Chapter 4

Nora's POV

"Okay," I agreed.

After work, Preston was waiting outside the building right on time.

He'd changed into a casual suit, looking handsome and sharp.

In the car, he handed me a velvet box.

"Open it."

I opened the box—a diamond necklace. Classic style, but not my taste.

I preferred minimalist jewelry. This necklace was too ornate, too flashy.

"Do you like it?" He watched me, eyes hopeful.

"It's nice." I closed the box and casually tossed it in my bag.

Preston seemed to pick up on my coolness. He reached out and held my hand. "Still mad about yesterday?"

"No." I pulled my hand back and looked out the window.

Silence filled the car.

At the restaurant, we were led to a window seat.

The view was beautiful, the atmosphere romantic.

Preston ordered all my favorites and opened a bottle of red wine.

"Nora, I know things have been hard on you lately." He raised his glass, his eyes sincere. "Stella's not doing well. I have to take care of her a bit more. Once she's stable, I'll help her find a place and have her move out."

I looked at him, a wave of sadness washing over me.

He always did this—carrot and stick.

He thought a few sweet words, a necklace, a dinner could erase the wounds in my heart.

"Preston." I raised my glass and lightly tapped his. "Do you really think the problem between us is just because of Stella?"

He froze, clearly not expecting that question.

"What do you mean?"

I looked at those eyes that once held nothing but me, now full of nothing but fatigue and confusion.

"Nothing." I tipped my head back and drained my glass. "Let's eat."

Some things weren't worth saying out loud.

He didn't understand. Or rather, he pretended not to.

Just then, Preston's phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and his face changed.

"Stella? What's wrong? Don't cry, tell me slowly."

He shot to his feet, not even noticing his chair tipping over.

"I'm coming right back!"

He hung up and turned to me, his eyes full of urgency. "Stella fell at home. I have to go check on her."

"I'll come with you." I stood up.

"No, you stay and eat. I'll be back once I handle it." He grabbed his coat and rushed out.

I watched his figure disappear out the restaurant door.

The steak on the table was still sizzling, giving off an enticing aroma.

I sat down, picked up my knife and fork, and slowly cut a piece, placing it in my mouth.

It tasted awful.

I called the waiter over and paid the bill.

Walking out of the restaurant, the cold wind cut into my face like a knife.

I didn't go home. I took a cab to the Hudson River.

The wind off the river was strong, whipping my hair around.

I pulled out my phone and stared at Preston's number on the screen.

My finger hovered for a long time before I finally hit the lock button.

No point calling.

His heart and mind were completely consumed by another woman.

And I was just an irrelevant backdrop.

I sat by the river until midnight, until my hands and feet went numb from the cold, before taking a cab home.

I pushed open the door to find a single dim floor lamp on in the living room.

Preston was sitting on the couch, a half-burned cigarette between his fingers.

Through the haze of smoke, I couldn't read his expression.

He looked up at the sound, his brows knitting tightly. "Where were you? Why are you just now getting home?"

"Just walking around." I changed my shoes and walked straight toward the bedroom without even taking off my coat.

He stood up and grabbed my wrist. His grip was tight, painful.

"Nora Hayes, you don't even want to talk to me anymore?" His voice was tight with restrained anger.

I stopped and turned to face him.

His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw shadowed with stubble. He looked worn down.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked calmly. "Ask how badly Stella fell? Ask why you left me alone at the restaurant? Or ask when you plan to make her move out?"

Preston froze, clearly not expecting me to be so direct.

He let go of my hand and rubbed his temples in frustration. "Stella slipped in the shower and sprained her ankle. She has no one here, I can't just ignore her."

"So?" I looked at him. "Because she has no one, your wife deserves to be abandoned at a restaurant?"

"Can you be reasonable?" Preston's voice rose. "You're an adult, what's so hard about eating dinner alone and taking a cab home? She was hurt, it was urgent. Can you stop being so petty?"

That sentence was like a needle, precisely piercing the softest part of my heart.