Chapter 12
Alexander looked at Lucille’s trembling eyelashes and suddenly felt exhausted. “I didn’t mean
it that way.”
“What did you mean then?” Lucille was already crying. “Ever since Vanessa left, you’ve been acting like a complete stranger.”
That name hit him like a blade, sharp and merciless. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. He whispered, “Don’t mention her.”
Lucille sobbed. “I’m going to mention her! Are you still thinking about her? What’s so great about her? She was just a pathetic doormat-
“Enough!” Alexander slammed his hands down on the desk, knocking over the takeout box. Sauce splattered across his pants.
Dishes crashed to the floor, and both of them froze.
Lucille reacted first, crying as she ran out of the office.
Alexander stood there, looking at the brown stain on his pants. He suddenly remembered when he accidentally spilled coffee once. Vanessa had immediately gotten down on her knees and cleaned the stain with a spot-removal pen she always carried. She had always been prepared, always.
He grabbed his suit jacket and rushed out of the office.
Mandy called after him, “Mr. Hawke, you have a board meeting at 7:00 pm.”
“Cancel it.” The moment the elevator doors closed, Alexander finally caught his breath.
The city buzzed with traffic through the night.
Alexander drove aimlessly and ended up at the riverbank unconsciously. This was where Vanessa had last appeared, and police tape still clung to the railings from the investigation.
He leaned against his car and lit a cigarette, the flame flickering in the darkness. Lucille kept calling his phone, but he didn’t answer any of them.
He just quietly watched the river flow.
After what felt like hours, his phone finally went quiet. Then, a message popped up.
“Alexander, I’m waiting for you at home. I’m sorry for losing my temper.”
Alexander stared at the message for a long time and suddenly felt completely disconnected.
Which “home” was she referring to?
Chapter 12
Was that the apartment Lucille had personally decorated? The one with her photo shoots framed on every wall, her favorite flowers on the table, and even those matching cartoon slippers by the door.
Everything in there was what she had liked, and none of them was his.
Eventually, Alexander stubbed out the cigarette and started the engine. Yet, he found that he had absolutely no desire to go back.
At 2:00 am, he unlocked the door to a hotel suite. It was his third time staying in a hotel this week. He caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror and saw dark circles under his eyes like
bruises.
As the hot water poured over him, he suddenly remembered how Vanessa used to prepare a fresh set of clothes and toiletries in the office lounge whenever he pulled an all-nighter.
All the little things he had taken for granted now stabbed at him.
Later, his phone lit up on the nightstand again, but he turned it off and let himself fall back on the bed.
Outside, the city lights shimmered as always. But for the first time, he had never felt more
alone.
The next morning, he woke to the sound of someone knocking at the door. He opened it to
find Lucille standing there, her eyes puffy and red.
“I was so worried,” she said as she threw herself into his arms. “Please don’t do that again, okay? I promise, I’ll never bring her up again.”
Alexander stood stiffly, his arms by his sides. The scent of her perfume made his head throb, and that thought shocked him. After all, he used to love that smell.
“I need to head to the office,” he replied, gently pulling away.
“Will you come home for dinner tonight?” she asked quickly. “I’ll have the chef make—”
“I’ve got a dinner meeting. Sorry.” Alexander cut her off, the coldness in his voice surprising even himself.
As the elevator doors closed, he saw Lucille still standing there and crying again. Strangely, he felt nothing this time.
On the way to the office, his car slowed down in front of a small coffee shop. He pulled over without thinking.
The barista behind the counter smiled brightly. “What can I get you, sir?”
“A cup of black coffee with…”
3/3
“One-third milk, no sugar, right?” she said as she moved behind the machine. “Ms. York used to order it just like that.”
Alexander froze. “You knew her?”
“Ms. York? Oh, yeah. She used to come in all the time,” the girl replied as she handed him the
cup.
He took the coffee, and the warmth against his palm matched his memory perfectly. Standing at the shop entrance and watching people rush past on the sidewalk, he suddenly realized a terrifying truth.
Vanessa had woven herself into every corner of this city. The traces she’d left in his life ran far deeper than he’d ever imagined.
And only now did he understand that some habits, once formed, could never be broken.
