Chapter 3

Louis's hand jerked, curling in on itself a few times, then reached toward my tear-streaked face.

"Why are you crying…"

"Let it go, Louis. I don't blame Dorothy."

Fay pulled him aside and murmured into his ear.

"I understand. Dorothy grew up in a single-parent home. She's been starved of love since she was little, low emotional intelligence, no idea how to express herself. She isn't really a bad person."

"She just loves you too much, that's why she keeps treating me like the enemy."

"Maybe don't go on the trip around the world after all? She is your wife, when it comes down to it. You should think more about how she feels."

She gave a soft little sigh and made a show of reaching for her luggage.

"I'll stay at my ex-husband's tonight, then go back to my parents' place tomorrow."

"His girlfriend can't stand me, but she does whatever he says, so she probably won't throw me out."

Louis caught her by the arm and deliberately raised his voice.

"Don't worry about her. Whether she's even my wife is still up in the air."

He shot me a look of disgust as he said it.

"You take a good hard look at yourself. Figure out who has no sense of boundaries, who's the one acting like a child."

"If you think it's fine to disrespect my friends, then there's no reason for us to get married at all."

I tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"Get married? Have you forgotten we already broke up?"

He choked on that, then drew a deep breath.

"You're upset. I won't stoop to arguing with you."

He led Fay off to the bathroom.

Water started running behind the door.

Outside it, he passed in a towel, a change of clothes, her skincare.

Then he hurried to the kitchen, and by the time the water shut off, he already had the ginger tea ready.

Not one of these things had he ever done for me.

The one time I asked him to hand me a towel, he threw it in my face.

"I don't like this careless streak of yours, always losing things and troubling other people. Fix it."

"Dorothy."

Louis came over, brow furrowed.

"Where's the laundry detergent? And underwear, you can't machine-wash it, right, it's better by hand?"

My eyes dropped to the wet bundle of clothes in his arms.

"You're going to wash them for her?"

His expression turned awkward, and he pushed the clothes at me.

"It's not really appropriate for me. How about you do it?"

I pressed down the nausea rising in my stomach and let out a cold laugh.

His face darkened, and he carried the clothes off to the bathroom.

My phone buzzed. A video call from Mom.

On the screen she was beaming, showing off the custom gown she had on.

"Sweetie, look, isn't this gown pretty? Will it be right for your wedding?"

I frowned.

"Mom, I'm not getting—"

"Is it not pretty? Then Mom will have another one made."

My throat closed, and I swallowed the rest of the sentence.

All those years she raised me selling snacks at the night market, grease on her every single day, never once wearing anything this fine.

You could tell from the fabric alone the gown hadn't been cheap. She must have been dreaming of my wedding for a long time.

I choked back a sob and forced a smile.

"It's beautiful, Mom. On the wedding day you'll be the prettiest woman there, right after your daughter!"

Mom's eyes crinkled with laughter as she leaned closer to the screen.

"Is Louis hanging up the laundry?"

She sounded delighted. "I always said it. Once he married you, he'd treasure you, he'd help with the housework for sure."

I looked toward the balcony.

Louis was hanging up Fay's clothes.

Our eyes met. His face went blank as he looked away and walked off to the bedroom.

Something pulled me after him.

Five years together. He had once been the man I wanted to hand the rest of my life to.

Every couple hits rough patches. If I gave a little more ground, if I sat down and talked it through with him calmly.

Would he agree not to go traveling with Fay?

Could the wedding still happen on schedule?

Could Mom still come to my wedding in her new gown?

I pushed open the bedroom door.

"Louis, let's talk this through—"

My throat jammed shut.

Inside the room, Fay was leaning back against the headboard, both arms wrapped around the back of Louis's neck, holding him against her.

And Louis was bending down, close, about to kiss her.