Chapter 2

I didn't say another word and hung up.

Outside, the rain picked up again, drumming heavily against the glass.

I put my phone on silent.

I stood by the window for a long time.

The window frame was drafty, letting in the biting cold.

Ten years ago, I wasn't like this.

Back then, I was a fresh college graduate with a great job and a comfortable family background.

Brandon had come to my city for a business trip. A mutual friend introduced us, and after a year of long-distance dating, I packed my bags and followed him to Seattle.

At first, my parents were completely against it. They worried I would suffer being so far from home.

But they couldn't win against my stubbornness, and they finally gave us their blessing.

On my wedding day, my mom cried so hard she couldn't speak. My dad just hugged me tightly at the airport and said one thing

If it ever gets too hard, just come home. Your dad can always take care of you.

I had hugged my mom, smiling, and told them not to worry, that Brandon loved me and everything would be perfect.

And Brandon really did treat me well back then.

When we first got married, he saw how exhausted I was commuting on the crowded bus every day. He saved up three months of his salary to buy me a cute Vespa.

I told him he didn't have to, but he insisted his wife deserved the best.

Later, he got promoted. His work became more stressful, and his stomach ulcers got worse.

My heart ached for him, so I quit my job to become a full-time housewife, dedicating myself to cooking healthy, specialized meals for him.

Every day, I would prepare his lunch and ride my Vespa for twenty minutes to deliver it to his office.

At first, he told me not to do it because it was too much trouble.

But I told him I loved doing it. Seeing him eat my food made me feel secure.

And I did that for ten years.

Over those ten years, I gave birth to a daughter and a son. My body stretched and changed, and I could never get back to my pre-pregnancy shape.

I poured all my energy into this family—cooking for him, nursing the babies, cleaning the house, doing the laundry.

I had no time to dress up, and honestly, nowhere to dress up for.

The most expensive makeup I owned was bought for our wedding, and it had expired years ago.

It wasn't that I didn't notice myself aging.

Sometimes, when I looked in the mirror and saw the fine lines around my eyes and the gray hairs peeking through, I would feel a pang of sadness.

But I always thought, We're a family. He would never judge me.

For ten years, I always left immediately after dropping off his lunch, never lingering.

Until today.

The storm was terrifying. I had wrapped his lunchbox in three layers of waterproof bags, but I got completely soaked.

By the time I reached his office lobby, my jeans were wet to my thighs, and water was dripping from my hair.

I just wanted to sit in the lobby for a few minutes. Just until the rain eased up.

Just a few minutes.

But he didn't care at all if I caught a cold. He only cared that I was an embarrassment to his image.

Pulling myself back to reality, I looked at the credit card in my hand.

There was $25,000 on it.

It was the nest egg my mom had given me when I got married. She told me to keep it safe, saying that a woman always needs her own money, no matter what.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my mind a chaotic mess of memories and regrets.