Chapter 3

The next morning, I woke up in the guest room.

After freezing outside all night, my throat was raw and painful.

I got up early, habitually walking to the kitchen to make Chris's favorite pancakes.

As I passed the hallway on the second floor, I noticed the master bedroom door was ajar.

Chris and Grace were sitting side-by-side on the wool rug by the balcony.

Grace was clutching her head, her body trembling uncontrollably.

Chris had his arm wrapped around her, gently rubbing her back.

I stood there, silent.

I quietly went back to the guest room and pulled out a card I had written on the bus last night.

Happy 1000 Days, Dr. Blair! I’m finally here to be with you.

The handwriting was bursting with the excitement I felt at the time. But now, I tore it into pieces and threw it into the trash can.

At breakfast, Chris brought two plates out from the kitchen.

With my throat burning, I instinctively reached for the plate with the light, clear chicken noodle soup.

But Chris gently pressed his hand over mine, his eyes soft but firm.

"Chloe, I made that specifically for Grace."

"Her stomach is really sensitive from her antidepressant medication. She can't handle anything greasy."

He pushed the other plate, loaded with greasy bacon, toward me.

"You used to love bacon. I went out of my way to order this delivery for you."

I stared at the plate of bacon dripping with oil.

Just swallowing my own saliva felt like swallowing razor blades.

My voice came out raspy and broken.

"My stomach hurts too. I can't eat greasy food today."

The moment those words left my mouth, Grace’s eyes welled up with tears.

The fork slipped from her hand, clattering onto the table, and she began to shake.

"I'm sorry..."

"It’s all my fault. I’m even fighting you for a bowl of soup."

"I’m so useless. I should just die..."

She covered her face and sobbed.

Chris immediately rushed to her side, pulling her into his chest to comfort her.

Once Grace’s breathing finally calmed down, Chris turned to look at me, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Chloe, you've always loved greasy food."

"She has lost everything. She’s literally fighting for her life every day."

"You have a stable, great job, and you have my undivided love."

"Why do you have to pick a fight with a sick person over a simple bowl of soup?"

With the gentlest tone, he ripped open my deepest wound.

He had no idea that I didn't have a stable job anymore.

By noon, I developed a low-grade fever, and my throat was so swollen I could barely speak.

Chris’s private dental clinic was located in the commercial district just outside our neighborhood.

I decided to walk over to get some anti-inflammatory medicine from him.

When I reached the clinic, I looked through the glass storefront. Chris was lying on the recliner next to the dental chair.

He was holding Grace’s hand while the nurse administered a calming therapy session for her.

Two receptionists at the front desk were whispering to each other.

"Dr. Blair is so sweet to her."

"He canceled all of his afternoon appointments just to stay with her during therapy."

I stood in the drizzling rain, took a two-hour bus ride, and went to the run-down North End of the city—a place filled with sketchy, cheap apartments.

I walked into a dingy little pharmacy, bought the cheapest fever reducers, and swallowed them with a bottle of water while standing in the cold wind.

As the medicine started to kick in, I searched through the narrow alleys for an apartment, repeatedly checking the balance in my bank account.

To be with Chris, I hadn't just quit my job; I had spent almost all of my savings paying off the school's contract termination penalty.

Finally, I stopped in front of a dim, semi-basement apartment.

The walls were peeling, and the place smelled heavily of mold.

I told myself that this was where I would plant my new roots in a city that didn't belong to me.

I sat on a plastic chair in the rental office and signed the lease for the semi-basement.

When I looked up, I saw a job posting tacked on the bulletin board.

At that exact moment, the phone in my pocket vibrated.

It was a voice note from Chris.

"Chloe, I'm taking you out for French food tonight to celebrate our 1000 days."