“How do you know Lucy? Who the hell is Tiffany?” Tristan asked.

“Uh… I— I… she… uhm…” why on Earth was I stuttering? 

“Please speak to me.” He shoved the box aside to move closer to me, holding my hands that began to vibrate. 

“Tristan, I— I don’t… really… wh—”

“Hazel,” he called with his teeth gritted in frustration. 

“I— I— I’m… I don’t think she’s who… no, Lucy isn’t Tiffany. She just really looks like her.” I ended with a nervous smile, hoping he wasn’t going to press further.

“So who the hell is Tiffany? And why do you seem so scared to see her again?” He was starting to frown really hard. 

“Uh… she’s…” I was trying to think of the perfect way to describe Tiffany, but nothing sensible could fit. “Tristan, please forget it.”

“Forget it?!” He snapped, jerking to his feet and letting go of me. “What is it now? What are you hiding?” He was almost yelling. 

“Tristan, please.” My heart was pounding harder in my chest. 

“What is it, Hazel? What is wrong with your life? As much as I try my best to stay calm and be supportive, you’re not helping it. I always try to convince myself that you'll let me know whatever you’re hiding soon, you'll let me know at the right time, but I’m always wrong. You’re not ready to reveal anything to me. Don’t you trust me?!” 

“Tristan,” I called as tears streamed down my face.

“What is it, Hazel? I feel so confused at all times. There are so many secrets to be unveiled, so many things are making me feel like I’m going crazy. Ranging from mysterious text messages, phone calls, remaining quiet about everything… Hazel, don’t you realize I’m human? Don’t you realize these things can affect the trust in our marriage? Don’t you think I deserve to know the truth? Don’t you realize fear and doubts can roam in my head?” His tone and frown made my tears increase and I began to wail, burying my face in my palms. 

“Stop crying.” He patted my back. 

“I’m sorry, Tristan.” I sobbed at every sentence, “it’s not my intention to keep anything from you. It’s just—”

“It’s just what? Who calls you all the time with unknown numbers?” 

I raised my head to him, thinking of what to say, but I just couldn’t seem to trust myself to say anything, so I burst into another round of tears. 

“Of course you won’t say anything.” He gruffed, turning around; I held his hand to stop him from leaving. 

“Please don’t go.” 

He cast a dangerous glare at me, then threw my hands from his grip, storming out of the room. 

I buried my face in my palms again, hating how my life just hated me. I cried all night till I gave in to the darkness of sleep.

*** 

I woke up to an extremely sad morning with a throbbing headache that felt as though a rock had been placed on my head. Tristan wasn’t beside me, but there were clothes for me to wear, so I had a bath and carried out my morning routine before slipping into the crop sweater and high-waist trousers and left the room, to the living room.

“Good morning, Hazel.” Imogen greeted me with a smile, but her smile slipped off and she held my shoulders. “What’s wrong, dear? Where’s Tristan? What happened?” 

I simply shook my head.

“Hazel, please speak to me. I’m just like a mother to you, okay? You can trust me. What happened? Did you have a fight with Tristan? Are you hurt?” 

Tristan, fully dressed, sprinted down the stairs with the most frigid facial expression. 

“Tristan, what’s wrong?” She let go of me and walked up to Tristan. 

“Good morning, Mom.” He kissed her forehead, not smiling for even a second and continued walking. 

“Where are you going?”

“Home. I have to grab a few things then go back to work.”

“Won’t you both at least have breakfast? I specifically made this special for you.” 

“I’m sorry Ma, but I have to leave now. Hazel can stay to enjoy your breakfast.” 

“No! I’ll go with you.”

“Hazel?” Imogen said in disappointment. 

Tristan glared at me then huffed, “meet me in the car. Don’t waste any time.” He left without another word. 

“Oh my gosh. Where did this Tristan come from again? Hazel, please what happened? What’s gotten into him?”

“Uh… thanks for having us here. Bye now.” I also took my leave before she questioned me any further. 

I quickly got into Tristan’s car, turning to him. “Good morning.”

“Driver, start the car,” he instructed, slipping his phone out. 

“Tristan, please don’t give me the silent treatment.” He didn’t respond to me, so I held his hand, which he immediately yanked out of my grip, his frown became even harder. 

“Please don’t touch me or bother me. I need to feel alone. I have a lot to do.” 

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t respond to me and continued typing on his phone. 

*** 

It had been a week— A WHOLE WEEK— since Tristan had been acting grumpy towards me. 

He hadn’t even cared to speak to me, he hadn’t eaten anything I cooked, he has been spending extra hours at work to avoid me, he hasn’t made physical contact with me, he hasn’t been sleeping in our room. It was so torturous for me. He was acting like the old grumpy and cold Tristan everyone once knew him as. 

I had woken up to a silent house once again and my entire morning was so gloomy. 

Towards Tristan's home office room, I was hearing sounds from inside, so I decided to open the door to check. 

To my surprise, Tristan was there, on his seat. A smile spread on my lips to see him once again. 

He glanced at me, but returned his gaze to his laptop. 

I walked up to his table and pulled a chair from the other side of his table to pull it beside the chair he was on, turning the chair to face him. 

“Tristan, are you still mad at me?” I asked, but he simply ignored me and paid attention to his laptop like his life depended on it. 

“Tristan,” I grumbled, closing the laptop.

“Hazel!” He snapped, startling the hell out of me. “Do you realize how important that is?” 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t put up with you ignoring me anymore.” I could feel my eyes getting teary once again. 

He peered into my eyes for a while before heaving a sigh, raking his fingers through his hair. “What now?”

“What now?” I repeated. 

“Yes. What do you want now?”

“For you to stop with this attitude.” 

“And are you ready to say anything?” 

“I really don’t know. I promise I’ll let you know everything, but—”

“Who the hell is Tiffany?” 

“Tiffany? Uh… she’s just a random person.”

“Oh, really? And she’s Lucy?” 

“No!” I exclaimed. 

“Then who is she?” His tone seemed angry again. 

“She was just someone from my high school.” That wasn’t a lie, I swear.

“Oh, really? And that’s all?” He re-opened his laptop, still maintaining his strict face. 

“Y-yes.” 

“I don’t believe you,” he admitted, opening a new file on his laptop, then typed 'Hazel– Tiffany’. “What’s her last name?” 

“Her last name? Uh… I don’t think I remember.” I was growing curious to know what he was up to. 

“Does Indy know her?” 

“No. I only knew Indy in college, remember?” 

“Okay. What was the name of your high school?”

I drew my eyes in askance, but answered, “Bandon High School.”

He typed it down before asking, “where?”

“Louisiana. What? Are you also a detective or something?”

He shushed me and typed the state before he turned to me. “Is there anything else you’d like to let me know?” 

“Not yet, but I promise there'll be a perfect time and—”

“Do you realize I’m a billionaire?” He cut me off. 

I lifted a confused brow at him. “Uh… yes.”

“That means I can have almost everything I want with just a flick of my fingers. Don’t you know it’ll be such a piece of cake for me to download your entire life history? The little information I know about you can be sent to Rob, then the right body will analyze your data and, after a while, I’ll have every single bit of detail of your past, present, and possibly future, in my hands.”