Her Vanishing Act, His Deep Regret

Elle's POV:

At the dining table, Kellan's phone buzzed. The screen flashed with the name "Azure." Across from me, my best friend Sarah exchanged a look with me, silently protesting. Everyone could see it: Kellan's concern for my sister far exceeded his care for me, his wife. I forced a smile, pretending that nothing was wrong.

Sarah leaned in and whispered, "When is he ever going to stop calling her?" Kellan was completely oblivious to this, totally absorbed in his screen, not even trying to hide it.

I gave a helpless shrug.

"She needs support right now," I repeated the excuse I had used countless times. Kellan always said he just had a soft spot, that Azure was young, fragile, and needed protection. He always said that, and I always forced myself to believe it.

A memory flashed back to our second wedding anniversary. Kellan canceled our dinner at the last minute because Azure had an "emergency"—her car had a flat tire twenty miles away.

He rushed over to change the tire and took her out for ice cream to "soothe her nerves," leaving me to eat cold pizza alone at home. Azure's trivial matters could always overshadow my important moments.

Kellan occasionally tried to balance the scales. Last month, he bought Azure a brand-new MacBook as a gift for her coding class. When he came home, he casually tossed a necklace on my pillow with a note: "For my good wife." The scales were never balanced—the computer was an absolute necessity for Azure's career dreams, while the necklace was just charity to pacify my silent dissatisfaction.

But I still wore it. Pretending not to care was always easier.

"Elle, why on earth do you put up with this?" Sarah pulled at a loose thread on her napkin, her tone sharp. Her bluntness hit the soft spot I refused to acknowledge.

I turned my head and stared at the flickering candlelight. How should I answer? Say that I just wanted a home, wanted to be loved? That sounded too pathetic, so I chose to remain silent.

This so-called "family dinner" officially began. Azure was late, as usual, and casually placed a brand-new designer handbag on the empty chair next to her.

"Kellan bought it for me, can you believe it?" She smiled brightly, looking at Kellan with gratitude. "He said I deserved a reward for getting my new job!"

Kellan looked full of pride, his eyes constantly lingering on her. He hadn't looked at me like that in a very long time.

I cleared my throat, trying to make my tone sound light. "My phone screen cracked last week, I can barely read the text now." This was a test I threw out there. I hadn't changed my phone in three years, while Kellan had bought Azure two phones in a single year.

Kellan frowned slightly. "Oh, right. I was meaning to handle that." He paused, then looked back at Azure. "But Azure was in a rush to get promoted and really needed that new computer."

A direct rejection. I looked down at my plate, silently swallowing food that tasted like cardboard. Arguing was pointless.

Our once sacred "date nights" had long gone sour. At first, it was just Azure joining us occasionally because she was "afraid of being lonely," but later it just became the norm. Kellan no longer asked for my opinion; he just issued notices. Even our last wedding anniversary was spent in a noisy restaurant with Azure and her new boyfriend. Kellan had even rented out the whole place. In this marriage, my voice was completely fading away.

A few weeks ago, I had tried to protest. "Kellan, sometimes I feel like you care more about Azure."

He responded with a long, impatient sigh. "Elle, stop saying such ridiculous things. You are my strong wife, and Azure is just a child who needs guidance. You don't need me hovering around you. Why do you always have to be jealous of her? It makes you look petty. Can't you just be happy for your sister?"

He turned it around and blamed me, making me feel like the bad guy, saying I should be more understanding.

He mentioned that Azure had a hard time growing up, conveniently forgetting that we had the same parents and the same terrible upbringing. He always promised he would make it up to me later. "We will have our special time, just the two of us, soon, I promise."

But that promise had long become an empty check. I looked at my plate, having lost my appetite entirely.

Kellan sliced the roast meat I had carefully prepared, but immediately handed the largest, most tender piece to Azure.

"You need to eat more, sweetie, keep your energy up for the challenges of the new job," he said, smiling brightly at her, before finally glancing at me. "Elle, you can have some too."

Throughout the entire dinner, Azure chattered endlessly about her "challenging" new job. Kellan listened intently, asked questions, and offered advice.

I just sat there quietly, like a bystander. Occasionally, he would casually ask me a question.

He would throw in a perfunctory "Are you okay," but his eyes never left Azure. I could only give a simple reply, "I'm fine."

After dinner, I went into the kitchen to brew the chamomile tea Kellan customarily drank before bed. From the living room, I could hear him talking on the phone in a hushed voice: "No, that unit is too small... Azure needs a large space with a balcony..."

He was helping Azure look for an apartment. My heart sank. We had agreed to start looking for our own new house next month.

I walked into the living room holding the teacup, and he quickly hung up the phone.

"Kellan, didn't we agree to look for a new house next month?"

He waved his hand. "That can wait. Azure's lease is up next week, and she desperately needs a place to live. Let's push our plans back a bit."

It was always being pushed back. I placed the cup on the coffee table and turned to leave, lacking even the energy to argue.

The next morning, that cup of chamomile tea still sat in the exact same spot, stone cold and untouched.

I stared at my reflection in the window, my hand subconsciously covering my lower abdomen. Hidden there was a secret only I knew.

The road ahead suddenly felt incredibly desolate.