Chapter 3

After packing, I thought of Clara’s hopeful eyes.

So I texted her and asked her to meet me at a coffee shop near the Whitmore estate.

She replied instantly.

Okay!

When she arrived, she smiled and took my hand.

“What’s going on? You even told me not to tell Evan.”

“Are you planning some surprise for me?”

She wore an ivory dress, her hair loosely pinned up.

She looked softer than she had at the launch.

I ordered two coffees and pushed one toward her.

“I wanted to talk to you about Evan.”

“Go ahead.”

I lowered my head and stirred my coffee.

“I’m leaving. I won’t be at your wedding.”

Her mouth fell open.

Her eyes filled with disbelief.

I smiled.

“Before I leave, please don’t tell him.”

After a moment of hesitation, Clara nodded.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll respect it.”

I lifted the cardboard box beside me onto the table.

“These are Evan’s backup medication, communication cards, and meeting records from the past few years.”

On top was a thick black notebook.

Clara opened the first page.

It read:

When he’s anxious, he doesn’t like anyone touching his shoulder. Touch his right fingertips instead.

The next page read:

If he taps the table three times in a row, he isn’t angry. He wants to leave the crowd.

When his stomach hurts, he presses his lips together first, then holds the left side under his ribs.

Clara’s eyes changed.

“You…”

I smiled and interrupted her.

“Don’t overthink it. It was my job.”

Clara seemed to understand.

“Nora, you stayed with him for thirteen years. I’m really grateful.”

I shook my head.

“If it weren’t for you, his aphasia wouldn’t have improved this quickly.”

“He told me before that he didn’t want you to have a boyfriend who couldn’t speak, so he worked hard.”

Clara’s eyes reddened.

“That idiot.”

I set down my cup.

“No matter who stayed by his side for thirteen years, they’d understand him this well.”

“My work ends here.”

Clara looked at me with pity in her eyes.

“Nora, you…”

I stood, placed money for the coffee on the table, and said, “I wish you both happiness.”

When I got back to the Whitmore house, I pulled my suitcase from the closet and packed completely.

Everything Evan had given me, I left behind.

The pendant.

The notebooks.

The crooked sticky note with a cat he had drawn.

I only took my clothes and the old photo album.

Halfway through, Evan suddenly pushed the door open.

He held a file in his hand.

“Can you look over this document for me? I…”

He walked in and saw the open suitcase on the floor.

“Why are all my things on the table?”

“I’m rearranging.”

He didn’t think much of it and handed me the file.

“Look at it tonight. No rush.”

I took it and placed it on the table.

He turned and left.

The second the door closed, I exhaled.

That night, the three of us sat at the same table for dinner.

Clara sat on Evan’s right.

I sat on his left.

Before, he didn’t like eating with anyone else.

It had always been just me.

After Clara came, it became the three of us.

I lowered my head and drank soup.

By accident, my spoon touched the edge of the bowl, making a tiny sound.

Evan suddenly turned to look at me.

His gaze paused for a moment.

“Evan, I want shrimp,” Clara said.

Only then did he look away and serve her food.

Then he instinctively placed shrimp on my plate too.

I couldn’t help reminding him.

“I’m allergic to seafood.”

He looked embarrassed and moved the shrimp back to his own plate.

“Sorry, Nora. I forgot.”

Clara joked to ease the tension.

“Nora, scold him. That’s awful. How can he be so careless?”

I smiled along.

But my heart tasted bitter.

Careless?

When I cooked, he still reminded me Clara couldn’t eat cilantro and told me not to add even a little.

After dinner, I washed dishes in the kitchen.

Evan walked in and stood behind me.

“Tomorrow’s Sunday. Let’s go to that old park.”

“You used to take me there to feed pigeons.”

I shook my head.

“I have plans tomorrow.”

His brows furrowed.

“What plans?”

“I’m meeting someone.”

His fingers fell to his side.

After a long silence, he asked, “Then next week?”

“We’ll see.”

I put down a bowl and turned to him.

“You should spend more time with Clara now.”

His lips parted, but no sound came out.

“Have you two talked about the wedding?”

“Clara grew up in foster care. You need to pay more attention to how she feels right now.”

His throat moved.

“I’ve started preparing. Don’t worry.”

“I even had the house manager order flowers. Blue roses flown in from Ecuador.”

My heart trembled.

Those were my favorite flowers.

But the next second, he said brightly, “Clara mentioned them once, and I remembered.”

“I’m not as unreliable as you think.”

I licked my lips.

I said nothing.

So Clara liked them too.

Clara’s voice sounded from outside.

“Evan, can you come with me to the car? I brought a gift for your mom.”

He paused and looked at me.

I turned back to the sink.

“Go with her.”

He left.

The kitchen door stayed open, and Clara’s laughter floated in from the hallway.

I dried the last bowl, placed it back in the cabinet, and gently closed the door.