Chapter 2

It was already late by the time I finished dealing with the aftermath. I was packing up my clothes backstage. A hotel staff member caught up with me and handed me a thick envelope, saying it was left by a gentleman, along with a plastic bag containing a box of stomach medicine. I casually flipped through it. The envelope said “Happy Anniversary,” stuffed with thick wads of cash, signed only with the name Hughes. I froze for a few seconds, my throat tightening and my stomach suddenly aching as if in response. Before I could think too much about it, Jenny lowered the car window and called for me to get in. “Are you going to find Gabriel?” I closed the car door and shook my head: “Home.” From booking the hotel to everything else, I had been handling it all alone. At this point, I really didn’t have the energy left to go pick a fight. I swallowed a stomach pill and closed my eyes, feeling dizzy and heavy. It was almost ten when I got home. The whole apartment was dark. Clearly, no one had been back. I poured myself a glass of wine, sat by the window, and waited patiently second by second. I had never been this patient before. We moved in here two years ago. At that time, Gabriel had gained some fame with his new album. He often had obsessive fans secretly showing up at our door, so we were forced to move to this high-end neighborhood with better privacy. Clean, orderly, with a cold distance between people. So different from the cozy little nest we once furnished together. It wasn’t just the house we couldn’t go back to.