I blew out the candles. The sweetness of the cake and the salt of my tears went down together.
Starting today, my own feelings came first. Always.
A birthday, and a clean beginning.
The next morning, I woke up and saw that Morris's blog had been updated in the early hours for the first time in four years.
After all these years, you're still the only one who makes my heart race.
The photo was Cassandra, eyes closed, resting peacefully.
She was draped in the blanket I'd left in Morris's car. The IV line was cradled in his palm, warming it for her.
The girl slept so serenely, the man beside her so attentive, so tender. They really did look like a perfect match.
If only that man weren't my husband.
I swallowed the sting rising in my chest and took a cab to apply for my visa and residency permit.
This overseas assignment would keep me away for a long time. I probably wouldn't be coming back anytime soon.
Before I left the country, I would take care of every last piece of paperwork, including divorcing Morris.
In the cab, I got a text from him.
I'll be going abroad for a week soon. Exchanging research notes with a lab overseas.
I glanced at it and didn't reply.