No More Saving Him

It wasn’t until the second morning that I was still feeling dazed.

Soren got up around then. He changed into the clothes I had ironed for him and glanced at me as I set breakfast on the dining table.

"You’re not joining the dance troupe anymore? So you’re just staying at home like this? There isn’t really anything for you to do here, is there?" His voice softened toward the end, carrying a note of confusion.

My hand paused mid-wipe. I looked up at him, only to catch him immediately averting his gaze.

"Have your breakfast at home. I’m not eating. Don’t walk me out. Don’t come pick me up tonight either. I’m going to see Dr. Nadia."

As he spoke, he rubbed his brow at just the right moment, his tone flat and casual.

If this were before, I would have been worried about his condition. Now, all I felt was a chill spreading through my chest.

He was about to turn 28. We were also about to register our marriage.

In previous lives, at this point, I had completely lost the ability to focus on work, spending every day in constant fear and anxiety.

So I had simply quit the dance troupe and truly became a housewife.

Back then, he had thought I was working too hard and had laughed as he said, "Then don’t go anymore. From now on, dance just for me. With me here, what do you still need to worry about?"

I had accompanied him to and from work. He had introduced me openly to his colleagues. He would lift his hand almost proudly, showing off our matching rings.

Now, he looked at me with guarded indifference and told me, "Stop watching me all day. Find yourself something to do."

My breathing hitched. Immediately after came the loud slam of the front door, and the house fell into an eerie silence.

I sat at the table, mechanically picking at the breakfast in front of me. There was still warmth left in it, yet once it entered my mouth, it felt unusually cold.

How did it become like this?

Ever since Soren started treatment, the distance between us had slowly grown. He began to grow impatient with me, resistant to my presence.

After three lifetimes with me, had he finally met his true love?

Saving Soren had become something like a program hard-coded into my fate. Being told so suddenly to give it up made me feel as though I’d lost the center of my life.

I felt like I should rush up to him and demand answers. I wanted to ask him whether all my efforts across those lifetimes were nothing more than a joke to him. I wanted to know if that was the case, why had he still chosen to cooperate with me again and again?

In the end, I pretended that nothing had happened.

I watched helplessly as Soren grew more distant by the day. He was colder toward me, and the words between us grew fewer and fewer.

I watched Dr. Nadia draw closer and closer to him. On several nights, he couldn’t even be bothered to keep up appearances anymore. He took calls from her directly on the balcony.

In the darkness, even with a pane of glass between us, I could still see the smile spreading at the corner of Soren’s mouth.

Then came one evening. Like a resentful wife, I sat stubbornly at the dining table, waiting for him to come home.

It was nearly nine o’clock. After reheating the food more times than I could count, Soren finally returned.

Only this time, he wasn’t alone. Dr. Nadia came back with him.