1 On the eve of our fourth anniversary trip, Jonah was in the bathroom taking a shower. His phone screen suddenly lit up on the nightstand. The message was brief: [Dr. Beckett, my sister just got her divorce finalized. She is alone in the psychiatric ward and she is in a really bad place. Please, you have to come see her.] The sender’s number belonged to Toby, the younger brother of Aria, the girl Jonah had once loved with a fierce, self-destructive passion. She was the ghost that had haunted our relationship from day one. The hum of the shower died down. When Jonah walked out, towel drying his hair, I handed him the phone. I turned my back, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Within seconds, Jonah wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin gently on the crown of my head. “Don’t worry, I’m not going,” he murmured. “I promised I’d take you on this trip, and I’m keeping that promise.” Just as my racing heart began to settle, another message flashed on the screen: [She has been sobbing for hours. She keeps repeating one thing over and over: Jonah, I regret it.] The arms wrapped around my waist stiffened. It was funny how the future we had spent four years building could be derailed so easily. The past only had to wave its hand, and he was already turning back. “Jonah,” I said softly. He did not hear me the first time. Only when I called his name again did he seem to snap out of his trance, his eyes instantly clouding with guilt. “Sorry, Nell. Things at the hospital have been so hectic lately, I keep zoning out.” He reached out to pull me into his chest, just like he always did, but I stood frozen. Noticing my stiffness, his voice grew tense. “Are you feeling okay? Are you sick?” I looked into his eyes, keeping my voice quiet and even. “If you want to go to the hospital to see her, we can reschedule our trip.” “I am not going,” he replied instantly. He even managed a small laugh, reaching out to gently tap the tip of my nose. “Silly girl, stop overthinking. I’m a doctor, not her private caretaker.” He said it lightly, but I knew Jonah. He was never a man to hesitate or lose focus. He was always decisive, except during his college years when he was dating Aria. Back then, he used to wear that exact same vacant, distracted look. I knew that look because I used to look up at Jonah the exact same way he looked up at Aria. We hit a quiet stalemate that night. Jonah apologized repeatedly, trying to soothe the unspoken tension between us. “Nell, I admit I got distracted, but you’re the only one in my heart now,” he said, cupping my face in his hands, his eyes searching mine. “I don’t love her. I haven’t loved her for a long time.” His gaze was so earnest that I almost believed him. Almost. But Jonah had once been so reckless for Aria. Even though I had been with him for four years, her shadow still loomed over us, cold and insurmountable. Late into the night, he finally managed to soothe me to sleep. Through the haze of slumber, I felt him slip out of bed. A moment later, the muffled sound of a tense conversation drifted in from the balcony. His voice was cold and sharp. “I am a doctor, yes, but I am not the only psychiatrist at that hospital.” He sounded nearly impatient. “The nurses can handle her. Stop calling my personal number. My girlfriend is going to misunderstand.” The weight in my chest finally lifted. Beneath the covers, I let out a quiet breath, smiling at my own insecurity. Soon, the bed dipped as he climbed back in. He pulled me flush against his chest, his warm breath tickling my ear. “I love you, Nell,” he whispered. I woke up early the next morning. Jonah had to finish a morning shift before his vacation officially started, so I packed our bags and headed to the airport ahead of him. Looking at our detailed travel itinerary, I could already picture the snow falling on our shoulders in Aspen. I waited at the gate until noon, when a text from him finally arrived: [Sweetheart, hang tight. Just wrapping up my last patient and then I’ll head straight to the airport.] I texted back a quick confirmation with a heart emoji. At the time, I had no idea that the last patient he referred to was Aria. The hours ticked away. The departure boards in the terminal flickered, updating constantly. All the daytime flights to our destination had already departed, leaving only the final red-eye of the night. If we missed this one, the winter storm forecast for tomorrow would ground all flights, and our fourth-anniversary trip would be completely ruined. Jonah still had not arrived. I called him multiple times, but my calls went straight to voicemail. A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. My first instinct, ridiculously enough, was to worry that he had been in a car crash on his way to the airport. 