chapter 4

The smoke in the air was thick, and it started making my stomach feel uncomfortable again.

I turned away, not wanting to look at him. I honestly didn't have the energy to argue.

"Maverick, our anniversary is August 15th, not July 15th."

He paused, the cigarette halfway to his mouth. After a second, he looked at me. "I just got the date wrong."

He put out the cigarette and reached for my hand. "I promise you I'll remember it next time. Just give me one more chance."

He'd said something like that years ago when we got married.

Back then, he promised, "I'll treat you well as my wife."

To be fair, he did keep that promise.

People around us always said Maverick was a great husband. He never forgot special dates, always showed up with flowers and gifts.

He used to hold my hand in public, show affection, and take care of everything for me.

He acted so well that I almost believed he also had feelings for me.

I didn't realize the truth until I heard him say he never loved me.

His heart had always belonged to Reagan.

"Let it go, Maverick. I've made my decision."

"I won't accept this," he replied, clearly annoyed.

"I'll file for separation. Even if you refuse, we'll be divorced in two years."

Ignoring him, I turned and left.

Back at Mabel's place, I fell asleep the second I lay down. By the time I woke up, the sky outside was already dark.

My throat felt dry. When I opened the door, Mabel was leaning on the balcony railing, looking outside.

"Stephie, you're finally awake. If you slept any longer, Maverick would've turned into a statue."

I filled a glass with water and drank it in one go.

"Huh?" I didn't hear her until I finished drinking.

"Maverick has been waiting for you downstairs for a long time," Mabel explained. "He came up and knocked, but I didn't let him in. He's been outside since then."

She pointed at the cloudy sky. "Looks like it's about to rain again. Should I let him in? I think he's serious this time."

I looked down from the balcony. Sure enough, there he was.

He leaned on the car, his tall figure still and silent.

I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He said he didn't love me. Divorce should've been what he wanted.

So why was he here? Trying to fix things?

Mabel was right. The rain soon started falling. Maverick didn't move, not even to get into the car.

The rain quickly soaked through his clothes.

Mabel looked worried. "Let him come inside, Stephie. Think this through. Maverick never truly treated you badly. Maybe it's worth having a real talk with him."

...

When Maverick came upstairs, Mabel gave us some space.

"Come home with me, Stephie," he said.

At that moment, I was scrolling on my phone.

Reagan had posted a tweet—a photo of a man holding a hairdryer with the caption.

"This is what happiness looks like. I've waited so long for this."

I recognized that hand. I knew that wedding ring even better.

It was Maverick.

We'd been married for seven years, and not once had he ever dried my hair.

Love was obvious, and so was the lack of it.

"Are you upset because I forgot the date? Or because I chose to be with Reagan instead of you?"

Seeing me stay quiet, Maverick continued, "She just got back and had no place to go. I'm the only one she can rely on. You know she's an orphan, Stephie. If I don't take care of her, who will?"

Yes, Reagan was an orphan.

How did we meet her? It started when she was being picked on, and I stepped in to help. That was when I introduced her to Maverick.

He was only ten when he first saw Reagan, and he instantly had a crush on her.

Over time, they got closer. Maverick's father, Philip Stone, even took her in as his goddaughter.

Eventually, the two of them began dating.

But not everyone was happy about it. Philip eventually spent a lot to send Reagan overseas.

While Maverick was going through a tough time, I stayed by his side.

People said we made a great couple. With their blessings, we got married.

For those seven years, I believed he had moved on from Reagan and loved me instead.

I never imagined that all those years I gave would turn out to be a joke.