Chapter 3

The shouting brought everyone running.

The moment Mom saw the cut on Maisie's face, her expression changed.

"Joyce, how could you raise your hand to her?"

"Maisie's poured herself into treating you every single day. You don't have to be grateful, fine, but hurting her?"

Ramona pulled Maisie against her side.

"I said all along there was something wrong with her head."

"She couldn't hold on to either baby, and now she can't even tell right from wrong."

I looked at Mom.

"You both know exactly what she's done."

Mom's eyes darted away, and she sighed.

"Joyce, you keep burying all that old pain inside. When are you ever going to move past it?"

Sylvester stayed planted in front of Maisie the whole time.

I couldn't make out his face.

I could only hear the anger he was holding down in his voice.

"Apologize to Maisie."

I stood there a long time.

"You want me to apologize to her?"

Sylvester's brows drew together.

"Everything she's done has been for your sake. How can you repay her like this!"

Maisie tugged lightly at his sleeve.

"Sylvester, don't blame her."

"She can't control her emotions right now. She didn't mean to hurt me."

She was speaking forgiveness.

Yet every word reminded the whole room.

I was the crazy one.

I didn't explain again. I turned and went back to the bedroom.

Once the door closed, the voices outside quieted fast.

No one came after me.

After my first miscarriage, I'd locked myself in the bedroom for a whole day too.

Sylvester had sat outside the door and stayed with me the entire time.

I wouldn't eat.

So through the door, he told me about the first time we met.

From daylight into the dead of night.

At the end, he pressed his forehead to the door, his voice gone hoarse.

"Joyce, if you don't want to open the door, don't. I'll stay right here with you."

"It's all right if there's no baby. I just can't lose you too."

That day I opened the door, and I opened my heart along with it.

We held each other and cried, clinging together for a long time.

Back then, I truly believed he would stay with me for the rest of my life.

But this time, I waited in the room from morning until dark.

And I never heard Sylvester's footsteps.

Late in the night, I went to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Passing the study, I heard Maisie's voice inside.

"Sylvester, do you think I went too far today?"

The door wasn't fully shut. Through the gap,

I saw Sylvester sitting there, head bent, dabbing medicine onto the back of Maisie's hand.

"No. She's the sick one."

Maisie bit her lip.

"But your wife seems to hate me. Maybe I should just move out."

"I don't want to be the reason things go wrong between the two of you."

Sylvester capped the medicine bottle for her and said nothing for a long while.

I thought he'd tell Maisie what he always used to say, that no one could ever come between us.

But he only leaned back into the couch, worn out, and said quietly,

"It's not about you."

"There hasn't been anything left between Joyce and me for a long time."

Maisie took his hand, aching for him.

"Sylvester, you're so tired, aren't you?"

Sylvester closed his eyes and said nothing more.

After a long moment, a bitter smile pulled at his mouth.

"There's nothing I can do. I owe her."

Owe.

So all these years, the embraces, the company, the tenderness.

In his heart, all of it was just a debt.

Maisie leaned in a little closer.

"But you can't cage yourself for a lifetime just because you feel guilty."

Sylvester closed his hand around hers and gave a soft laugh.

"Thank god I have you."

"You're the only one I can breathe around."

As that last word fell, the two of them folded into each other.

And I, outside the door, was already crying like the sky had opened.