Chapter 3

I froze, slowly raising my head to meet his somber gaze.

He pressed down on the two agreement papers, his fingertips applying slight pressure, as if suppressing his emotions.

Fortunately, I hadn't yet signed them; the name fields were still blank.

"This..." My mind raced, quickly coming up with an excuse. "It's Vivienne's. She's a lawyer, you know. These are for her client. She left them here yesterday when she came over."

Hearing this, Emerson's brow relaxed, and he let out a breath.

"You scared me. I thought you were planning to divorce me."

He handed me the papers. "Next time, don't leave things lying around. It really gave me the wrong idea."

I took the agreements, forcing an awkward smile to mask my true feelings. "Yeah, I'll be more careful."

Emerson pulled me into his embrace. "Did I scare you? I'm the fool here. Our relationship is so good, how could we ever get divorced?"

I leaned silently against his chest, not responding, my hand clutching the agreement tightly, my fingertips trembling slightly.

The next day, Emerson, who had promised to take me to the hospital last night, left early in the morning.

He had forgotten.

I wasn't surprised.This isn't the first time. He's always like this. The promises that leave his lips are like mist dispersing in the air, vanishing in an instant.

I walk into the kitCarlisle and brew myself a cup of tea.

Meatball jumps onto the dining table, nuzzling my hand with his head. I raise my hand to pet his head, sighing, "Meatball, mom's going to send you to your godmother's place."

Today, I have two surgeries scheduled. Just as I take off my surgical gown, my phone starts ringing incessantly. The screen displays Emerson's name.

"Hello?" I answer the call.

"Zoran, I'm at the mall. Come over and pick out a gift. Next Monday is your birthday," Emerson's tone sounds cheerful.

Next Monday is also the day I leave.

I can't let him get suspicious, so I can only drag my exhausted body over there.

By the time I arrive at the mall, the sky has completely darkened.

Emerson is standing next to a row of bright red dresses, a gentle smile on his face.

He picks up a dress and walks over, handing it to me. "Take a look at this one, it suits you."

I reach out to touch the dress, the glaring red color making me frown involuntarily:

"I don't like red."According to my previous behavior, I would have certainly acted very happy, but now I don't want to. I actually prefer more subdued and elegant clothing. These vibrant styles are more like Melody's taste.

Emerson paused for a moment, then said with a smile, "Red really suits your personality. Why don't you try it on?"

"No need. I really don't like it," I tried to suppress my displeasure, but my tone already carried a hint of impatience.

He acted as if he hadn't heard me, holding up the dress and insisting on comparing it against my body.

I finally couldn't hold back anymore and raised my voice slightly, "Emerson, I said I don't like it!"

He froze, his hand suspended in mid-air, seemingly shocked by my sudden outburst.

"How do you know you don't like it if you don't try it on?"

Just then, a crisp voice chimed in, "Brother, this dress is indeed very beautiful."

I looked up towards the sound and saw Melody with a sweet smile on her face, affectionately linking arms with Emerson.

The dress she was wearing was identical to the one in his hand.

My heart suddenly sank, as if someone had viciously stabbed me in the chest.

Emerson looked down at Melody, his face wearing its usual gentle expression. "Melody, what brings you here?"I looked at their silhouettes standing side by side, and the emotions bottled up inside me suddenly erupted. I turned and walked away, not wanting to see another glimpse.

"Zoran!" Emerson's voice came from behind me, but my steps didn't falter.

"Bro! Brent doesn't have time to help me pick out a wedding dress. Can you give me some advice?" Melody's coquettish voice reached my ears.

A moment later, I heard Emerson's footsteps stop. He ultimately didn't come after me.

That evening, Emerson came home.

He was back to his tender, affectionate self, holding out a bag to me:

"I'm sorry, baby. I made you unhappy today. I bought these clothes for you, all in the style you like."

Sure enough, the clothes inside were all in muted, elegant tones.

"I didn't mean to not chase after you and comfort you. Melody's getting married soon, and as her brother, I need to pay more attention to her..." He tried to explain, but before he could finish, the phone rang, interrupting him.

He answered the call. It was Melody's voice.

I couldn't make out their conversation, but I could see the tenderness and urgency in his eyes.Emerson hung up the phone and turned to me. "Melody's got something going on. I need to head over there. I'll leave the clothes here. Get some sleep, alright?"

The moment the door closed, I couldn't help but burst out laughing as I looked at the bag of clothes.

Emerson had been playing the role of a devoted lover for so many years without a single slip-up. He truly deserved an Oscar for his performance.

I got up and started tossing the clothes from the bag into the trash can, one by one.