Chapter 3

3

I didn't sleep at all. I sat on the sofa, staring at the front door until the sun came up.

Finally, I heard the key turn in the lock. Yasmine walked in and saw me sitting there.

She walked over and wrapped her arms around my neck, testing the waters.

"Ian, honey, you're not still mad about last night, are you?"

She smelled like expensive cigarettes. I don't smoke.

As she leaned in, I saw a faint, red hickey hiding under the edge of her collar.

She tried to kiss me, but I pulled back. The thought of her mouth on mine made me feel physically ill.

Yasmine looked shocked that I rejected her. Realizing I was truly angry, she pulled a small box from her purse.

"Look, I got you a gift. New cufflinks!" she said, trying to play the doting partner.

It was exactly like a scene from a movie where a cheating husband buys jewelry to ease his guilt.

I didn't take the box. I looked her in the eye.

"Do you actually want to marry me?"

Yasmine immediately put on a pouting, victimized face.

"Of course I do… just not right this second."

I let out a sharp, dry laugh. In the past, seeing her look sad would have broken my heart.

Everyone knew I spoiled her. I never let her suffer even the slightest inconvenience.

In the two years Caleb was gone, she used to cling to me and ask when we'd get married.

Back then, we were broke graduates. I worked overtime for years just to buy this house and renovate it exactly to her taste.

I squeezed my fists until my joints popped.

"Do you have any idea how much my mother wanted to see us get married?"

Yasmine's patience was paper-thin. If I didn't give in within two sentences, she got angry.

"I know! And I will! Is your mom on her deathbed or something? Why is everyone in such a rush?"

My mother was in the final stages of stomach cancer. Yasmine knew she was sick, but she never cared enough to ask for details.

I had asked her multiple times to visit the hospital. She always said she was "too busy with work."

Was she busy? Or was she just with him?

My best friend, who works at the mall, had called me several times saying he saw Yasmine holding hands with another man.

I started shaking with rage. I slammed my fist onto the coffee table.

"Yes! She has two months left! Are you happy now?"

It was the first time I had ever yelled at her. She froze, either shocked by the news or my tone.

Then, she covered her mouth and looked at me as if I had just slapped her.

"I didn't know! Why are you being so mean to me?"

She turned and ran into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.