His First Love Came Back , So I Walked Away

I didn't know when I'd passed out. By the time I came to, I was already in the hospital.

My mother was complaining:

"You just had surgery and he still has to go on a business trip? Morris is absolutely unbelievable!"

"Mom, stop. I'm fine, aren't I?"

"Morris has always been like that, completely devoted to his research. So focused, so dedicated. That's what I fell for in the first place."

Back then, I was still busy making excuses for him, forgetting that I was the one who was sick, the one being hurt and ignored.

My heart seized like a fist had closed around it, crushing everything inside my chest.

I dragged myself to the fridge and took out the cake I'd bought for myself.

I blew out the candles. The sweetness of the cake and the salt of my tears went down together.

Starting today, my own feelings came first. Always.

A birthday, and a clean beginning.

The next morning, I woke up and saw that Morris's blog had been updated in the early hours for the first time in four years.

After all these years, you're still the only one who makes my heart race.

The photo was Cassandra, eyes closed, resting peacefully.

She was draped in the blanket I'd left in Morris's car. The IV line was cradled in his palm, warming it for her.

The girl slept so serenely, the man beside her so attentive, so tender. They really did look like a perfect match.

If only that man weren't my husband.

I swallowed the sting rising in my chest and took a cab to apply for my visa and residency permit.

This overseas assignment would keep me away for a long time. I probably wouldn't be coming back anytime soon.

Before I left the country, I would take care of every last piece of paperwork, including divorcing Morris.

In the cab, I got a text from him.

I'll be going abroad for a week soon. Exchanging research notes with a lab overseas.

I glanced at it and didn't reply.

When I arrived at the visa center, I saw them through the glass window. Morris and Cassandra.

They weren't touching. A careful distance separated them. But their eyes kept finding each other, and every glance carried a thousand unspoken words.

I clenched my fists and tried to stay calm, but my chest swelled with something hot and sour. Before I knew it, my feet had carried me closer.

"Morris, your lab is so busy. You really don't have to come with me to Finland."

My breath caught. Then I heard Morris answer, his voice impossibly soft:

"Seeing the Northern Lights is something I promised you a long time ago. I just didn't have the means back then. Now I do. Why wouldn't I make it right?"

"Cassandra, after this trip, I'll go back to being a proper family man. Don't worry."

A sharp, strange pain split through my chest.

Every word carved into me like a blade, stroke after stroke.

When we first got married, I had made the exact same request.

"Morris, look how beautiful the Northern Lights are in these photos! Let's go to Finland for our honeymoon!"

He'd frozen for a second, then refused without a moment's thought.

"No. Finland is too far. I can't take that much time off."

I'd tugged on his arm, coaxing him playfully, and all I got in return was a sudden eruption of anger.

"I said no, Regina!"

"Either pick somewhere else, or we cancel the honeymoon entirely."

So it was never about Finland being too far. Never about missing work.

It was because the person Morris wanted to see the Northern Lights with had always been someone else.

I let out a silent laugh and wiped the cold tears from my cheeks.

Just as well. A week was more than enough time to get everything in order.

By the time I walked out with my visa and residency permit, the sky had already gone dark.

I took a cab home and found Morris and Cassandra standing downstairs.

She was trying to leave, but he had her by the arm, the two of them tangled together.