Chapter 3

After dinner, Julian was stone-drunk.

Relatives and friends, uneasy about them driving home like that, asked them to stay the night.

I called a maid to help him back to the room.

After washing up, I turned off the bedroom light, leaving only the bedside lamp on.

A little while later, Julian groggily opened his eyes and reached out to pull me into his arms. "Camila, you came back for me, didn't you?"

I froze, not telling him he had mistaken me for someone else.

It took me a long time to compose myself before I asked, "And you? Who did you get drunk for tonight?"

"It's you, Camila, it will only ever be you. Don't you understand?"

Though I had long anticipated the outcome, hearing it directly, my heart still throbbed with pain.

Only then did I understand why the man who would drink to drown his sorrows for love had always appeared sober in front of me.

Was he afraid that if he got drunk, he would reveal his true feelings like this, afraid I would find out?

I clenched my hands tightly, struggling to breathe, and could only break free from his embrace.

I sat in the bathroom for two hours before I calmed down.

When I came out again, Julian was no longer in bed.

I pulled open the bedroom door and saw the motion-sensor light on the balcony had gone out.

I tiptoed over and, through the window, saw Julian and Camila standing outside.

The night concealed the expression on his face, but I could clearly hear his suppressed voice.

"Didn't you tell me yesterday you weren't going back to Europe? Why did you change your mind today?"

"And you? Why did you marry Chloe without telling me?"

Hearing Camila's calm tone, Julian felt the fire in his heart burn even fiercer.

His remaining rationality instantly collapsed. He forcefully gripped Camila's hand:

"Why I married her, shouldn't you know best? She looks so much like you, and she's your blood relative! Only by being with her can I openly see you! And not have to fly to Paris and wait downstairs for dozens of hours, just to sneak a glimpse of you, like a few days ago!"

So, he went to Paris for Camila. That's why he didn't answer a single call.

My heart jolted violently, my fingers digging deep into my palms.

Camila hadn't expected him to really be thinking that way. She murmured, "You're crazy!"

"I *am* crazy! I've been crazy ever since the day you insisted on breaking up with me, don't you know that?! I want you by my side, even if it's just a substitute who resembles you. That's enough for me to cherish for the rest of my life!"

His tone, filled with unvented pain, left Camila stunned.

After a long silence, she squeezed out a single sentence, equally pained, "Julian, what do you take Chloe for by doing this? You've been married for three years, and she's even carrying your child. Don't you feel anything for her at all?"

Julian laughed. "Camila, she's just a substitute. How do you expect me to feel anything? Even if I did, I'd just be looking at her face, which reminds me of yours, and all I'd be thinking about is you!"

"Chloe and I will have our baby soon. I've even thought of a name: Julianna, combining your name and mine. We'll be together forever!"

Hearing all of this, a chill ran down my spine, and I could no longer hold back my tears.

Julianna.

What a "Julianna."

I closed my eyes, recalling his insatiable desire in bed after we married, and his nervous attitude after I became pregnant. I bit my lip hard, suppressing the desperate cries of pain.

My last ounce of strength drained away. Leaning on the wall, I dragged my shaky steps and turned to leave.

The sounds of their argument gradually faded. Just before the bedroom door closed, I heard Camila say, "Aren't you afraid Chloe will find out the truth?"

Julian said, "She'll never know. Even if she did, she loves me so much, she would never leave!"

Never?

I touched my flat abdomen, a bitter smile touching my lips.

I would.

I would smash the cage he built with my own hands and fly to the open skies of freedom.

Never looking back.

Julian didn't return that night.

At dawn, I got up.

I didn't disturb anyone. I went home alone, took my documents, and processed my immigration papers.

As soon as I finished, I received a call from Camila.

"Chloe, can you come with me to the cemetery today? I want to pay my respects to your father and also visit your mother's grave."

My mother had passed away very early, so I had less contact with my maternal grandmother's side of the family.

Although Camila and I were only five years apart, we weren't really close.

But since Camila was going to pay respects to my parents, I could only agree.

I bought a bouquet of flowers and, as I reached the cemetery gate, saw a sports car parked not far away.

It was Julian.

He saw me too and immediately got out of the car, walking over to my side. "Why didn't you let me come with you to the cemetery?"