The Cost of His Love

When the crash happened, Cedric instinctively threw himself over me, shielding my body with his own. He ended up with multiple fractures. Outside the emergency room, a bystander said with deep emotion, "Instinct never lies. That is true love. Moments like this make me believe in love again." I forced a faint smile, utterly numb inside. We dated for two years and had been married for five. Everyone in our circle said Cedric loved me beyond measure. Yet just yesterday, on my birthday, he skipped my dinner party claiming an urgent board meeting—only for me to catch him in a shopping mall, staring with tender eyes at a cute young girl, leaning down to press a soft kiss against her forehead. I discovered Cedric’s secret in our fifth year of marriage. The birthday dinner was supposed to be held at an estate on Long Island. I held up a pink cocktail dress and walked over to Cedric, asking for his opinion. Cedric was texting someone on his phone, a light smile lingering on his lips. Hearing my voice, he glanced up briefly. "Pink doesn't suit you anymore. Don't wear it." His words froze me in place. A suffocating ache surged straight into my chest. I was seven years older than Cedric. I wasn't young anymore. No matter how many expensive treatments I had, faint fine lines still settled around my eyes, and my body was slowly losing its youthful firmness. I didn't even know when it began, but we had started sleeping in separate rooms. Even when I leaned in for a simple goodnight kiss, Cedric would impatiently turn his head away. He had never been like this before. The Cedric of the past loved me with everything he had. I was the center of his universe. His eyes used to soften every time he looked at me, and he once drove across all of New York in a snowstorm just to bring me fresh, piping-hot pizza from my favorite joint. I dug my nails into my palms. Looking at the cold indifference in his eyes, a sudden, terrifying panic seized me. I parted my dry lips, desperate to ask him. To ask if he had stopped loving me. Before I could get a word out, Cedric stood up, ready to walk out of the bedroom. "An emergency came up at the office. I won't be able to stay for your birthday dinner tonight." I reached out and caught the edge of his sleeve. He ripped his arm away, his voice laced with annoyance. "Can you grow up and stop being so needy?" Three years ago, Cedric would cancel multi-million-dollar meetings just to celebrate with me. Three years later, he shoved my hand away and told me to grow up. I stared blankly at the irritation etched onto his face. After a long pause, he sighed and reached out, patting my head like I was an unruly pet. "Once the meeting wraps up, I'll come home and make it up to you." I watched his retreating back in silence, slowly lowering my gaze. I used to ask him all kinds of silly questions. I used to pull on his sleeve and ask, If I turned into a little caterpillar, would you still love me? What if I turned into a monster? Every single time, Cedric would look at me with infinite tenderness, promising me that no matter what I became, he would love me forever. Back then, I was certain of his love. Now, I didn't even dare to ask if he loved me at all. The birthday party was canceled. I sat alone at the dining table, staring blankly at the cake. At a moment like this, I desperately wanted someone beside me. Yet years ago, when I chose to marry Cedric, I severed ties with my family. My parents refused to see me. After the wedding, Cedric kept me tucked away in his sprawling mansion. I quit my job as a gallery curator to become a full-time housewife. Over time, I drifted apart from my old friends. Now, aside from Cedric, I couldn't find a single person in the world to call. With trembling hands, I placed a candle on the cake, whispering a small prayer in my heart. "I pray for Mom and Dad's health. I pray Nathan finds eternal peace in heaven. And I wish Cedric every success." "Finally... happy birthday to me, Heather." I blew out the candle in a single breath, wiped away my tears, and scooped a mess of frosting into my mouth. It was so cloyingly sweet that it left a bitter aftertaste on my tongue. After we got married, Cedric gave me a black supplementary card, depositing a hefty allowance into it every month. But my pre-marital investments had paid off well, so I had never touched a penny of his money. Today, I decided to take that card and buy myself a designer handbag as a birthday gift from him. Since our chauffeur had the day off, I called an Uber to Fifth Avenue. Just after I paid and stepped out onto the curb, a familiar black Bentley pulled up only a few yards ahead of me.The door opened, and Cedric stepped out, a faint smile playing on his lips. I blinked. Had he lied about the emergency meeting just to sneak out and buy me a surprise gift? Cedric used to pull stunts like this. Once, I had cried my eyes out thinking he couldn't spend the day with me. Then he showed up holding an enormous bouquet of peonies and a gift box, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks, laughing as he said it was all a surprise. I had made him swear through sniffles never to trick me like that again. He had promised me, looking at me with absolute adoration. Was he pulling the same trick now? I wrinkled my nose and made a playful face through the distance. Just as I was about to walk over and tell him I’d caught him red-handed, a fresh-faced young girl threw herself into Cedric's