Chapter 2

I hadn't slept all night.

Sid, on the other hand, looked like a man on top of the world.

"Sweetheart."

I'd just reached the living room when he came out of the kitchen carrying breakfast.

"I made porridge today, and the scallion egg pancakes you like."

He smiled and poured me a glass of soy milk.

"The IPO date's locked in too."

"The advisor said," he steadied me into my chair and sat down across from me, "your birthday timing was perfect, so we set it for next month."

"Once the company goes public," he picked up a fried cruller and set it in my bowl, "things will only get better."

All these years.

Sid had taken over every part of my daily life, down to preparing my three meals himself.

Our friends all joked that he was hopelessly henpecked, tamed and obedient under my thumb.

Sid only wore it with pride.

"Getting to look after my wife is my good fortune."

And now.

The cruller sat right in front of me.

From that place in South End I loved, the porridge simmered soft and thick until my eyes stung. I listened to his voice, watched the habits worn into his bones, and called his name.

"Sid."

"What is it?"

He kept his head down, playing with his phone.

"The third wish."

His fingers froze.

"Have you decided?"

"Half a year ago, I told you to make the third wish," I watched something unnatural flicker across his face, "and you said you had to be careful, that the last wish carried too much meaning, that it had to be for the most important thing."

"Sid," a small hope stirred in me anyway, "why not wish for a sweet little ba—"

"Sweetheart," he cut me off, "we're still young, our careers are still on the line. It's not the right time for a baby."

Sid always put his career first. It was how he put off the wedding I wanted, how he brushed aside the child I truly longed for.

And whenever I ended up disappointed, hurt, aching over it.

He'd buy a ten-million-dollar diamond, rent an LED billboard in Harbor City to cheer me up, willing to spend the time and the money just to win one smile out of me, and then tell me.

"Sweetheart, you'll always be the one love I treasure most. Once we're stable, I'll make up for everything I owe you."

And I believed him.

So when I heard him give the exact same excuse now, the last bit of warmth in my heart went out for good.

"Okay."

I listened to his phone buzzing again and again, insistent.

"Maybe it's something important."

I pointed at the screen still lighting up.

"Go on, take it."

He grabbed the phone in a flustered rush and stepped out to the balcony. I watched him stand there frowning, and only a few seconds later he hung up.

"Something's come up at the company."

He didn't even look at me.

"I'm heading out."

He picked up his car keys and walked to the entryway.

"Sweetheart," as if he'd finally remembered me, he turned back before the door closed, "don't overthink things. I do love you."

"Okay."

The door shut.

I sat at the table and got Grandma's reply, a single short word: 【Fine.】

Then.

I opened the surveillance feed, tapped the balcony camera, and listened to Sid's voice.