Chapter 2

The first thing Annabel did was apply to erase all traces of her identity within the country. The second was changing her name. The clerk informed her that everything would be processed within two weeks. After that, Tristan would never find her, even if he scoured the ends of the earth. Annabel turned and walked away. Her phone buzzed nonstop in her bag, and they were all missed calls and messages from Tristan. She didn't check or reply. When she returned to the villa again, the sky had already darkened. Tristan stood in the living room, visibly anxious. When he saw her striding in, he hurriedly asked, "Honey, where have you been? You weren't at home, and I'd waited a few hours! "I almost contacted a search team to look for you!" His worry seemed… convincing. Annabel stared at him, dazed. Her heart felt like it was being gripped by an invisible hand. Her memories took her all the way back to high school. Once, Tristan skipped a math competition just because she had taken an hour too long to reply to his message. He ran back in a panic, thinking something bad had happened to her. What happened to that man who used to love her so selflessly? It turned out, even that kind of love hadn't been hers alone. Her throat tightened, like something was lodged in it. Even breathing hurt as she allowed those memories to settle in. In the end, Annabel calmly replied, "I went shopping. Sorry. I forgot to tell you." Tristan finally relaxed, pulling her into his arms. "Why are you saying sorry to me? I'm not upset; I'm just worried." He kissed the top of her head and said gently, "Anyway, you said the other day you were craving smoked ribs and grilled sea bass, remember? I'll make them for you now. How does that sound?" With that, he released her and headed into the kitchen. Annabel stood quietly by the doorway, watching Tristan. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and his fingers moving deftly as he sliced vegetables. In the warm glow of the kitchen lights, his profile looked almost tender. She suddenly remembered when she had just returned to the country three years ago. Due to her irregular meal habits and long-standing stomach issues, she ended up in the hospital. At that time, Tristan, a billionaire CEO who had never touched a knife, spent an entire month learning how to cook from a top chef just to take care of her. Once, when an international video conference clashed with her mealtime, he had propped up a tablet in the kitchen, cooking vegetables with one hand while hosting the meeting with the other. At that time, the group of executives was stunned speechless. He used to love her so deeply. Just then, Tristan's phone ringing in the kitchen cut through Annabel's memories, dragging her back to reality. She saw how he'd glanced at the phone screen. His expression shifted, and he quickly put down the knife to wipe his hands. "Honey, something came up at work, and I need to drop by," he informed, unfastening his apron, and then planted a kiss on her forehead. "Dinner's pretty much done, so get started without me." Annabel stayed silent and simply nodded as he left. Once the door closed behind him, she walked to the dining table and stared at the steaming dishes. A sudden pain gripped her heart, making every breath feel like a struggle. The call Tristan had taken earlier was from Cassie. Annabel didn't sit down to eat as he had hoped. Instead, she grabbed her phone, flagged down a cab, and followed him. Without surprise, Tristan arrived at the hospital instead of his company. Inside the nearly empty VIP ward corridor, a few doctors and nurses in white coats stood tensely outside a private room. The hospital director was also present, half-bowed with a genuine apology. "We deeply apologize, Mr. Morse. It was our oversight that Ms. Lawrence slipped in the bathroom. "We'll call in more staff right away and ensure mistakes like this won't happen again." Tristan's expression was grim, and his voice was eerily cold. "If it happens again, I'll make sure the hospital closes down for good." The hospital director nodded eagerly. "Rest assured, this will be the last, Mr. Morse!" Annabel stood around the corner, her fingertips digging into her palms. Jack had said Cassie only got some minor scrapes, yet there Tristan was, reserving the whole building for her alone. Now that something had happened, he practically couldn't wait to flip the hospital upside down. The ward door swung open. Cassie leaned weakly against the headboard, pale and on the verge of tears. Tristan hurried in and grabbed her hand. "How are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere?" Her voice trembled through tears. "This is all my fault… Getting hit by a car's one thing, but then falling in the show too? I-I kept you away from Ms. Norton… What if she found out? "I-I'm such a jinx…" "What are you saying?" he chided softly. "Just stay here and recuperate. I'll be here with you for the next few days." Cassie looked up with watery eyes. "What about Ms. Norton?" "I'll handle her. You don't have to worry about it," he said, then paused to add, "Besides, we're husband and wife, aren't we? It's my duty to look after you."