2 Finally, my phone buzzed. I answered it immediately. “Jonah? Are you okay?” “Hello? Who is this?” a soft, delicate female voice answered. My throat went dry. It was Aria. “If you’re looking for Dr. Beckett, you’ll have to wait a moment,” she said calmly, her tone completely devoid of malice. “He went to get me some of his homemade potato soup.” The blood in my veins turned to ice. Potato soup. Jonah had spent nearly an hour in the kitchen this morning, slow-cooking it and leaving it in a thermos for me. He had once told me: “I only learned how to cook because of you, Nell. I only want to make these things for you.” I had always believed that this soup, this small gesture, was the one thing that set me apart from Aria. The line went quiet for a few seconds before Jonah’s voice came through. “Hey, Nell. I’m so sorry. Something urgent came up at the hospital today. It looks like we’ll have to push the trip back.” He apologized over and over, but he never mentioned Aria’s name. If she was just a patient, why the lie? What did his promise last night even mean? “I’m coming to the hospital,” I said, my voice eerily calm. There was a brief pause on the other end. “…Okay.” The sterile scent of disinfectant hung heavy in the hospital corridor. I stood outside the door of ward three. Through the small glass window, I saw Jonah sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a warm bowl. He carefully blew on a spoonful of soup before feeding it to Aria. Her movements were a bit sluggish, but she complied, swallowing quietly. Then, she picked up a half-eaten apple from the bedside table and offered it to him. Jonah smiled, leaned down, and took a bite right from the spot she had bitten. My breath caught. Jonah had mild germophobia. He was a man who politely declined when I tried to feed him with my own fork, yet here he was, sharing a half-eaten apple with another woman without a second thought. A dull, throbbing pain bloomed in my chest. There was nothing special about me. The rules he broke for her were the rules he rigidly kept with me. It was never about the action; it was always about the person. When I pushed the door open, Jonah froze. He hastily set the bowl and the apple down on the table. Aria did not look at me. Like a tired bird, she tilted her head and naturally rested her cheek against Jonah’s chest. He did not pull away. Jonah stood there and let her lean on him. I stood in the doorway, watching them. I felt like an intruder who had walked into someone else’s movie, making even my breathing feel like an inconvenience. “Nell,” Jonah said, finally standing up. Aria swayed slightly, losing her support. His face was a mask of guilt. “You can see how she is. The trauma affected her mind, she is acting like a child right now. Please don’t take it to heart, okay?” How could I not? My lips curved into a bitter smile, but the only word that escaped me was a hollow, “Okay.” Just as I was trying to force myself to accept his explanation, Aria looked up. Her eyes were vacant, but her voice was as soft as a feather. “Jonah, I like you so much.” Jonah went rigid, his expression turning incredibly complex. “Hold me, please?” She reached out her arms, her eyes wide and innocent, like a child who knew no boundaries. But this time, Jonah pushed her hand away. He quickly walked over to me, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me out into the corridor. “She is sick, Nell. She doesn’t know what she’s saying,” he said, closing the door behind us to shut her out. He repeated the same empty phrase: “Don’t take it to heart.” Seeing my silence, he let out a heavy sigh and cupped my face with both hands, forcing me to look into his exhausted eyes. “She is in a terrible state, Nell. Her ex-husband abused her for years, and she finally snapped when she caught him cheating,” he explained, his voice thick with emotion. “I had no intention of seeing her this morning, I swear. I remembered my promise to you. But her ex-husband showed up at the clinic, trying to drag her away. She was huddled in a corner, screaming my name. With all my colleagues watching, I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. Just this once, Nell, please understand.” The desperation in his voice felt so real. It seemed as though he was just a good man carrying a burden he could not shake. 