Chapter 5

Cassandra pulled out her phone to make a call. The other party soon picked up. "Cassie?" "Where are you, Cameron?" "In the office. What's going on?" She looked into the rearview mirror and saw Cameron's and Annabelle's reflection—his hand was firmly holding Annabelle's, the other gripping his phone. The scene was ironic. Annabelle seemed intent on speaking, but Cameron raised his hand and stopped her. He pointed at his phone and placed a finger against his lips. "Cassie, do you want me to get you some desserts from the shop in Easthaven? I'll bring them home to you." "I'm good." "I thought you loved their tiramisu cake?" Cassandra said, "Oh, I did, but people change. I might've loved it in the past, but I don't anymore." Cameron's voice was laced with worry. "Cassie, is something upsetting you? You sound off." "I'm fine. Just carry on with your work. Goodbye." … When Cameron returned, he was carrying a mini cake in one hand. Cassandra sat on the floor, sorting through a stack of old photo albums. They had known each other for so long that just the albums from their student years filled four or five thick volumes. Seeing the photos, Cameron seemed momentarily moved. He leaned down behind her, half-wrapping his arms around her waist. "Why are you going through our old photos?" "Why are you home so early?" Cassandra asked. He chuckled. "I missed you, so I came home early." She finished organizing the photo albums and quietly placed them into a cardboard box. Without drawing attention, she slipped a lighter into her palm, then casually tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. She had assumed he would be off spending time with Annabelle and had planned to burn all the albums while he was gone. Now, he had completely disrupted her plan. "Honey, why do I feel like you're not happy to see me home early?" Cassandra stood up and dodged his touch. "Work should come first." However, Cameron stuck to her like a piece of gum on the bottom of her sole. "No, you always come first." He leaned into her ear and whispered, "Honey, I feel like you've been giving me the cold shoulder lately. Did I do something wrong and upset you?" What once felt like sweet intimacy now felt like pure disgust when doubt took root. The arms wrapped around her waist had likely just held another woman; the lips trying to kiss her might've kissed someone else only hours before. That thought alone made Cassandra's stomach churn. Then, there was also the faint scent clinging to him. It wasn't his usual cologne but the smell that lingered in department stores. And who spent a long time in a particular department store? The answer was painfully clear. Cassandra shoved Cameron away and bolted to the bathroom, where she threw up violently. He patted her back while passing her some tissue. His frown and the concerned look on his face didn't seem to be fake. "Why are you throwing up all of a sudden? Is it food poisoning? Lisa!" Lisa quickly darted over. "Yes, Mr. Dorsey?" "What did she have this afternoon? Was the food fresh enough? She has stomach problems, and that's the whole reason why I hired you to cook for her. Why is she throwing up now?" Lisa was startled, to say the least. "Mrs. Dorsey wasn't at home for lunch. She went out. Maybe it was the food outside?" Cameron frowned, his voice low and stern. "Food outside isn't clean, and pre-made meals aren't fresh. If you're hungry, just tell Lisa what you want, and she'll cook it at home. Why insist on going out?" Cassandra was already lightheaded from the excessive puking, and hearing those words only fueled her anger. "Geez, Cameron. Am I supposed to be locked up at home? Do I not have the right to step out of the house?" "I just want to protect you. You worry me when you're out and about alone. You know what? From now on, I'm coming with you whenever you need to be somewhere." She scoffed. "Do you even have the time?" What was he—a robot that could handle work, spend time with his lover, and be her personal assistant all at the same time? Cameron stared at Cassandra for a while, then wiped the sweat on her forehead with a new set of tissues. "What are you talking about? Of course, I'll have the time if you need me to be there for you. After so many years, haven't you realized how much I care about you?" She had definitely realized a lot more than that. Suddenly, Lisa gasped and clapped her hands. "Mrs. Dorsey has been having mood swings lately, and she just vomited… Could she be pregnant?" Cameron was initially dazed, then turned ecstatic. "Cassie, are you—" "No," Cassandra interjected firmly. "I just found your scent a little off, and it made me nauseous. That's all." "No way. We have to go for a check-up—" She roared, "Cameron! You know better than anyone else whether we've done it in the last three months." At that thought, Cassandra couldn't help but find it laughable. For the past three months, Cameron had rarely eaten at home. He always said he had dinner arrangements, that he had already eaten out. At first, she didn't think much of it. Given his status, there was no shortage of people lining up to treat him to a meal. One night, however, while half-watching the TV at home out of boredom, she heard a line that struck a nerve. "When a man stops eating at home, it's usually because he's already full from somewhere else." That single line jolted her awake and tore open a raw, bloody truth. The length of a relationship couldn't prove its loyalty as people changed. What was once real love didn't mean he wouldn't fall in love with someone else later. Cameron looked grim. "So, that's what you've been mad at me about. I'm sorry, Cassie, but the company has been keeping me busy lately. I know I've been neglecting you, but I promise I'll come home for dinner every night from now on, okay?" "I don't need you to do that. I don't want to keep you away from your 'business.'" "Come on, Cassie. There's no need to lash out." "Am I lashing out?" His gaze flickered with a hint of confusion. "I don't get what you mean." Cassandra's eyes fell on his wrist, where a simple red braided bracelet adorned it. It had no jewels, just plain and unadorned. The handiwork was even a little rough, clearly handmade. Dangling from it was a tiny metal charm shaped like a crescent moon. Noticing her gaze, Cameron quickly explained, "Oh, this? The admin team gave them out to everyone at the office—kind of like a token now that summer is approaching. Everyone got one." Cassandra withdrew her gaze. "Oh, is that so?" "Do you like it? I'll tell them to give me an extra one tomorrow." "No, thanks. I hate jewelry." He nodded. "I know that. You've never liked anything that feels like a constraint—necklaces, bracelets, rings, earrings… Every time your birthday or our anniversary comes around, I never know what to get you." "I do have something I want now. Can you give it to me?" Cameron was pleasantly surprised. "Of course. What do you want?" "I want to buy an asteroid and have it named after myself." "That doesn't sound difficult." He pulled out his phone to make a call, adding, "I'll get Harold onto it right now—" "It's okay. I've already picked it out. All that's left is your signature, then the bank can transfer the funds." He nodded again. "Okay. Where do I sign?" "The document will be here in another few days. Once they send it to me, I'll get your signature." "No problem." "Can you head out?" Cassandra asked. "I need to change." Cameron chuckled. "Cassie, we've been together for 15 years." "I don't like being watched while I'm changing." He gently planted a kiss between her eyebrows. "Okay. Whatever you want. I'll wait for you in the dining room. We'll have dinner together." "Sure." Once Cameron left, Lisa followed him out. Cassandra fished out her phone and refreshed her social feed. The very first post was from Annabelle. "May I be the star and you the moon, shining brightly together every night. Almost lost you today, but luckily, he was there to help me find you again." The photo showed her beautiful hand, wearing a handmade red braided bracelet with a small metal charm shaped like a star. It matched the moon charm Cameron wore perfectly. What a pair. Without hesitation, Cassandra set fire to the photo albums, reducing 15 years of memories to nothing. She tossed the ashes into the toilet and flushed it clean.