Chapter 2

"Jennifer, you should discuss this with me in person." With these words, he hung up, claiming he was busy.

I don't know when the tears started streaming down my face, but it was probably when he called me "Jennifer."

He had only called me "Jennifer" when I was throwing a fit and he thought I needed soothing.

Maybe he believed I was throwing a petty tantrum, and a little coddling would fix it.

Thinking back, he first called me "Jennifer" when he was drunk.

Afterward, I remember a time when he secretly met with his first love, and I found out. I didn't really want to make a scene; I wanted to break up but couldn't bring myself to do it. So, I suppose, I was being petulant. And he just kept calling me "Jennifer."

I really hated that.

I pulled the blanket over my head and fell into a deep sleep.

I woke up in the afternoon, with a headache, still wanting to sleep more.

But I got up to check my phone for a bit.

As I was about to go back to sleep, Cornell's message popped up.

I didn't want to reply or even read it.

He's my ex-husband; I can't be giving in to him.

So, I buried my head in my pillow and pretended I couldn't hear.

The phone kept ringing.

It was Cornell's call. After five seconds of internal struggle, I answered.

I'm just not resistant to Cornell, as Olive always says, "One thing conquers another." Cornell was probably the one thing that conquered me.

"Jennifer, please stop causing trouble. It's time to come back home."

His voice was just as pleasant as ever, as if he could completely control me.

"I've left with nothing; that's your home now." I thought he must be heartbroken by now, with me saying something so cold - or at least, that's what I wanted to believe.

Cornell's tone remained unchanged. "If you come back now, we can pretend the agreement never happened."

He was being rational, as if negotiating in a business setting. I had always been the one to handle his emotions carefully during our conversations.

"Cornell, how about you tell me a bedtime story tonight?" Cornell had never agreed to it, and I did want a divorce, but I was challenging his limits.

Cornell fell silent for a minute. "Jennifer, come back home early and stop causing trouble."

Oh, after eight years, I know he once told bedtime stories to his first love every day. But with me, I've always only received indifference and rejection - even if I offered to divorce him, he'd still reject me.

It's just a small matter in a relationship.

"I remember you have no plans on Thursday morning. I'll be waiting for you outside the Civil Affairs Bureau at ten tomorrow morning." Cornell never proactively reported his schedule to me. If I didn't ask, he wouldn't tell me. It's not that he couldn't make women feel secure; he just didn't want to make me feel secure.

I was the one who hung up the phone.

I realized I'd never been the one to hang up on him first. It was always him who said it and then mercilessly disconnected the call.

This time, I wanted to be the first to hang up.

After that call, it seemed like I couldn't fall asleep.

I have to admit he still had an impact on my emotions. But I was too exhausted to gather my feelings.

Flashbacks of my past played like a movie in my mind, and I had a feeling I'd be unable to sleep.

An eighteen-year-old girl, naive and full of dreams, entered the university campus. At the freshman welcome event, I saw him for the first time, and that's when our twisted fate began.

From exchanging contact information to learning his interests and hobbies, to creating chance encounters, and then to his confession to his first love.

I felt like I was both a stranger and a participant in this story. I had experienced the joy of secret admiration and the agony of heartbreak all on my own.

I no longer paid attention to him.