My husband, Julian, was the epitome of cool restraint. So my best friend, Summer, gifted me a secret weapon. "Put this on," she'd said, "and tell me you can't conquer him in seconds." After a moment's hesitation, I clutched the sliver of fabric to my chest and, with a blush burning my cheeks, stepped into his study. Julian looked up from his work, and his calm, gray eyes instantly darkened with desire. Ten minutes later, the cold metal of his laptop was digging into the small of my back. I was just about to cry out when my phone buzzed. It was Summer. Her voice on the other end was shredded with sobs. "You promised you'd stay true to me! You couldn't resist even this little temptation? You betrayed me! I'm going to jump from the rooftop right now!" My brow furrowed. Before I could even ask what she meant, Julian reached for the phone, his own voice hoarse. "My phone. Let me handle this." 1 Even without speakerphone, I could hear the raw agony in Summer's cries. Her name had always suited her; she was a vibrant, dazzling force of nature. To hear her so broken felt like a giant hand was squeezing my heart. "Did something happen?" I was frantic. "She's not even dating anyone, what does she mean 'betrayed'?" My mind raced. "Maybe she's in danger and this is some kind of code…" I was shaking, my hands trembling as I tried to get away, to rush to her side. But the intricate lace ties of the outfit were a tangled mess, impossible to undo in my panic. In stark contrast to my hysteria, Julian was unnervingly calm. He pinched the bridge of his nose and, with one arm, lifted me off the desk. "Claire, calm down," he said, his voice a low murmur as he stilled my fumbling hands. "I'll take care of it." Tears streamed down my face. "How can you take care of it? You don't even know Summer!" I shouted. "She called your phone, she must be in serious trouble… No, I'm calling the police…" I reached for my phone, but stopped when I heard Julian speaking into his, his tone soft and gentle. "You're drunk, aren't you? You know you can't handle your liquor. You should have gone straight home. Why are you still out making a scene?" My hand froze mid-air. Julian's expression was impassive, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "I'm married. Having a physical relationship with my wife is perfectly normal. Stop being ridiculous. Are you at the usual spot? Stay put. I'll have your father come get you." The other end of the line went quiet. Without a moment's hesitation, Julian dialed a new number. "Mr. Evans? Summer's on the rooftop of The Cypress Lounge. She's had too much to drink. Could you go pick her up? And maybe get her some of that FANCL hangover remedy on the way… Yes, of course. It’s no trouble at all." I hadn't noticed when the window had been opened, but a cool breeze swept through the room, making me shiver. Silence descended. Julian stood before me, his powerful, muscular torso bare. His eyes reflected my own image—flushed, disheveled, and covered in faint red marks. His Adam's apple bobbed. We both spoke at the exact same time. "Should we… continue?" "What was that all about?" 2 Seeing the coldness in my expression, Julian's desire seemed to evaporate. He reached a long arm around me and snatched his shirt from the messy desk. As he began to button it, he answered my question. "You're asking about Summer? We used to be neighbors." I was stunned. I'd known Summer for a year, and neither of them had ever mentioned this. Especially Julian. Every time I tried to arrange for us all to have dinner together, he'd make an excuse. There was even that one time Summer’s landlord was harassing her, and she came to our place for safety in the middle of the night. Julian had dodged that, too. He'd said he had to work, leaving at one in the morning, still in his pajamas. At the time, I’d wondered what kind of case required him to work through the night. Then, a warmer thought had replaced it: Julian was just a man who valued his boundaries, a man of integrity. Thinking back on it now, I had to ask. "Then why didn't she come to our wedding? You sound so close to her father…" "Can we just not talk about her?" Julian's voice suddenly sharpened into a snarl. The documents he was tidying scattered across the desk again. "She's having a meltdown, do you have to have one too?" My heart sank. He hadn't lost his temper like that in years. The last time was three years ago, when his right leg was still numb and unresponsive… I instinctively took a step back, terrified that he would do what he did back then—smash the nearest glass against the floor. Seeing my cautious retreat, Julian seemed to snap out of his rage. He rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry." He stepped forward and gently pulled me into a hug. "I'm just angry at her, not at you." I swallowed the lump of hurt in my throat and managed a small "Okay." 3 It was as if Summer’s call had never happened. Julian held me as we slept, just like any other night. But long after his breathing had evened out into a steady rhythm, I lay wide awake. My thoughts were a tangled mess, a chaotic storm that refused to let me rest. Just as I was finally drifting off, the man beside me quietly slipped out of bed. He walked into the living room. I heard his low voice speaking into his phone. "Don't cry. I'm on my way." 4 On any other night, I would have sleepily opened the bedroom door and asked, "Where are you going?" Or I would have assumed it was an urgent work matter, gotten up to help him with his coat, and whispered, "Be safe." But I didn't. I held my breath, not making a sound. I watched as Julian, impeccably dressed in a full suit even in the dead of night, walked out the front door. I didn't waste a second. I threw on a coat, booked a ride-share, and was waiting just outside our building as Julian's car pulled out of the underground garage. I told the driver to follow him. Forty minutes later, he pulled up in front of a residential building in the western suburbs. I got out of the car. And I watched, my own eyes seeing it, as before Julian could even knock, the door flew open and Summer, like a brightly colored butterfly, threw herself into his arms. 5 This was obviously Summer's home. The middle-aged man and woman who followed her out were her parents. Which meant her whole story—about being all alone in this city, struggling to make it on her own—was a lie. I suddenly remembered her clinging to my arm, her voice sweet and playful. "Claire, you're the only real friend I have in this whole city! I love you so much! My only regret is that I didn't meet you sooner." For the past year, Summer had called me every single day to share every little detail of her life. We’d walked arm-in-arm shopping for lingerie; we’d huddled under the same blanket, sharing secrets. We clicked instantly, feeling like we’d known each other for a lifetime. But now, it felt like my entire world was crumbling. 