Fading Love and Lost Dawn

Five years after we got married, in the late autumn, he fell in love with someone else.

Tragically, as the distance between us grew, I bore witness to his new love.

In those final days, I pretended not to see, concealing my emotions.

I neither fought nor competed, for it was time for me to leave...

1

Each word felt like a cry from the heart. "When you were embracing her, did you even once spare a thought for me, waiting foolishly at home? When she was feeding you, did you recall the very moments we once shared? When she stood on tiptoe to kiss you, in that instant of elation, did a single fleeting thought of my lonely form even cross your mind? Michael Martin, have you ever felt a pang of remorse for me?" Tears streamed down uncontrollably, and my heart ached as if rent asunder.

2

A few days earlier.

I struggled to reach for the thermometer in the bedside drawer. Though I knew I had a fever, the sudden coldness under my arm made me shiver.

"My temperature is 38.4 degrees Celsius."

As expected, I had been having recurring fevers lately. Was it a cold due to weakened immunity?

Ignoring the doubts in my heart, I took some fever medicine and fell asleep.

When I awoke, the sun had already set.

My phone vibrated, and Michael's name appeared on the screen.

"Hello?"

A deep, muffled male voice drifted over. I couldn't remember when he'd stopped calling me by name. The realization made me acutely aware of the distance between us.

"I'll be home late tonight, don't wait up for me."

My mind was racing, but I couldn't bring myself to speak.

Whether it was the fever or the tears on the verge of spilling from my eyes, my voice was slightly hoarse.

"Got it."

"Okay." He responded with a simple word and hung up. Our conversations, lasting no more than two minutes, had become the norm.

To be precise, it wasn't communication, but notification.

The late afternoon sun cast its last rays into the room. In this vast space, silence enveloped me, and a sense of loneliness arose.

3

"Eva! Why are you so clueless?"

The boy in the school uniform leaned forward on the desk, his fingers playing with a pencil on the exam paper.

He gently tapped my shoulder, and as I turned to look at him, his face became slightly blurred.

"This question is so simple, can't you solve it?"

I awoke from the dream, rubbing my temples to ease the discomfort. I had lost count of how many times I dreamt of the past.

Michael and I got acquainted in high school. He transferred to our class as an art student in the second semester of the second year of high school.

Back then, I was a good student, introverted, and rarely interacted with anyone in the immediate vicinity, especially boys.

He was assigned to sit at the back of the class.

We were supposed to be two people with no intersection, but a practice test changed that.

After the results were posted, the teacher allowed us to choose our seats based on our scores.

Perhaps it was fate. He performed exceptionally well and chose the seat right behind mine.

Our relationship began to change from that moment.

As memories flashed back to reality, I couldn't help but lament how things had changed.

The once spirited boy had lost his youthful innocence and love for me, leaving only maturity and indifference.

Perhaps this was the price of growth, polished by time.

4

I got up and looked around the living room, finding no trace of him returning home.

Glancing at the clock, it was already past one in the morning.

I didn't know what I was hoping for.

"There would be noise if he came home, Eva, what are you thinking?"

How foolish I was...

After a while, the sound of the electronic lock at the door broke the silence.

Michael opened the door, and in the dim light, he seemed surprised to see me on the sofa.

Before I could speak, he said, "Didn't I tell you not to wait up? Why aren't you asleep?"

I replied softly, "I slept too much during the day, not very tired."

He frowned slightly, showing a hint of disbelief, but said nothing more.

I asked again, "Is the studio busy lately? Why are you coming back so late?"

He changed out of his coat and said, "Yes, it's very busy and might continue for a while, so don't wait up for me."

I replied, "Alright."

After removing his coat, I noticed a faint red mark on the collar of his white shirt.

My instincts told me something was off about him lately.

Despite having anticipated it, I couldn't suppress the mix of unease and disappointment in my heart.

After washing up, he lay on the bed, scrolling through his phone, the screen's light reflecting on his face.

Lying beside him, we remained silent. I wanted to question him, but I felt drained.

Looking at his turned, slender face, I realized the person beside me no longer shared the same heart.

Everything seemed the same, yet everything was different.