Chapter 2

The coffee cup was burning hot in Cathleen's hand, yet she seemed to have lost all sensation, her eyes were glued to the two figures at the entrance.

Jerald, dressed in a dark gray trench coat, stood tall. His usually immaculate tie was half undone, as if he had just been through something.

Beside him was Evelina Lambert, her head slightly tilted as she listened to him speak.

Evelina was the principal cellist of the state orchestra, someone Cathleen had encountered three years ago at the national instrumental competition.

Back then, Evelina had competed alongside her.

As the youngest musician in the event, Cathleen had taken home the gold medal.

Those eyes, once filled with jealousy as they looked at her, appeared again.

Evelina scrutinized her with a critical eye, sizing her up as if she was a mere commodity.

"Jerald, who is this?" Evelina's voice was gentle, affectionately linking her arm with Jerald's.

Cathleen's heart tightened painfully.

She saw Jerald's gaze sweep over herself, eyes that once looked at her with such fondness now seemed so indifferent.

"The daughter of a deceased friend," he said flatly, revealing no emotion, "staying here temporarily."

His words stabbed Cathleen's heart with sharp pain.

She recalled the previous night when he returned home drunk, leaning against the doorframe, alcohol on his breath, his eyes hazy as he gazed at her.

She had felt her soul drawn to him, stepping forward to kiss the corner of his lips, tasting the spicy whiskey.

He hadn't pushed her away, just sighed softly, burying his head in her neck, his breath warm.

So, she was just "the daughter of a deceased friend" for him.

Cathleen's throat ached, rendering her speechless.

Yet, she didn't want to appear so pathetic in front of the person she loved.

"Jerald," she managed to say with difficulty, "I made coffee."

Evelina chimed in, "Ah, I'm sorry to trouble you. Jerald, this girl is quite thoughtful."

As she spoke, she walked past Cathleen, her gaze lingering momentarily on Cathleen's slightly reddened eyes before turning back to Jerald. "Shall we go upstairs? We were just getting started."

Cathleen's breath caught.

She hadn't dared to look at the red mark on Jerald's neck just now.

She was just fooling herself.

Now, with Evelina's blunt comment, Cathleen felt as if all the air had been sucked out of her lung.

Jerald nodded, not sparing Cathleen a glance, and followed Evelina upstairs.

Cathleen stood frozen until the sound of footsteps disappeared at the top of the stairs. Only then did she slowly crouch down, tears falling like a string of pearls, hitting the floor one by one.

From upstairs drifted the soft, breathy moans of Evelina.

Cathleen suddenly remembered her eighteenth birthday when Jerald had presented her with a handcrafted cello.

"Cathleen," he had said, "you will become the world's finest cellist."

But now, he had another woman who played the cello.

Cathleen remained silent. She had only a month left before she had to leave. By then, everything here, including Jerald and Evelina beside him, would have nothing to do with her.

But why, then, did her heart ache so much?

At two in the morning, the intermittent sounds from upstairs continued to fray Cathleen's sensitive nerves.

Curled up in the corner of the sofa, wrapped in a thick blanket, she still felt cold.

Each breath felt like fire in her lungs, and everything before her eyes spun.

She didn't know how she endured those hours.

The sounds from upstairs pierced her ears like needles, causing her insides to ache.

Cathleen struggled to her feet.

She leaned against the wall, painstakingly making her way upstairs.

With each step she took, the sounds grew clearer, and her heart throbbed with pain.

Finally, she stood at Jerald's bedroom door.

It wasn't fully closed, leaving a gap through which the intimate atmosphere was suffocating for her.

Evelina lay on Jerald, kissing him, as his hand clasped the back of her head, responding fervently.

Cathleen took a deep breath, mustering all her strength to knock on the door.

A dissatisfied murmur came from inside, and the door opened.