Chapter 3

I closed the journal.

Outside, the afternoon sun was bright and warm, but I felt freezing cold.

A soft knock came from the door.

"Coco," my mom’s voice was gentle. "I cut up some fruit. Come have some?"

I took a deep breath, slid the journal back onto the bottom shelf, and opened the door.

My mom was standing there with a plate of neatly sliced apples and oranges.

Her eyes wandered past me to the bookshelf. "Clearing things out?"

"Yeah."

"Your sister’s books..." She hesitated. "Do you want to pack them up?"

I stared into her eyes. "Mom, you and Dad knew about Audrey's diagnosis from the very beginning, didn't you?"

The warm smile on her face froze.

The plate in her hands trembled, an apple slice sliding to the edge.

She walked into my room, set the plate on my desk, and stood with her back to me for a long time.

"We knew."

"Audrey begged us not to tell you. She didn't want to ruin your future in New York."

"And Julian?" I asked, my voice cracking. "When did he find out?"

My mom turned around, her eyes instantly red. "Right after she was diagnosed. That boy... he sat in the hospital hallway all night. The next morning, his eyes were so swollen he could barely open them. He told us he would take responsibility."

"Responsibility?"

"Coco, don't blame him," my mom begged, grabbing my hands. "Your sister... she was in a dark place. If Julian hadn't been there, she wouldn't have survived those years. He gave her peace."

I pulled my hands back slowly. "I don't blame him."

I just finally understood what Julian meant when he said, “I just don't want to lose any more family.”

To him, Audrey's illness, her death, and my parents' aging grief were chains wrapping tightly around him.

And my return was just another chain.

That evening at dinner, my mom suddenly put down her fork and went into her bedroom.

When she came out, she was holding a faded cream-colored envelope. The edges were completely frayed.

"Audrey left this for you," she said, her voice immediately thick with tears. "I never found the right time to give it to you."

I took the envelope.

Julian stopped eating. He stared at the paper, his throat muscles tightening, but he remained silent.

"You guys keep eating. I'll read it in my room."

"Just read it here," my mom pleaded. "We’re all family anyway—"

"Mom," I cut her off, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Back in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed for a long time before carefully tearing open the envelope.

Inside was a stack of letter paper, about ten pages long, covered in Audrey’s handwriting.

It started neat and organized, but toward the end, the letters became jagged and distorted.

“Chloe,

If you’re reading this, I’m already gone.

I’m sorry for writing this. I never had the courage to tell you to your face—but Julian’s choice back then wasn't his. I forced him into it.”

My hands began to shake.

“The day I got my diagnosis, my mind went completely blank. The doctor said three to five years, and the only thought in my head was: I’m going to die.

I was only twenty-six. I had so much left to do.

And then, I thought of Julian.

I know it was pathetic. But when you’re facing death, you become a monster of selfishness.”

I took a deep, shaky breath and kept reading.

“Those three years of marriage were the most painful, yet happiest years of my life.

Painful because of the ALS, happy because of him.

Julian was a perfect husband. He took care of my every need, did physical therapy with me, read me poetry, and held my hand through the night when the pain was too much to bear.

But I knew he wasn't happy.

So many nights, I’d wake up to find his side of the bed cold. I’d crawl to the window and see him standing on the balcony, smoking in the moonlight, looking so incredibly lonely.

Once, I overheard him on the phone with your university advisor, asking how you were doing in America, making sure you had everything you needed.

After he hung up, he stood on that balcony until dawn.

That’s when I realized what a horrible thing I had done.

Chloe, if you hate me, I understand. You should. I stole your first love. I stole the years that belonged to you.

But please... don't hate Julian.

He’s just a fool trapped by his own sense of duty, a coward who was too afraid to admit where his heart truly belonged.

He didn't marry me because of love. He married me because of a wicked, desperate trap I laid that night.”