A Lifeless Body, a Tardy Sorrow
He started coming home later and later, with overtime becoming more frequent.
Vincent's mother, Helen, was dissatisfied with this, blaming me for not being able to keep my husband in check or bear children.
The candlelight flickered in the dining room, and just as it was about to burn out, Vincent finally came home.
The sound of the door opening merged with the living room clock striking midnight.
I looked at my husband, who had finally returned home in the dead of night. He looked exhausted, yet his eyes were strangely bright.
Seeing me sitting at the dining table so late, he was startled. "What are you doing up at this hour, trying to spook someone by sitting here like a ghost, Anne?"
He reached out and affectionately ruffled my hair as he spoke.
In the past, his playful tone would have made me happy.
But his current cheerfulness wasn't because of me. It was because of the person who'd kept him out so late.
Kimberly was Vincent's unattainable first love.
Ever since she came back, her name had invaded every corner of my life.
Vincent said Kimberly had no family in the country, and he was just helping out an old classmate, telling me not to overthink it.
Their mutual friends teased them right in front of me, his wife.
And Vincent never stopped them.
I raised my wine glass and gave it a gentle swirl, saying, "Happy third anniversary."
Only then did he notice the room's decorations.
The steaks on the dinner table had gone cold, the candles had burned down to nothing but bare candlesticks, and the dim wall lights tried desperately to cast a warm glow over this sad excuse for a candlelit dinner.
He came forward to hug me apologetically, saying, "I'm sorry, I got caught up with work. Once things settle down, let's go on vacation and make up for our missed honeymoon."
I was still such a pushover. The moment I heard his promise, I instantly forgot my unhappiness.
Our wedding had been rushed, and with him at a crucial point in his career, he went back to work the day after the ceremony, leaving our honeymoon just a dream.
We'd married through an arranged match and barely knew each other, so I didn't have the confidence to bring it up.
"I'd mentioned taking a vacation once before, but he'd been noncommittal, so I never brought it up again."
Now, he was bringing it up himself.
I looked up at him. "Really?"
He lowered his head and gazed straight into my eyes. On the hazy night, I mistook it for a husband's love for his wife.
His voice was deep. "Really."
His distraction made me forget to ask why he came home late on our wedding anniversary.
He took the wine glass from my hand, now barely half full from my nervous swirling, and downed it in one gulp.
Before I could react, he gripped my chin and kissed me.
He passed all the wine from his mouth to mine.
Alcohol could easily cloud one's mind, especially since I'd drunk everything tonight.
Vincent didn't give me time to sober up before sweeping me into his arms, making my head spin.
"The dinner..."
I must have been really drunk to be worried about the messy dining table at a time like this.
He turned around, backlit so I couldn't see his face clearly, and chuckled. "Don't worry, the housekeeper will clean up tomorrow. We have more important things to do now."
The moonlight outside the window danced all night long.
When I woke up in the morning, he was already impeccably dressed, adjusting his tie in the mirror.
Maybe it was the intimacy of the night that made me presumptuous, or perhaps my mind was still foggy from sleep, but I blurted out that he should stop seeing Kimberly.
I instantly sobered up after saying it.
I'd hinted before about my discomfort with his relationship with Kimberly, but he'd always brushed it off as mere jealousy, never taking it seriously.
Kimberly's presence was becoming more and more blatant, flaunting her relationship with Vincent and her determination to have him clear in her eyes.
He didn't understand the wariness of his first love, nor could he read between the lines of female rivalry.
Vincent insisted they were just old classmates with nothing between them, but his face would harden whenever I brought it up.
Not surprisingly, Vincent's body tensed the moment I finished speaking.
"Have you thought about finding a job?" His tone was severe, clearly suggesting I had too much free time on my hands.
The atmosphere froze instantly, making last night's intimacy feel like a dream.
I pressed my lips together, staying silent.
The room fell quiet.
Usually, after a night together, he'd give me a goodbye kiss before leaving, but today, he walked out without looking back.
After hearing the door close, I slowly buried my head in the covers. His side of the bed had already gone cold.
All day, I didn't send him a single message.