arms. She whined playfully, "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you?" Cedric leaned down, his eyes softening as he whispered something into her ear. The girl blushed crimson and swat lightly at his chest. "Can you be serious for once?" Cedric raised an eyebrow, caught her wrist, and pressed a tender, lingering kiss against her forehead. "I will always stay by your side." They held each other tightly under the golden glow of the sunset, looking like the picture-perfect couple deeply in love. Cedric had said those exact words to me before. When I was twenty-five. Nathan's surgery had failed, and in the dead of night, I wandered aimlessly down the streets of Manhattan like a ghost. Cedric draped his coat over my shoulders, trailing behind me in silence for blocks. Only when I collapsed on the sidewalk, having nowhere left to go, did he pull me into his arms. His voice had been impossibly gentle. "Heather, I will always stay by your side." Cedric was eighteen back then. A boy with burning, relentless passion. When I pushed him away, he kissed me fiercely anyway, muscling his way into my shattered life with stubborn, unyielding force. A light rain began to fall in the evening. When Cedric returned home, I was standing in front of the vanity mirror, scrutinizing every inch of my reflection. Bright eyes, fair skin, rosy lips. Yet time doesn't lie. I knew deep down that I was no longer young. I had lost the radiant glow of my youth; standing there, I felt as still and lifeless as stagnant water. A warm, heavy hand settled onto my waist. Cedric leaned down and pulled me against his chest, sounding surprised. "Why are you crying?" I kept my eyes down, my voice flat. "I poked my eye taking off my makeup." Cedric let out a soft chuckle. He turned me around, scanning my face before brushing his thumb gently over my eyelid. "Still so clumsy, aren't you?" Feeling the heat of his thumb against my skin, looking at him through tear-blurred eyes, I asked calmly, "Do you still love me?" His hand instantly pulled away. Leaning against the doorframe, he looked at me with an unreadable expression. "Why are you asking that?" I grabbed onto his sleeve, staring up at him through my tears. After a long silence, he sighed. He wiped the wet tracks from my cheeks and scooped me up, carrying me out of the bathroom with a faint, mocking smile. "You're a grown woman. Why do you still act like a little girl throwing a tantrum for attention?"Before bed, Cedric gathered my hair and fastened a necklace around my throat. His voice was calm. "Happy birthday, Heather." I clenched my fists under the duvet, keeping my tone perfectly steady. "Your meeting went on for quite a while today. Did everything go smoothly?" Cedric paused for a split second before giving a flat "Yeah." I stared in silence at the man lying beside me. He rolled over, turning his back to me. "It's late. Go to sleep." My eyes remained wide open all night. Only when his breathing turned deep and steady did I sit up stiffly, reach over to the nightstand, pick up his phone, and unlock it. Years ago, Cedric had registered my fingerprint. In the two years we dated and the five years we were married, I trusted him completely. I had never once checked his phone. Perhaps relying on that blind trust, Cedric hadn't bothered hiding a thing. His messages with the young girl were filled with blatant, sickening intimacy. Her name was Chloe, a newly hired intern at his firm. Her contact name was saved as "Sweetie." When she pouted about her long subway commute from Queens, Cedric immediately signed a lease on a luxury high-rise apartment for her right in Midtown. He had spent weekends walking through home-decor stores with Chloe, furnishing the apartment from scratch—pink silk sheets, a bright yellow couch, even matching ceramic plates for the kitchen—slowly building their little love nest. My thumb felt heavier with every swipe down the screen. Right before Cedric came home tonight, Chloe had sent him a selfie. Around her delicate collarbone hung an imperial pink topaz necklace. “I love pink. Only old, dried-up women wear tacky blue tourmaline.” Cedric had replied: “You're right. You’re the freshest of all. You look far more stunning than any pink topaz.” I reached up and gripped the blue tourmaline necklace resting against my chest. A crushing weight settled on my lungs, dragging me down into a dark, suffocating ocean. Tears splashed onto the glass screen. I blinked them away, bit my lip, and kept scrolling. Six months ago, Cedric had taken Chloe to Paris. Hand in hand at a quiet little park midway up Montmartre, they had carved their initials and "I love you" onto a wooden bench. Their last exchange had been right before we went to bed. Chloe was throwing an angry tantrum. “When are you finally going to divorce that old woman? I hate sharing you. The thought of you touching her the way you touch me makes me sick.” Cedric's reply was simple: “I'll handle it soon.” Chloe sent a sad puppy emoji, and Cedric replied with a little puppy knight. Looking at that playful sticker, an overwhelming wave of misery hit me. Since when did the cold, reserved Cedric Vance use cute cartoon stickers? Cedric had also sent her a thirty-three-second voice note. I tapped the screen to convert it to text. “Sweetie, don't be upset. I love you, and I belong to you. We have the rest of our lives ahead of us. Don't worry about the obstacles right now. I'll overcome everything to be with you.”