Meilin didn't sleep that night. Every sound in the house made her flinch — the wind brushing against the window, the steady ticking of the clock, even the gentle rhythm of Rui's breathing beside her. She turned to look at him, but his back was to her, his shoulders tense even in sleep.
It had been a long time since they'd gone to bed as husband and wife. Lately, it felt like they were two strangers pretending to share a life that had already fallen apart.
The faint light of dawn slipped through the curtains. Meilin rose quietly, wrapping herself in a shawl. She went to the bathroom and stared at her reflection. Her eyes looked tired, her skin pale. The woman in the mirror didn't look like her anymore — she looked like a ghost of who Meilin used to be.
When she lifted her hand to touch the glass, a single tear fell, streaking down her cheek like a crack in the mirror's surface.
"Mommy?"
She turned, startled. Xiaoya stood in the doorway, holding her teddy bear.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing up so early?" Meilin knelt down, forcing a smile.
"I heard you crying," Xiaoya said softly.
Meilin swallowed hard and shook her head. "No, baby. Mommy's fine."
But Xiaoya reached out and touched her face. "Then why are your eyes sad?"
The question pierced through Meilin like a blade. For a moment, she couldn't breathe. She pulled her daughter into her arms, hugging her tightly. "It's just grown-up things, my love. You don't have to worry."
Xiaoya nodded, resting her little head against Meilin's shoulder. "Daddy's sad too," she whispered.
Meilin froze. "He is?"
"He doesn't smile anymore," Xiaoya said. "Even when I tell him jokes."
Meilin's heart ached. Her daughter could feel everything — the coldness, the silence, the hidden arguments whispered behind closed doors.
After breakfast, Rui left earlier than usual. He didn't say much, just kissed Xiaoya's forehead and nodded to Meilin before walking out.
When the door closed, Meilin let out a long, shaky breath. The air in the house felt heavier than ever.
Later that afternoon, she went to the market. She needed some air, some distance. As she walked through the crowded stalls, her mind kept drifting — until she heard a voice behind her.
"Still pretending, Meilin?"
Her blood ran cold. She turned, and there he was — Li Chen, leaning casually against a wall, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.
"You shouldn't be here," she hissed, glancing around nervously.
"Why not?" he asked. "We were close once. Or have you forgotten everything already?"
"I have a family now," she said firmly.
He chuckled. "A family built on lies? How long do you think you can hide the truth from him?"
Her pulse quickened. "Leave me alone."
But he stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You owe me, Meilin. And I always collect what's mine."
She clenched her fists, trembling. "You destroyed everything once. You won't do it again."
Li Chen smiled darkly. "We'll see."
He walked away slowly, disappearing into the crowd, leaving her shaken and breathless.
When she returned home, she found Rui standing in the hallway, coat still on. His eyes were unreadable.
"You went to the market?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," she said, trying to sound normal.
"Did you see him again?"
The words hit her like a thunderclap. He knew. Somehow, he already knew.
Meilin opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Rui's expression hardened. "Don't lie to me, Meilin."
Tears welled in her eyes. "I didn't want to drag you into this," she whispered.
"It's too late for that," he said, turning away. "You already have."
He walked into his study and closed the door behind him.
Meilin stood there for a long time, trembling. She could almost hear the sound of glass shattering again — but this time, it wasn't from outside. It was inside her.