Chapter 2

The door pulled open. Henry Foster stood in the doorway.

The moment he saw me, his expression changed.

From calm to panicked.

Extremely quick, fleeting panic.

Then back to normal.

"Evelyn, what are you doing here?"

He crouched down and held my hand.

His fingers were as warm and dry as usual.

But I knew these hands had helped Claire Shaw destroy evidence five years ago.

Helped her get a new identity.

Helped her escape legal punishment.

Then married me.

Spent five years putting on an act.

"I came to call you for dinner."

My voice was very calm, even slightly cheerful.

"Have you been waiting long? The soup's gotten cold."

Henry Foster looked at me, seeming to judge how much I'd heard.

I met his gaze without flinching.

"Why are your eyes red?"

He suddenly asked.

"I was cutting onions in the kitchen earlier."

"Why were you cutting onions?"

"Didn't you say yesterday you wanted onion-braised ribeye steak? I figured I had nothing else to do anyway."

Henry Foster was silent for two seconds.

Then he stood up, walked behind me, and gripped the handles of my wheelchair.

"Let the housekeeper do this kind of thing from now on. Your legs aren't convenient. Don't busy yourself alone in the kitchen."

"Okay."

I responded.

Just like every time in the past five years.

Obedient, docile, never objecting.

Dinner was very quiet.

Henry Foster served me food several times, all light vegetables.

"Eat more. You've gotten thinner lately."

"Mm."

I finished the food.

Andy sat across from me, head down eating the whole time, occasionally glancing up at me before quickly looking away.

His eyes looked like his father's.

His lips too.

I used to think this was heaven's compensation to me.

Now I just felt they were strangers.

"Andy, how was school today?"

I asked him.

"It was okay."

He gave a perfunctory response.

"I'm full."

He jumped down from his chair and ran upstairs.

"This child is getting more and more undisciplined."

Henry Foster frowned.

"He's just a kid. Let him be."

I picked up my plate and finished the last bite of rice.

"Henry Foster."

"Mm?"

"Tomorrow I want to go to the hospital for a checkup."

He looked at me.

"Why do you suddenly want a checkup? Are your knees uncomfortable?"

"No, I just haven't been in a while. I'll pick up some medicine while I'm there."

"I'll go with you."

"No need. Don't you have a board meeting tomorrow? Just have Charles drive me. It's not a big deal."

He hesitated, then nodded.

"Then be careful. Call me when you're done with the examination."

"Okay."

I smiled at him.

Just like every time in the past five years.

Gentle, understanding, not needing him to worry.

He also smiled and reached out to hold my hand.

"Evelyn, marrying you is the greatest blessing of my life."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

I pulled my hand from his and picked up the plate from the table.

"I'm going to wash the dishes."

"Let the housekeeper wash---"

"It's fine. I feel like moving around today. You go upstairs first."

He glanced at me, then got up and went upstairs.

I pushed my wheelchair into the kitchen, put the plate in the sink, and turned on the faucet.

The water rushed and splashed.

I listened to the footsteps from upstairs gradually fade away.

Then I turned off the faucet.

I took out my phone and opened a conversation.

Someone I hadn't contacted in a long time.

I typed a message: "Sophia, that Swiss rehabilitation center you mentioned before---can I still go?"

I sent the message.

Then deleted the chat history and put my phone back in my pocket.

Henry Foster's voice came from upstairs.

"Evelyn, are you coming up? I drew you a bath."

I turned my wheelchair around to face the kitchen doorway.

"Coming."

My voice was gentle, with a smile.

Exactly the same as every evening in the past five years.