Chapter 3: Ghosts of Love and Loss

"Do you know how much I wanted to see you?"

All the pain and regret poured out at once, and my tears soaked her blouse. I didn’t care who saw. I didn’t care if I looked desperate. I just needed to know she was real, that I hadn’t lost her again.

Autumn’s perfect mask cracked. Her voice trembled:

"What’s going on?"

I hugged her tighter. "I missed you so much."

The words came out raw and unfiltered. I felt her stiffen, then slowly relax in my arms. It was like holding onto hope for the first time in years.

She felt the change in me, blushed, and pushed me away. "Let’s go upstairs and talk."

Her cheeks were pink, her eyes darting away from mine. For once, she seemed unsure of herself.

The voices in my head were wild:

[Why is she blushing so much!]

[This is the closest she’s ever been to her husband—she’s totally flustered.]

I never knew Autumn had this side to her.

Her office was a spacious river-view suite at the top of the tower. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the city lights, casting reflections on the polished hardwood. A single orchid sat on her desk, petals trembling in the air conditioning. The room smelled faintly of coffee and fresh paper.

She led me to the couch, put on a kettle, and gently wiped my face with a towel. She half-knelt in front of me, eyes lowered.

I asked, "Autumn, why are you so good to me?"

She stared at my lips, then turned away, her face cooling back into its usual mask.

The voices chimed in:

[She can’t handle this! Her touch starvation is always worst on rainy days.]

[I’m dying from secondhand anxiety! Girl, kiss him, hug him! Bitter fruit is still fruit—if you want him, just say so!]

I turned and pinned Autumn down, holding her chin, demanding, "Did you marry me because you love me?"

"...No, I don’t love you."

But her body told a different story—she clung to my touch like she needed it to breathe.

I let go and stood to leave. I waited, hoping she’d stop me. Sure enough, she grabbed my wrist.

"Are you really going to leave me?"

Her grip was desperate, nails digging into my skin. For the first time, I saw fear in her eyes—the fear of being left behind.

I softened. I stopped, lowered my head, and kissed her lips. Such a stubborn mouth, but so soft to kiss.

I whispered, "If you want me to keep kissing you, you have to tell me you love me."

I knew for someone with touch starvation, a lover’s touch was almost impossible to resist. If Autumn wanted sweetness, she had to give me what I needed too.

Her cheeks turned scarlet. The smart bracelet on her wrist started beeping like crazy.

I pressed on, pushing her down on the couch. "Tonight is our wedding night—why do you want to leave me?"

I swallowed my bitterness. If Autumn loved me, why wouldn’t she say it?

"You... let go of me first."

Her voice shook as she tried to push me away, but she was too weak.

Playing the gentleman, huh? Immune to beauty, huh? I thought, a little amused and a little sad.

I pinned her to the couch and started unbuttoning my shirt, baring myself to her. But Autumn turned her head away.

"Logan, you don’t have to test me like this."

I paused, then said softly, "I’ll wait until you’re ready."

I kissed her brow and eyelids gently. "Autumn, do you really not love me?"

Her eyes were red, tears swimming inside.

"Logan, I know you hate me. If this makes you a little happier, then you can... do whatever you want."

I looked at her in silence, my heart aching for her. This foolish girl.

The voices in my head wouldn’t quit:

[Even if he stood naked in front of her, Autumn would just ask if he was cold. She could never hurt the man she loves.]

[Why’s that bracelet always going off? I’m scared she’ll just collapse.]

I sighed and let her go, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "Your heart rate’s about to blow up. I won’t tease you anymore. Let’s go get something to eat, okay?"

She nodded, dazed, then took off the bracelet. "Sorry, the bracelet’s glitching."

She tried to laugh it off, but her hands were shaking. I reached over and squeezed her fingers, just for a second. It was enough.

The voices in my head snarked:

[That’s her company’s new hit product—famous for reliability. How could the boss herself say it’s broken?]

[Guys like him only get honest after their wife leaves them.]

We went to the bistro downstairs for dinner. The place was warm and bustling, the smell of grilled steak and garlic bread drifting from the kitchen. We slid into a booth by the window, rain streaking down the glass in silver ribbons. For once, it felt almost normal—like we were just another couple grabbing a late meal after work.

Autumn and I rarely sat down to a real meal together. Once, her competitors tried to ruin her by calling her a thief. As a kid, she’d steal leftovers from diners to fill her stomach, snagging expired bread from the corner store to survive. Even as an adult, she never ate three meals on time. No one ever taught her to love herself.

I watched her cut her steak into tiny, precise bites, her hands trembling ever so slightly. It broke my heart to think of her as a little girl, hungry and alone, stealing scraps just to get by. No wonder she never believed she deserved kindness.

"Autumn, let’s eat together from now on!" I tried to sound casual.

Her hand paused as she cut her steak, then she nodded, keeping herself in check. "Sometimes I have meetings or paperwork, so I might not always make it, but otherwise I can."

I set down my fork, smiling: "Okay, whenever you eat, I’ll eat too. Plus, I’ve got stomach problems. Doctor said if I don’t eat on time, it’ll get worse."

She looked surprised. The sudden lack of control made her anxious and uneasy. She started picking at her cuticle until it bled.

I took a deep breath and held her hand. "Autumn, can you please take better care of yourself?"

I squeezed her wrist gently. "It shouldn’t be like this between us. I move one step forward, you run a hundred back. Avoiding things won’t get you a wife. Still want me to kiss you? Then eat with me every day."

[Great! Finally, some progress.]

[For Autumn, out of 100 points, I can only give 22. The other 78, she’s got to earn herself.]

She searched my eyes, as if looking for a reason to say no. After a long silence, she looked away and nodded—just barely.

As we left the restaurant, we ran into Gabrielle Tran. My ex-girlfriend of three years. We were supposed to get married.

But she had a serious heart condition. The doctors said she wouldn’t make it past thirty.

Back then, my family went bankrupt. Gabrielle was the second daughter of the Tran family, but she had no power or influence.

When I married Autumn, Gabrielle locked herself away in a dark art studio and didn’t see anyone for months.

After a while, she’d lost a lot of weight. Once radiant, now her eyes looked hollow.

She looked at Autumn and me, sorrow filling her gaze. "Logan, did you fall for Autumn that fast? What about our promises? What about everything we went through?"

Her voice trembled, breaking on the last word. There was a desperation in her eyes, the kind that comes from loving someone you can’t have. I felt the old guilt rise up, thick and suffocating.

Gabrielle clutched her chest, gasping for breath. I caught her, digging through her purse for her medicine.

"Take it easy, you’re having an episode."

She pulled me close, voice thick with tears. "Hold me, and I’ll be okay."

She sobbed: "Logan, will you wait for me? I’ll become your hero and save you from Autumn. I’ll take over the Tran family and make you the boss. After that, no one will ever come between us."

Her grip was fierce, as if she could hold onto the past by sheer willpower. I could feel Autumn’s eyes on us, the weight of her silence pressing down like a storm cloud.

She held onto me, and I met Autumn’s eyes as she stood aside. Her eyes were red, emotions swirling like a storm.

The voices in my head piped up:

[What is this—does the second lead have touch starvation too? Needs his hug to feel better? Ugh.]

[It’s over. Seeing that look, he’s going to get the cold shoulder at home.]

[She’s crying—dude, comfort her! She needs a hug.]

I felt torn in two, caught between the life I’d lost and the one I was trying to rebuild. Autumn stood there, her shoulders squared, but I could see the pain flickering behind her eyes. For the first time, I realized how fragile we all were—how easy it was to lose everything, even when you thought you were finally safe.