Chapter 20
When Timothy returned home, the entire house lay in utter silence, empty and still.
A chilly air mingled with the faint trace of Shirley’s perfume lingered in the rooms.
The house felt hollow without Shirley.
From the bedroom to the study and even the bathroom, every space had been arranged by her hands.
Back then, she’d asked him to help pick furniture, but he’d claimed to be too busy. When he returned home, the rooms were already perfectly furnished.
Shirley knew every inch of those spaces, every item in every corner. Now, everything remained exactly as she’d placed it, yet the person who created it all was gone.
He’d searched once already, but Timothy couldn’t shake the feeling she might have left something behind.
Trembling uncontrollably, he began tearing through the house again. Inside closets, behind desks, even in the cracks of doors–he left no spot unchecked.
The entire house was in disarray, yet there was no trace of her.
Finally, he pinned his hopes on the messy bed.
Still nothing.
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He felt as though thousands of silver needles were piercing his heart, the excruciating pain nearly unbearable.
With chilling clarity and despair, he realized her resolve to leave.
Timothy had imagined she might crumble at the mention of divorce- perhaps weeping hysterically or even attempting suicide.
None of that happened.
From beginning to end, she did only one thing.
Divorce him and walk away.
Timothy barely slept all night.
The next morning at the office, his assistant waited by the entrance.
“Mr. Mitchell, the three o’clock meeting this afternoon-”
“Cancel it.”
He cut her off, massaging his temples. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught his secretary’s hesitant look.
“Spit it out.”
“It’s just… Boss Timothy seems unusually concerned about Shirley’s whereabouts lately. But before…” The assistant trailed off.
Timothy stared through the floor–to–ceiling windows, his brow slightly furrowed.
“Was I truly that awful to her before?”
“Speak freely. Just be honest.”
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The assistant took a deep breath.
“You rarely acknowledged Shirley’s feelings, sir. And you forbade us from ever mentioning her.”
“Yet she always remembered your stomach troubles, preparing coffee in advance. Even your offhand comments–she treasured every word.”
Memories suddenly flooded back.
One late night during overtime, he’d irritably shoved aside the warm milk Shirley offered. Scalding milk splashed across her hand. She merely quickly wiped it away, then immediately brought a fresh cup.
On their third wedding anniversary, he stayed out past midnight celebrating Patricia’s birthday. Returning home, he discovered she was waiting for him, the custom–made cake she’d prepared still sitting on the dining table.
Timothy abruptly stood up, his chair scraping harshly against the carpet.
He walked to the floor–to–ceiling window, staring down at the endless stream of headlights below, his throat tightening.
She always seemed endlessly patient with him. Yet he only ever had eyes for Patricia.
His phone rang–a message from the private investigator.
“The final lead indicated Shirley boarded flight CA7949 bound for the Netherlands, but her exact whereabouts remained unknown.”
Timothy’s hand clenched the phone, trembling slightly.
Finally, he understood the source of that deep ache in his chest–the
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ache he felt seeing the divorce papers in the garage that day.
The panic of realizing something precious only after losing it.
“Mr. Mitchell?” His secretary’s voice came from behind.
“Suspend all projects. I’m going abroad.”
As Timothy turned, the look behind his glasses made his secretary pause.
He grabbed his suit jacket and strode toward the elevator.
“Book the earliest flight to the Netherlands. Now.”
The elevator doors slid shut at the corridor’s end. Timothy stared at his haggard reflection in the mirrored surface.
He once believed Shirley’s love would forever keep her waiting. Only now did he understand: even the fiercest devotion withers when met with indifference.
When the elevator display hit B1, he recalled Shirley’s final unread message.
A pang of pain shot through him.
This time, he would go find her.
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