Chapter 3

I kept working without pausing, my tone flat. "We've got way too much stuff. Some of it has to go. We can't hold on to everything, right?" Ethan frowned, as if he could tell there was a deeper meaning behind my words. But he didn't move. He didn't even reach into the trash to retrieve any of the things I'd thrown away. I nodded toward the cardboard box tucked away in the corner, the one filled with all of Claire's belongings. Old photos of the two of them, the fountain pen she'd given him, the handwritten letters she'd sent him... Everything was in there. "You want to throw those away too?" He panicked instantly. He hurried across the room, snatched up the box, and hugged it tightly against his chest as if it were treasure. "You can't throw these away!" He must have realized how over-the-top his reaction had been, because he quickly forced an awkward half-smile. "These are Claire's things. I'll return them to her when I get the chance." When he finished speaking, he looked at me hopefully, as if waiting for me to ask where exactly he planned to go to return them. But I didn't. I merely gave a noncommittal, "Oh." After a while, he started shifting restlessly in his seat. Then he carefully tested the waters. "Lydia, did you see the final list for the overseas postings?" "I saw it." "Oh... So you turned in your application materials?" "I did." He let out a huge sigh of relief and grinned. "That works, then." I didn't say anything else. I simply tossed more clutter into the trash. We started getting our apartment and car in Westoria ready for the move. Ethan posted a whole bunch of photos of apartments in Bellmere on his social media. Tons of our friends commented underneath. A: [Whoa, you already picked a place? We'll come visit you guys once you're settled!] I didn't like the post or leave a comment. We'd lived in this apartment for 5 years. Every corner was filled with memories. There was a map of the country taped to the living room wall, one we'd put up together on the day we first moved in. Back then, he'd wrapped an arm around my waist and said, "When we go back home, we'll take on projects in these cities." He'd stuck red pushpins all over the map, marking one spot after another. "These are all up-and-coming design hubs. We'll hit every single one of them, one by one." Now, the map was still on the wall. The pushpins were still stuck exactly where he'd left them. Only the man who'd said those words had long since forgotten he'd ever said them. "Lydia, what do you think of this place? It's right by the bay. You can see the ocean straight from the balcony." He looked over at me, still treading carefully. I gave a quiet hum. "City-view apartments back home are probably just as nice, if not better." He froze for a moment, confusion creeping across his face. "Lydia, you don't like Bellmere?" "I like it fine." The tension immediately drained from his face. I added, "It'd be a great place to spend a few days on vacation, honestly." He froze again, stunned. He was just about to say something when his phone started buzzing. It was a video call from Claire. "Ethan, my stomach hurts so bad. I can't even move..." Her voice was thick with sobs, her face drawn tight with obvious distress. "What happened?" Ethan shot to his feet quickly. His voice was tight with panic. "It's that stomach problem again. It's probably acting up because I've been so stressed lately... I'm all alone here. I'm scared. I don't know anyone in this city..." Claire broke down harder, tears streaming down her face. "Stay right where you are. I'll book a flight right now." Ethan was already in a panic. He turned to look at me. "Lydia, Claire's stomach is acting up. I have to go check on her." His eyes burned with urgency, but there was a hint of hesitation beneath it. He was gambling. Gambling that I'd throw a fit. But I simply nodded, completely calm. "Okay." He clearly hadn't expected me to agree so easily. A flicker of surprise crossed his face. "Then... can you keep an eye on the rest of the posting paperwork for me?" "Sure." Something shifted in his expression, a faint trace of guilt creeping into his eyes. "Lydia, you're the best." He stepped closer and reached for my hand. "This actually works out great. I'll head over first and get everything settled, so you won't have to scramble when you get there." It was obvious he'd just cobbled together the most plausible excuse he could think of to justify leaving. "Once you're done with everything here, I'll be at the airport to pick you up." I pulled my hand away, my voice still calm and steady. "Go handle your business." With that, I turned back to packing up the things around me. His hand remained suspended in midair for a moment, as if he was too stunned to process what had just happened.