Love Under the Moonlight

The sound of running water from the bathroom stopped. I put down his phone and used the blanket to wipe away the dampness from the corners of my eyes.

A warm body, carrying the scent of cedarwood, approached. His deep, gentle voice sounded by my ear, "Helen, you're still awake? Were you waiting for me to tell you a bedtime story?"

I was an orphan. When we met in our youth, I once envied other children who had parents to tell them bedtime stories. I didn't have that.

At that time, he held me gently with a heartbroken expression and promised, "From now on, I'll tell you a story every day."

He kept his promise. As long as he wasn't on a business trip, I would fall asleep each night to his stories. Listening to his tender voice now, a subtle ache spread through my heart.

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed that the perfect husband before me was secretly keeping a mistress. Perhaps because of the turmoil in my heart, I didn't sleep well that night.

When I woke up in the middle of the night, he wasn't there. I reached out to feel the bed beside me, it was cold.

The phone screen lit up. I clicked it open. A message from the same account as before had arrived, again with a picture and a message.

The photo showed a man's sleeping profile, with a few scratches from a woman's nails on his exposed shoulder.

[Mrs. Hemsworth, I heard today is your wedding anniversary? But I wanted Nick to come to me and he did. He knows it makes me happy.]

[I heard he gave you a yacht? I'm so jealous. But he gave me a private island, haha.]

I turned off my phone and took a deep breath. My pillow was slightly damp. I grabbed a new one and lay down again.

I dreamed of the past. When I was a child, I was abandoned by my parents and raised myself with social aid and scholarships. In high school, I met Nick. He was a vibrant young man, completely different from me.

I was always quiet and reserved, the burdens of life and my past made me unwilling to interact with others. But back then, Nick was like a blazing sun, capable of melting any ice.

His allowance wasn't much, yet he'd rather go hungry than give me most of his money to make sure I had enough to eat.

Later, we got into college. Holding his acceptance letter, Nick came running to me and asked, "Helen, will you be my girlfriend? If you don't want to now, that's okay. I'll wait for you anytime." Looking into his anxious eyes, I nodded.

Visibly relieved, his face lit up with joy. He picked me up and spun me around, nearly tossing his acceptance letter in the process.

At nineteen, Nick snuck out of the boys' dorm late at night to wait for me in the freezing wind. I dashed to him as fast as I could. Smiling, he took off his scarf and wrapped it around my neck.

But it was still cold. To see each other, neither of us wanted to wear bulky clothes. He grinned at me foolishly and said, "Helen, one day, I'll get you the warmest fabric. My Helen deserves the best."

He did fulfill that promise eventually, but he lost his sincerity along the way. In my dream, I asked him, "Nick, would you ever lie to me?"

Nick in my dream shook his head firmly. I asked again, "And what if, one day, you change? You deceive me and have another woman?"

Nineteen-year-old Nick hugged me tightly. "I won't. But if that day ever comes, never forgive him." I nodded. I wouldn't forgive him.

When I woke up again, Nick was already dressed and had prepared breakfast. His movements were calm, as if he hadn't left last night at all.

He said cheerfully, "Helen, today I'm taking you to see an active volcano."