Chapter 3

3.

Isaiah didn't come home that night. I didn't call to ask where he was.

I already saw it on Elara's Instagram.

After they left the hospital, they went straight to her luxury apartment on the Upper East Side to announce the pregnancy to the Vance family.

In the photo, Elara's grandmother was warmly holding Isaiah’s hand. His other hand was gently resting on Elara's stomach, his smile tender.

In the five years we'd been together, Isaiah had only come to my family's home on the Upper West Side once, right after I proposed.

Even though our families lived less than twenty minutes apart, he had never visited on his own initiative before.

He said he wasn't good with elders, that it made him uncomfortable.

Even that one time, he was polite but distant, nothing like the warmth he showed the Vance family in the picture.

I pushed down the bitterness in my throat and turned off my phone.

The next day, I met up with a few friends to tell them the wedding was canceled.

Isaiah had originally said he didn't like weddings, calling them meaningless ceremonies.

He only reluctantly agreed to a small wedding with just our closest friends and family because I insisted.

Everyone knew how I felt about Isaiah, so they were shocked to hear the news.

"Haven't you been in love with him for years? You're finally about to marry him, how can you just let go?"

A sharp pain pricked my heart.

Could I let go? Of course not.

I had chased Isaiah for over a decade before he finally agreed to marry me.

Giving up on this relationship was easier said than done.

But the truth was, our relationship had been unbalanced from the start.

It was always me chasing after him.

He never once stopped for me.

I used to not care. I thought if I could get him to marry me after ten years, I could surely win his heart eventually. It was just a matter of time.

We would have a long life together after the wedding. I could wait.

But ever since Elara, his "savior," showed up six months ago, everything changed.

I realized that Isaiah wasn't cold to everyone.

He was always gentle with Elara but couldn't spare a single smile for me.

Back then, I comforted myself by saying she had saved his life.

He was just repaying a debt.

But when he learned Elara was diagnosed with late-stage ovarian cancer, he actually agreed to donate his sperm so she could have an heir!

Worse, while he was pretending to ask for my permission, he had already gone through with it and gotten her pregnant.

In that moment, I knew with absolute clarity that Isaiah and I were finished.

No matter how hard it was to let go of a decade of feelings, I had to be ruthless and cut the cord.

I didn't tell my friends the reason, only that I was heading to Boston for a research project and would be out of contact for a long time.

As an apology, I stayed out with them late into the night.

When I got home, Isaiah had just returned as well.

He caught a whiff of the alcohol on me, frowned, and took a step back, covering his nose and mouth. His voice was laced with disgust.

"Stay away from me. Don't get that smell on me."

I laughed at myself.

He was probably worried the scent of alcohol would bother Elara.

After all, she was a pregnant woman now.

It was so obvious, it seemed he wasn't even trying to hide it.

But since he wasn't saying it out loud, I wasn't going to bring it up either.

Without another word, I went to take a shower.

When I came out, Isaiah was on his phone, typing quickly, a smile playing on his lips.

I glanced at him once and was about to head to the bedroom.

But then he suddenly stopped me. "We need to talk."

I froze.

The last time I heard those words was a month ago, when he first brought up the idea of being a donor for Elara. We fought for a solid month after that.

Now that she was already pregnant, what else was there to talk about?