A Heart Gone With the Wind

Lately, Taylor would bring up our age gap every time we fought.

Yes, compared to Yvonne, I wasn't a little girl anymore. Whenever he brought it up, I'd lose control. I'd yell and demand if he'd fallen for another girl. It only made him more irritated with me.

Not this time, though. I replied indifferently, "I never thought that. You can believe whatever you want."

Then I limped off to the guest room.

Whenever we argued, Taylor would make me sleep in the guest room. If I resisted, he'd lock the door to the master bedroom and leave me crying outside.

However, as I took the initiative this time, Taylor suddenly carried me back to the master bedroom.

"Faith, stop being so stubborn!"

Even though we lay on the same bed, there was enough space between us to fit another person.

Taylor was keeping his distance because of my swollen ankle, whereas I was keeping mine because I couldn't bear his touch anymore.

It hadn't always been like this. I used to curl up in his arms every night for a sense of security. But now, I couldn't sleep a wink due to his presence.

The next morning, I asked Taylor to call in sick for me so I could stay home and rest.

On the day I finally recovered, I came across an Instagram story of one of Taylor's childhood friends. They'd gone hiking. Everyone else had brought their girlfriends along, and Taylor had brought Yvonne.

In the video, Taylor was very protective of Yvonne, who leaned into him with a soft, shy smile.

I casually gave the story a like.

Moments later, it was deleted, and Taylor's video call came through.

He seemed to be hiding somewhere quiet as he spoke hesitantly, "Faith, don't overthink it. I didn't invite you to hike with us because of your ankle."

"Overthink what?"

"I brought Yvonne along instead of you… You're not mad?"

"Why would I be? You said it yourself—I couldn't have gone anyway because of my injury."

My voice was utterly calm without a trace of sadness or anger in it.

Taylor went silent.

Then, Yvonne's saccharine voice rang out in the background, "Faith, I was the one who begged Taylor to let me tag along when I heard he was going. Please don't misunderstand."

If one listened closely, there was a hint of smugness she couldn't quite hide.

"Yvonne, enjoy your hike with Taylor. I'm sure he'll take good care of you," I answered evenly and hung up the phone without waiting for a response.

It wasn't a lie. I did believe he'd take good care of her. After all, when Yvonne got drunk the other day, he had abandoned me despite my injuries and rushed to her side.

That night, Taylor came home with my favorite food. He kept observing my expression, as though hoping to spot some trace of anger.

Too bad for him—I wasn't angry.

After I showered, he handed me a dress.

"Babe, it's been a while since you bought new clothes. Try this one and see if you like it."

I looked down at the dress in my hands. It was obviously not my style. After accepting it, I looked up at him and saw only my reflection in his eyes.

Taylor's gaze was tender. It was hard to believe he didn't love me when he looked at me like that. I used to be obsessed with that look, wishing he'd never take his eyes off me.

But now, I lowered my head and avoided his gaze.

"The dress is beautiful, but it's not for me. You should give it to someone who suits it better."