying to suppress the bitterness. Still, my chest felt suffocated.
Later, Willard's call came through with the blaring rock music roaring in the background. "Cynthia, tonight the brothers are throwing me a bachelor party. Go to bed early, don't wait up."
I was silent for two seconds, then answered. "Okay."
At one a.m., I found myself unable to sleep, so I decided to check my social media.
Jasper Zorn had posted a set of photos with the caption: [Celebrating my best bro's last night of freedom!]
In the center photo of the grid, Jolene Star was laughing joyously while holding a glittering bag. She's leaning almost entirely against Willard, whose hand rests firmly around her waist.
The comments section below exploded.
[OMG, isn't that the 'Starry Sky' bag? Willard, you are so generous!]
[These two look so perfect together. What a shame.]
[@Willard, you should be careful. Don't let Cynthia see this!]
I saw Willard personally reply. [Cynthia isn't petty. If she'd make a fuss over something like this, we might as well call off the wedding.]
I shut my phone off expressionlessly.
Willard knew I wouldn't dare, just as he knew I could endure him selling our house, endure him buying Jolene a million-dollar bag and endure every ambiguous excuse of "we're just friends."
But this time, the place in my heart where the knife had pierced seemed numb and I didn't want to endure it anymore.
In the end, I went to the hospital alone for a follow-up check-up.
"How many times have I told you that the wound will hurt on rainy days and that someone must accompany you to apply the medicine on time?"