The Return of My First Love novel Chapter 3

I locked myself in the bedroom just as my laptop screen lit up. 

It was another email from Jason. 

He's been waiting for me overseas. 

Ever since our breakup, he's sent me an email every week without fail. 

And just like clockwork, another one had arrived. 

I wiped my tears, took a deep breath, and opened it. 

Attached was a blurry photo of a black hole. 

"Observed another collapsing star today."

"Emily, how have you been? I miss you." 

"When I retire, I swear I won't turn into a black hole of sadness—I'll come back to be with you." 

"But for now, you're still too far away."

"And I miss you so much it hurts." 

Jason grew up abroad, always mixing in his dry humor with everything he said. 

Over the past five years, his messages have piled up, filling my inbox. 

The photos he sent, the words he wrote—I saved them all in a separate folder, afraid they'd disappear with time. 

But I never responded. 

Not once. 

Because unlike Lucas, I knew what it meant to be married. 

I thought if enough time passed, Jason would let me go.

But he never did. 

I scrolled through our old emails, my thoughts running wild. 

For just one fleeting moment, I hesitated. 

Then, my phone buzzed. 

Lucas had transferred a million dollars to my account. 

"I messed up. This is my way of making it up to you." 

But as I stared at that seven-figure number, I realized—no amount of money could make this anger go away. 

I finally understood. 

I needed to live for myself. 

Excitement bubbled up in my chest. 

I typed a response to Jason. 

"I won't be far for long. Give me a month. I'll come to you." 

Ever since that fight, Lucas and I had silently agreed to sleep in separate rooms. 

I took the master bedroom. He moved into the guest room. 

But every time I got up at night, the guest room door was always open, the bed empty. 

He was probably staying at Scarlett's place. 

Not that I cared anymore. 

Slowly, I packed up my things, shipping them overseas.

Jason would be there to receive them. 

Then one day, Lucas came home with a gift. 

It was a crown—a vintage piece I had stared at for a long time in a jewelry store. 

He even brought out his most expensive bottle of wine and cooked me dinner. 

"Emily, Grandpa's birthday is coming up."

"Can we just... not do this right now?" 

Another performance for the sake of appearances. 

We were used to playing this game. 

I nodded.

"Sure." 

For the past few years, Grandpa's birthdays had always been grand affairs. 

This time, we booked out the best restaurant in the city. 

Our families, business partners, and friends filled the entire space. 

Before we walked in, Lucas reached for my hand. 

As usual, I let him take it. 

But this time, he pried my fingers open—locking our hands together, fingers entwined. 

I tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip until my knuckles ached. 

Only when I gave up did he finally smile, looking satisfied, and led me inside. 

Scarlett was there, helping out the Harrison family. 

The moment Lucas saw her, his smile disappeared.