3 For a second, I almost relented. But then the image of him biting that apple flashed in my mind, the ease with which he threw away his principles for her. “Jonah,” I said, my voice dry. “The last flight is at nine tonight. Our trip.” He smiled, ruffling my hair the way he always did, momentarily dispelling the gloom. “We don’t have to wait until nine. Let’s go now.” “Dr. Beckett, the test results for bed three are in,” a nurse called out from down the hall. Bed three. Aria. “I’ll look at them right away,” Jonah replied instantly. The smile had barely left his face, but his body was already turning toward the nurse. My agreement died in my throat, shattering silently. And so, I ended up waiting at the hospital while he ran tests for her. By the time I checked my watch, it was six in the evening. If we did not leave for the airport now, we would miss the flight. “It’s six o’clock,” I said, standing by his desk, my voice quiet. Jonah was buried in paperwork, his brow furrowed as he reviewed Aria’s thick medical file. “Almost done. Just give me a few more minutes.” He did not even look up. Looking at the towering stack of files, I knew that “almost done” was a lie. My patience finally wore thin. “Aria is asleep now, Jonah. She isn’t going to wake up and demand you stay. Can’t another doctor on duty look at these files?” “No, they can’t,” he snapped, his pen never pausing. “Why not?” The question hung in the silence of the office. “Nell, can you please be quiet for a second? You’re distracting me, and I can’t get this done if you keep talking,” Jonah said, his forehead creasing with irritation. A wave of hurt washed over me. It was our anniversary trip, yet somehow I was the one being unreasonable. Perhaps seeing the tears welling in my eyes, Jonah softened. He sighed, walked around the desk, and took my hand. “I’m sorry. I’m just incredibly tired today, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” His grip was warm and familiar. “But Aria’s case is highly complex, and the board is monitoring it. Because of our history, I know her psychological triggers better than anyone else. But I promise you, I will make this up to you.” With that, he shut the file, handed it over to the resident on duty, and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. His lips curved into a smile. “Come on, let’s go catch that flight.” “Dr. Beckett! The patient in bed three says—” another nurse ran up to us. “I’m off the clock,” Jonah interrupted her, his voice firm and clear. “Dr. Vance is taking over her case. I am taking my fiancée on vacation.” He pulled me by the hand, leading me past his colleagues and out of the hospital doors. The cold wind whipped against my face, but my cheeks felt hot. I asked myself if I was being too petty. She was just an old acquaintance who needed help, right? Only a month ago, Jonah had knelt on one knee and asked me to marry him. We were going to spend the rest of our lives together. The past belonged in the past. I forced myself to believe it as we boarded the flight to Aspen. During the flight, he adjusted my blanket and reclined my seat, talking and laughing just as he always did. But when he looked out the window at the heavy clouds, I saw the emptiness in his eyes. We landed, checked into our hotel, and everything went according to plan. The next day was filled with ice sculptures, skiing, and hot springs. The hospital drama felt like a minor bump in the road. Until that night, while Jonah was in the shower. His phone lit up on the nightstand with a stream of messages: [Dr. Beckett, Aria is doing a bit better, but she refuses to take her medication. She keeps crying and asking for you. Please, just call her.] [She just called me, Jonah. Don’t you want to know how much she has missed you all these years?] The sender was Toby. The timestamp was five minutes ago. I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the delete button for a long time. In the end, I put the phone back down. I was gambling. I was gambling our four years of history against his lingering feelings, hoping the scale would finally tip in my favor. 