Usually, I would've asked what he wanted for lunch and prepared it for him.
But today, I wanted to stand my ground, to show him I could have an attitude, too.
Every time my phone chimed with a notification, I couldn't help but check it.
The housekeeper asked if I was waiting for someone's message.
I fiddled with the anniversary gift Vincent had sent over, growing angrier by the minute.
Wasn't it perfectly normal for me, his wife, to be upset and jealous about another woman hanging around him?
I decided to give him the cold shoulder to show how angry I was about the whole thing.
But my resolution didn't last long before backfiring.
Around 7 PM, Vincent texted me an address asking me to pick him up.
I knew the place. I'd just seen it on one of Vincent's friend's social media posts.
I also knew they were having a reunion with old friends and a belated welcome party for Kimberly.
The moment I got his text, my anger evaporated.
As I drove out, I couldn't help but mentally kick myself for being so easily swayed. Just one text from him and I was already climbing down from my high horse.
On the way there, I couldn't contain my excitement as my mind wandered.
Vincent had never asked me to pick him up from social gatherings before.
He always said that was the driver's job. If I went to get him, what would the driver do?
Now that he suddenly asked me to come, was he deliberately making a statement in front of Kimberly and his friends, warning them not to joke about him and Kimberly?
Lost in my happy thoughts, I didn't notice a car careening out of control behind me.
The impact was massive.
"BANG!"
The car smashed through the guardrail, and after a spinning blur, I slowly sank into darkness...
Vincent was still waiting for me.
After what felt like an eternity, driven by sheer willpower, I finally crawled up from the ravine.
By some stroke of luck, a car passed by.
Only after getting in did I realize the driver was Vincent's assistant, David Miller.
After reaching the mansion where their gathering was held, David went to park the car while I went ahead inside.
I caught sight of Kimberly and Vincent sitting at a small table in the garden, sipping coffee and admiring the moon.
Kimberly asked Vincent, "If your wife wasn't in the picture, would you marry me?"
I froze in my tracks. I wanted to know the answer, too, so I stood still by the garden fence.
I heard his clear, earnest response. "Yes."
At that moment, my first instinct wasn't to confront them but to run away.
I ran straight into David, who was just arriving. Not wanting anyone to see me in such a state, I wondered how to handle the situation when David walked straight ahead as if he couldn't see me.
He walked right through my body!
Shocked, I looked down and finally realized what was wrong...
I had no shadow.
Vincent's clear voice came from behind. "If answering hypothetical questions will help you find peace, I don't mind. But I have Anne now, so there are no what-ifs in my life. It's her now, and it will always be her."
I should be happy that he chose me.
Yet, hearing this made me want to cry.
Just minutes ago, I was hit by a car and died in the crash.
What a shame! If only Vincent had said these words before my death.
Vincent continued, "I won't hold it against you for inviting me here under the pretense of a friendly dinner, but don't let it happen again. We're not in our teens or twenties anymore."
Kimberly's voice was on the verge of tears. "So you still have feelings for me, right? You're only with your wife out of obligation. Why couldn't you wait for me? I was just one step too late..."
David, oblivious to the atmosphere, stepped forward. "Mr. Blackwood."
As Vincent stood to leave, Kimberly desperately lunged at him, knocking over the small table between them with a loud crash.
Kimberly seemed unaware of the commotion, desperately clutching Vincent's arm for an answer. "Isn't that right? If it weren't for Anne, you'd be with me. I should be your wife! What you feel for Anne is obligation, not love! Why are you suppressing yourself, trapping yourself in a loveless marriage?"
She was like a stubborn child, refusing to let go.
My soul stood beside Vincent, listening to their unrequited love story.
After a long silence, Vincent finally pulled his hand away from Kimberly's grasp. "You're drunk."
Then he left with David supporting him.
Only Kimberly remained in the courtyard, staring resentfully at Vincent's retreating figure.
I was about to leave when I saw Kimberly's face twist into a sinister smile as she pulled out a phone and deleted some messages.
That was Vincent's phone!
So she was the one who sent that text asking me to come!
Then...
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