6 In the few minutes I stood there, debating whether to confront them, Julian had already come back out. I scrambled to hide around the corner. I saw Summer clinging to his arm, her voice a raw, desperate scream. "Julian, are you insane? Are you really going to spend the rest of your life with that woman?" She was wearing a vibrant, strappy dress, a wide expanse of pale skin on display. She pressed her body against his without any shame. "You don't love her! When you were with me, you were so alive! Not this calm, respectful, celibate man she talks about!" Summer let out a bitter laugh. "Have you forgotten? When you and I were locked in that hotel room for three days and three nights… when you left me so weak I couldn't even get out of bed? I spent a year getting close to her just to find you, and you avoided me at every turn. Julian…" She took his hand and pressed it against her chest. "Feel my heart. Can't you tell how much it hurts? Even when she's wearing that slutty lingerie for you, one call from me, and you drop everything to come to my side. Ask yourself, do you really love her?" Julian didn't pull away. His eyes were dark, his Adam's apple bobbing. His voice was a low murmur. "You need to stay away from now on." He withdrew his hand and took a step back. His tall frame shuddered, but he didn't answer her question. "I can't betray Claire." Then he turned, his movements sharp and final, and got back in his car. 7 I couldn't name the feeling swirling in my gut. Long after Julian's car had disappeared from view, Summer was still screaming. "What you have with her isn't love! You're just paying off a debt! But you don't get it, Julian! If you hadn't told me all those vicious lies, if you hadn't made me break up with you without knowing the truth… I would have been the one to see you through it all! You're a coward! You were afraid your busted leg would be a burden, so you tricked me into leaving the country… Do you have any idea how I survived after we broke up? Come back here! You bastard!" Lights began to flick on in the apartment building. Figures appeared in windows. Summer's parents tried to pull her inside, but she fought them. Then, the sharp crack of a slap echoed in the night air, followed by a man's voice, choked with frustration. "Have you sobered up yet? He's married! For God's sake, have some self-respect!" A few seconds later, the complex fell silent. I pulled my coat tighter around me, found the nearest hotel, and checked in for the night. 8 I lay on the unfamiliar hotel bed, tossing and turning. Five years ago. The unattainable guy I’d crushed on all through college was suddenly sitting across from me, my blind date. Back then, Julian had been in a wheelchair, his gaze downcast, his face a mask of despair. "I have a good feeling about you," he’d said. "But as you can see, because of the car accident, this leg… I don't know if I'll ever walk again. If you're not okay with that, I…" My heart was pounding, but I feigned a calm I didn't feel and cut him off. "I don't mind." He looked up, startled. I quickly added, trying to sound professional, "I mean… I'm a nurse. To me, this is… manageable. Besides, what matters most is the connection between two people." From that day on, I became his partner in the long, grueling process of rehabilitation. The massages and exercises were just physically exhausting. But the real trial was his spirit. Time and again, he would come home, humiliated by the taunts of strangers, and explode in a fit of rage. Once, I tried to comfort him, and he smashed a teacup on the floor, a shard of porcelain slicing my calf… Those three long, agonizing years. Just thinking about them still made it hard to breathe. So now, until I could be sure if what Summer said was true, I couldn't face him. As I racked my brain, trying to come up with an excuse for not coming home, my phone buzzed with a text from him. 【Urgent work trip. Out of town for a couple of days.】 【I'll miss you.】 In the darkness of the hotel room, a laugh escaped my lips. A bitter, hollow laugh at my own naive, foolish heart. 9 I had no idea where Julian went after leaving Summer's house. I tried to force myself to be calm, to go through the motions of my day. I worked diligently, my feet moving quickly through the hospital wards. I thought I could make it through one normal day. But at four in the afternoon, news broke of an earthquake in the southern province. They were calling for medical personnel to volunteer for the emergency response team. When the head nurse was taking names, she skipped right over me. "The situation is severe. They'll need people for at least a month. Claire's definitely not going; we all know her husband, the lawyer, can't live without her. Okay, Li, you're up…" "I'll go," I said, repeating myself when she didn't seem to hear. "Sign me up." Ignoring the stunned looks from my colleagues, I said, "I'm just going home to pack a few things. I'll be back by six for assembly." To my surprise, just as I finished packing a change of clothes in my bedroom, I heard the front door open. It was Julian, home early with a friend.
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