Chapter 2

"Hello, this is the MT Group CEO's office. How may I help you?"

MT. Marta? Why would he name his company using my initials? Did he still have feelings for me?

"Hello, this is the police station. We need to speak with Torres. Please transfer the call."

"Beep, beep, beep... Hello?"

Only ten seconds passed, but it felt like ten years. Hearing that familiar voice on the other end, my heart jumped into my throat.

What if he looked at me with disgust? What if he really had married Mia and had children!

I suddenly regretted this. I shouldn't have acted so impulsively.

"Is this Mr. Torres? This is the police station," the officer asked.

"Yes, how can I help you?"

I nervously picked at my nails, holding my breath, shoulders hunched, not daring to look at the officer, but my attention was completely on that phone call.

"This may sound strange, but I need you to trust me. We've found Ms. Marta, who went missing fifteen years ago. She's right here beside me, and we need you to come pick her up."

He seemed shocked, as he didn't respond for a long time.

The ticking of the second hand fell into my heart, and everything around me seemed to slow down.

Just as my face turned red from holding my breath and I was about to give up—

"No need..."

"Alright, I'll be there shortly."

I breathed a sigh of relief and sat quietly in the chair, watching as passengers were gradually picked up by their families.

Some wept with joy and embraced each other, while others glared at each other with resentment.

It seemed there were quite a few people in situations like mine. Many spouses had given up searching in the second year of our disappearance and started new families.

So our reappearance became a burden and inconvenience.

This made me nervous again. When I saw Torres, how should I face him? Would he blame me for disrupting his current life?

Extreme anxiety clouded my mind, so much so that I didn't even notice when it got dark outside.

"Why don't you come home with me for now?" the officer suggested kindly.

I looked around in confusion and realized all the passengers were gone. I was the only one left with no one to claim me.

"Tap, tap, tap!"

Urgent footsteps echoed in the hallway, and then a tall young man walked toward me, holding a yellowed photograph.

"Are you Marta?"

I nodded.

"I'm so sorry, there was traffic. I just arrived. Torres sent me to pick you up."

Not seeing Torres, I felt a bit disappointed, yet also unconsciously relieved.

The procedure for claiming someone was simple—just sign a form.

Marta—Mark.

But the person signing in the column next to my name was a man I'd known for less than a minute.

Not a father, not a husband.

"This way, please."

Following Mark's lead, I came to a black sedan. Should it still be called a sedan? Though it was bigger and better-looking than the cars from our time.

I didn't expect Torres to be sitting in the car. Just like on the giant screen, he wore a black suit and tie, meticulous and focused, his hands swiping at some kind of technological device.

Memory suddenly took me back to when we were preparing for our wedding. He was naturally free-spirited and hated constraints—with people and with clothes. Getting him to wear a suit for our wedding photos took several days of coaxing.

If I hadn't finally said "If you won't wear it, I'll find someone else to marry," he probably would have shown up shirtless at the wedding. Now I think maybe the first time he wore a suit wasn't for me.

Mia was the famous good girl and model student in our department. At first, I never thought the rebellious Torres could win her over.

But three months later, they really got together. For her, Torres not only abandoned the brothers who had followed him for years, but also shaved his head, wore a newsboy cap, and pretended to be a good student.

Why do I say "pretended"?

Because I knew "wild" was in his bones, so his romance with Mia only lasted a month.

I'd known him since childhood. To me, he'd only been absent from my life for one month, and then we naturally got together, all the way to marriage, all the way to our anniversary, when I saw him walking with Mia.

My thoughts returned to the present. Mark had already opened the back door for me.

"Marta is here."

Hearing the reminder, Torres finally looked up at me.

Our eyes met.

Not the joy or disgust I'd imagined. Just calm.