You Really Thought I Couldn’t Leave You?

The entire day, I kept myself busy, only finding solace in distraction. Yet, the day's busyness granted me only fleeting hope. Alone in the dead of night, I lay on the cold bed, crying uncontrollably.

Damien and I had started dating in college and married shortly after graduation, living in blissful harmony ever since. He understood my quirks, and I understood his unspoken words. When did it start to change?

It was three years ago, that night. The night Leona returned from abroad, and Damien began to change.

After I cried my heart out, I got up, wiped my face, and intended to turn off the light to sleep. Then, a call from the bar came through.

"Hello, is this Mrs. Rook? Your husband is drunk at the bar, and we're about to close. Could you come to pick him up?"

After hanging up the phone, I sat on the bed, unsure whether I should go. He'd been drunk before, once a girl approached him, and he had sternly rejected her. Then, he had called me, sounding so aggrieved.

"Honey, why haven't you come to get me?"

With those words in mind, I dressed and drove to the bar. Inside, I found Damien alone, passed out in a booth. I walked over and tapped his shoulder, and he groggily mumbled, "Matilda."

I sighed and begrudgingly took Damien home. While driving, I said, "Damien, this is the last time I'll come to get you."

Damien mumbled incoherently but said nothing more. His flushed ears made him seem less distant.

At home, I placed him on the bed, intending to change his clothes when the phone rang. It was Leona. Out of spite, I declined the call, but she kept calling relentlessly. Finally, I turned off the phone.

The next morning, Damien woke up, looking puzzled. "You brought me home?"

I smiled and retorted, "Who else did you expect?"

Damien's once gentle expression turned icy again. "I don't want to argue right after I wake up."

Ignoring his irritation, I replied, "In the six years we've been married, haven't our arguments always been because of someone specific?"

Just as Damien was about to lose his temper, a call from Hugo interrupted. He sounded frantic.

"Mr. Rook, Miss Stone had a car accident!"

Damien quickly dressed and rushed out. Curious to see if it was true, I followed him to the hospital.

In the ICU, Leona lay unconscious, hooked up to a breathing machine. Damien's worry and pain were palpable, painful for me to see.

Standing by, I watched as Damien tended to Leona with utmost care, delicately using a cotton swab to moisten her parched lips. Soon, Leona woke up.

The moment she saw Damien, she started crying, a mix of fear and grievance on her face.

Damien immediately embraced her, gently stroking her hair. "Don't be afraid, I'm here."

After her tears subsided, Leona softly complained, "Damien, why didn't you answer my calls last night and turned off your phone? I was so scared, I almost thought I'd die."

Watching them, I felt like an outsider. They seemed like the real couple.

When Damien heard about the phone being turned off, he looked at me with undeniable certainty in his voice. "You turned off my phone?"

My heart couldn't help but tremble again, even though I had indeed done it. Taking a deep breath, I calmly replied, "Yes."