A Promise We Couldn't Keep

He lifted me into his arms and gently laid me down on the bed.

Pinned beneath him, I felt his kiss traced all over my body.

His hand slid along my leg, fingertips brushing against my skin.

A shiver ran through me, completely out of my control.

That night, Noah lost himself completely.

But not once did he mention why he had disappeared for two years.

And I didn’t dare ask—afraid that if I did, this fragile moment of happiness would shatter.

…

For the next two weeks, aside from work, I was practically glued to Noah’s side.

When he worked late, I sat quietly by his desk, reading.

When he had free time, I dragged him to food stalls, making him try every kind of street food.

After dinner, we drove to the beach.

Like when we were kids, we chased each other along the shore, laughter ringing through the night.

Standing in the shallow tide, I held my canvas shoes in one hand while splashing seawater at Noah with the other.

He wasn’t quick enough to dodge, and his shirt was drenched in an instant.

Feigning annoyance, he strode toward me with purpose and threw me over his shoulder.

I kicked my legs in the air, squirming. "Okay, okay! I was wrong! Noah, put me down!"

He smacked my backside playfully. "Save your strength. You’ll need it later."

The full moon hung high, casting silver light over the waves.

Outside the car window, the tide rolled in, crashing against the shore in rhythmic waves.

But it was nothing compared to the storm inside the backseat.

Fingers intertwined, breath mingled, Noah traced his teeth over my earlobe, his voice hoarse as he whispered over and over, "Chloe, I love you."

…

On the fifth day of Noah’s business trip, I got a call from one of Simon’s buddies.

"Chloe, you need to come to the hospital. It’s Simon… he got into a fight at a bar tonight, and now he’s in the emergency room. He was unconscious, but the whole time, he kept calling your name."

I was standing at a jewelry counter in a department store, picking out a watch for Noah.

Without missing a beat, I handed the one I chose to the sales associate. "This one, please. Thank you."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line.

"Chloe? Are you listening?"

I turned, leaning back against the counter. "If he’s still in the ER, then you guys should stay with him. I’m not a doctor. I can’t save him even if I go.

"And one more thing—don’t ever call me about Simon again. I don’t care."

With that, I ended the call.

After paying for the watch, I left the store in a good mood.

On the way home, I even stopped by the supermarket to pick up groceries.

Noah was coming back tonight.

I wanted to cook for him myself.

…

Around seven, the doorbell rang.

I rushed out of the kitchen to open the door with a smile.

But the moment I saw who was standing there, my smile froze.

It was Noah’s mother, Grace White.

…

The living room was eerily silent, the only sound was the rhythmic tick-tock of the clock on the wall.

Grace sat on the sofa, idly twisting the massive diamond ring on her middle finger as her sharp gaze swept over the room, taking in every detail.

I carefully poured a glass of warm water and set it down on the coffee table in front of her.

"Miss Sanders, have a seat. We need to talk."

Her presence was commanding, leaving little room for argument.

I lowered myself onto the sofa across from her, my hands stiff in my lap, feeling uncharacteristically uneasy.

Without a word, she reached into her orange Hermès bag and pulled out a document, sliding it toward me.

"This is Noah and Sharon’s marriage certificate."