4 Jonah stepped out of the bathroom, water dripping from the ends of his hair. He picked up his phone, glanced at the notifications with a neutral face, and tossed it onto the sofa. He sat down, scrolling through social media and occasionally letting out a soft laugh. But that night, he was desperate. He kissed me with a frantic intensity, as if trying to leave his mark on every inch of my skin. Then, in the heat of the moment, a soft murmur escaped his lips: “Aria.” The name shattered the room. I froze, my body turning cold. In the darkness, the only sound was our heavy, ragged breathing. Jonah froze too. A second later, he scrambled to pull me back into his arms. “Nell! I’m so sorry! I…” He held me from behind, his hands trembling as he covered my clenched fists. “I zoned out, I swear! I was just thinking about the neurological patterns of her case! It’s a highly unusual medical phenomenon, and the hospital is putting a lot of pressure on me. I would never do anything to hurt you.” “Enough,” I whispered, my voice cracked and dry. I did not want to hear another word. Four years. More than a thousand days and nights, wiped out by the return of an old flame. Did he know that a tiny life was currently growing inside me? A secret that belonged to the two of us? The words rushed to the back of my throat, but I swallowed them down, bitter and cold. “Jonah,” I said, staring into the dark room. “I am so incredibly disappointed in you.” He fell silent. After a long pause, his voice returned, low and steady, but each word cut like glass. “I told you, I am only taking care of her because of my duty as a doctor. I didn’t have a choice in the beginning, but I left everything behind to come here with you. What more do you want from me, Nell?” Jonah had always been a gentle man. Even during our worst arguments, he had never spoken to me with such cold impatience. But ever since Aria got divorced and came back, everything had changed. Beside me, he turned over, his back to me. Though we were inches apart, he felt miles away. I closed my eyes, praying for sleep, but my tears soaked the pillow. Meanwhile, his breathing soon became deep and even. He had actually fallen asleep. When I woke up the next morning, the space beside me was empty and cold. His suitcase was gone. His shaving cream, his toothbrush, everything was missing from the bathroom. It was as if a sudden gust of wind had swept through the room, erasing every trace of his existence. He had left. Between me and Aria, he had made his choice without leaving so much as a note. Outside the window, the snow we had planned to watch together was still falling, beautiful and silent. But the man who had promised to watch it with me was gone. I calmly unlocked my phone and booked an appointment at an OB-GYN clinic back home. I packed my bags alone, navigated the crowded airport alone, and boarded the flight back to Boston alone. The day of my appointment, some morbid curiosity drew me to the psychiatric wing of the hospital first. The door to ward three was slightly ajar. Aria’s laughter drifted out, completely different from her usual fragile, childish demeanor. “Don’t worry, I’m doing great here. Jonah is taking perfect care of me.” “Of course he still cares. I knew he could never truly forget me.” “Even when I pretended to mistake him for my ex-husband and held onto him, he didn’t push me away.” It was all an act. Anger flared in my chest, burning away my remaining sanity. I thought of Jonah, a man who prided himself on his clinical objectivity, being played like a fool. Before I realized what I was doing, I pushed the door open, my voice trembling with rage. “You are still lying to him, Aria. Have you forgotten how badly you destroyed him the first time?” Aria gasped, staring at me in shock. Then, in the blink of an eye, tears welled in her eyes, and she shrunk back, looking fragile and defenseless. “What are you talking about?” She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling as she looked past my shoulder. “Jonah, I’m scared.” Jonah rushed into the room, his face tight with tension. “What’s going on here?” “I’m sorry,” Aria sobbed, beating me to the punch. “I shouldn’t keep troubling you. Nell must have misunderstood. But Jonah, you know I can’t handle people raising their voices at me. My condition…” She whimpered, timed to perfection. Jonah immediately stepped between us, shielding her with his body. He glared at me, his voice cold as ice. “I am the one who insisted on overseeing her treatment, Nell. If you have a problem, take it out on me. Her condition is finally stabilizing, and she cannot handle any emotional distress. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?” He rubbed his temples, looking thoroughly exhausted. “I know you’re angry that I left the hotel without telling you. Just go wait in my office, and I’ll handle this.” He actually thought I had traveled all this way just to pick a fight over him. An explanation? What was left to explain? I bit my lower lip so hard the taste of blood filled my mouth. I turned and walked straight toward the elevator, pressing the button for the OB-GYN wing.
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