Chapter 2

At the thought of Connor driving Giselle around, my fork clattered to the ground. Trembling, I bent down to pick it up. When I straightened up, Connor was already standing by the door. Without turning around, he said, "There's an emergency at work. I'll drive you some other time." Then, he hurried off. Half an hour later, I limped to my cubicle and sat down. For some reason, my colleagues were looking at me with pity in their eyes. At the pantry, I heard them gossiping. "Do you mean to say Mr. Green has really abandoned Jane for Giselle?" "Of course. You weren't there to see it, but this morning, Giselle got some blood on her dress because of her period. In front of all the managers, he picked her up in the meeting room and carried her to his office on the top floor." My cup slipped out of my hands and shattered on the floor, cutting their pantry gossip session short. I knelt on the ground and collected the glass shards. Then, I threw them into the bin. That night, I worked overtime until eleven at night. Suddenly, I felt a weight around my shoulders. It was Connor. He'd wrapped his coat around me. "Jane, why didn't you reply to my messages?" I didn't look back at him. Instead, I turned my phone on and checked my messages. "What type of matcha do girls usually like?" Three years ago, I'd asked him to bring me a matcha in the morning. Back then, he eyed me with disdain and shot back, "Jane, you're basically an old hag pushing thirty. Stop following trends and making such disgusting requests." However, he'd just bought me a cup of matcha. When I disregarded the matcha and continued to work, Connor seemed taken aback. "Didn't you make all that fuss because you wanted me to buy you some matcha?" "It's too late. If I drink it now, I won't be able to fall asleep," I replied perfunctorily. After a moment of silence, Connor said, "I'm going to the bathroom. Then, we can head home together." Half a minute later, Connor's phone lit up with a message from Giselle. "Connie, you dummy. Who buys a dozen matchas in one go? Are you trying to turn me into a fat little pig? I'm trembling at the thought of it." When we got home around eleven, I entered our bedroom and began packing my belongings. When Connor emerged from the shower, he noticed that the dressing table was a lot emptier. He frowned and said, "Jane, I'm going on a business trip to Parland. Give me a list of things you'd like me to buy." I replied without thinking, "That's alright. I don't need anything." I'd be leaving in a few days anyway. Why buy unnecessary things? Connor threw his towel onto the bed and questioned coldly, "Did you really hold a grudge against me for the whole day just because I bought you some breakfast, which you didn't really like?" I wanted to tell him I hadn't gotten mad, but he chuckled and continued, "You know I can't stand pretentious women. Jane, you've crossed a line." He strode into the study and slammed the door. In the seven years we'd been together, Connor had given me the silent treatment more times than I could count. I would beg for his forgiveness time and time again. This time, it didn't matter to me anymore. Connor stayed in the study for the whole night, but the knock he expected never came. The next morning, I made two servings of breakfast as always. I'd finished my portion and was about to go to work when Connor walked out of the study and instructed, "Jane, I'm giving you a day off work. Make me a fondant cake with this exact design by five in the evening."