A New Dawn by the Sea

Start Reading

The sharp scent of disinfectant, mingled with the lingering chill of late winter, seeped into my nostrils.

I sat on the plastic chair in the hospital room, my fingertips so cold I could barely hold Gary's hand.

Raymond lay on the hospital bed, his once proud frame wasted down to little more than skin and bones, his breathing as fragile as a thread on the verge of snapping.

His gaunt hand struggled to rise, first grasping Gary's wrist, then slowly locking onto my fingers.

"Gary, Rachel," his voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping. "Mary Shawn... she is weak. The doctor said... she won't last three months."

Gary Jones's eyes were red-rimmed, his voice choked as he nodded, "Brother, don't worry; I'll take good care of her."

I gazed into Raymond Jones's pleading eyes, tears slipping down to fall onto the back of his hand: "We will, Raymond. She won't suffer the least bit of injustice."

A faint smile touched the corners of Raymond's lips as he held our hands, slowly losing strength.

The heart monitor let out a piercing, continuous alarm, breaking the silence of the hospital room.

Gary Jones suddenly pulled me into a tight embrace, his shoulders shaking violently, tears soaking through the collar of my shirt.

Mary Shawn stood to one side, her frail shoulders trembling as tears streamed down her face like rain on pear blossoms.

In that moment, I believed it was the beginning of a promise and a vow of protection.

Little did I know, it was the prelude to a long deception and the beginning of the collapse of my relationship with Gary.

After Raymond Jones's funeral, Mary Shawn moved into the home Gary and I had shared.

The house was bought before our marriage, with a small garden; Gary had once said he wanted to fill it with the roses I loved.

On her first day there, Mary Shawn timidly tugged at my sleeve: "I have nightmares at night. Could I have Gary stay up and talk with me for a while?"

Gary Jones glanced at me with an apologetic nod.

I sat in the living room, listening to the whispers from the study until late into the night.

That night, the space beside me was mostly empty, and my heart felt heavy, as if something was lodged deep inside.

Day by day, Mary Shawn's condition not only failed to deteriorate but grew increasingly flushed and vibrant.

She was no longer timid, leaning more and more naturally on Gary Jones.

"Gary, I feel dizzy. Could you take me to the hospital?" She frowned, standing before Gary Jones, looking fragile and vulnerable.

Gary Jones would always set aside whatever he was doing and take her without a word.

When we came back, the doctor's diagnosis was always "just weak, rest needed."

I reminded Gary Jones, "Mary Shawn seems to be fine."

He frowned and replied, "Rachel, Mary Shawn was entrusted to me by my brother. Taking extra care is only right. Don't read too much into it."

I met his earnest gaze, but the words I wanted to say caught in my throat.

Yes, that was our promise.

Yet why does my heart grow heavier with each passing day?

For our third wedding anniversary, I booked a Western restaurant that Gary Jones had wanted to try, well in advance.

I put on the lotus pink dress he gave me and sat in the dining room waiting for him.

Half an hour past the appointed time, Gary Jones still hadn't arrived.

When the phone connected, his voice was rushed: "Rachel, I'm sorry, Mary Shawn is having chest pains. I have to take her to the hospital. We'll have to celebrate the anniversary another day."

My fingers clutching the phone went white, and the piano music in my ear made me feel painfully absurd.

"Gary Jones, do you still remember what day it is today?" I tried to keep my voice steady.

"I remember, but Mary Shawn's condition is urgent. Rachel, please be sensible."

The words "Be more sensible" struck my heart like needles.

I hung up the phone and sat alone at the dining table. The steak slowly cooled, like my heart quietly growing cold.

Incidents like this happened with increasing frequency.

I worked overtime until late and messaged him to come pick me up. He replied, "Mary Shawn is afraid of thunder and can't leave."

I lay in bed with a heavy cold, wanting him to bring me a glass of hot water, but he was in the kitchen preparing rock sugar pear syrup for Mary Shawn: "Her throat hurts; she shouldn't be made to suffer."

I began to wonder if Mary Shawn was truly fragile, or if she was wielding her vulnerability as a weapon.

And Gary Joneswas it out of a promise to his brother, or had he long since leaned toward this "someone who needed protection" in their time together?

The spark was a movie.

I had been looking forward to that film for a long time, buying tickets a week ahead and deliberately choosing the couple seats.

On the day the movie premiered, I left work early, changed clothes, and put on light makeup.

Gary Jones also came home on time, his mood seeming pleasant.

Just as we were about to leave, Mary Shawn's bedroom door suddenly opened.

She wore a thin nightgown, her face pale, clutching her stomach: "Gary, my stomach hurts terriblyI think my appendix is acting up."

Gary Jones's face changed suddenly, and instinctively he moved to go over.

"Mary Shawn," I stopped him, holding back my anger, "The hospital said your appendix was removed long agohow could it be acting up now?"

Mary Shawn's eyes flickered before they welled with tears. "I... I don't know. It just hurts badly, maybe it's something else..."

She crouched on the floor, tears streaming down, looking utterly helpless.

Gary Jones pushed my hand away, his voice heavy with reproach: "Rachel! At a time like this, why are you still questioning her? If something happens to Mary Shawn, my brother will not rest in peace."

"What about me?" Tears finally streamed down my face.

"Gary Jones, how long has it been since we had spent time together? I've been waiting a whole week for this movie! You always put her firstwhat exactly do I mean to you?"

"Can you stop making a fuss?" Gary Jones raised his voice. "Mary Shawn is a patient! You're healthycan't you show a little understanding?"

"Patient?" I laughed through my tears. "Don't you have any idea whether she's really sick or not? Gary Jones, your favoritism toward her is going too far!"

This was the first intense argument we'd had since our marriage.

In the end, Gary Jones still took Mary Shawn to the hospital.

Holding two crumpled movie tickets, I stood alone in the empty living room, feeling as if the whole world were spinning.

That ticket was like the ever-widening rift between Gary Jones and me.

My birthday was drawing near.

I held no expectations, only a lingering fear.

Fearful that Gary Jones would be absent again because of Mary Shawn, fearful I would once again sink into the abyss of disappointment.

Yet deep down, a faint glimmer of hope remained.

Perhaps he would remember; perhaps, for once, he would set Mary Shawn aside for me.

On my birthday, I took the day off early and returned home.

I spent the whole afternoon busy in the kitchen, preparing a table full of Gary Jones's favorite dishes and even baked a small birthday cake, with a candle placed on it.

I changed into a new outfit and sat at the dining table, waiting for him.

The clock ticked from six in the evening to ten at night.

The food grew cold, then warm again, warm then cold once more, and the candle on the cake remained unlit.

I called Gary Jones, but he immediately hung up on me.

Minutes later, a message came through: "Mary Shawn has a fever of 38.5 degrees. I have to stay with her. Happy birthday, Rachel. I'm sorry."

The moment I saw the message, all my hopes turned to ashes.

A fever of 38.5 degrees meant he had to stay by my side without leaving.

And I, his wife, sat alone on my birthday night before a table of cold dishesas if I were some cruel joke.

I didn't respond. I grabbed my coat and stepped out of the house.

Outside, the drizzle fell cold against my faceI couldn't tell if it was rain or tears.

I slipped into a roadside diner, settled into a corner, and ordered a bowl of noodles.

When the noodles arrived, the rising steam blurred my eyes.

I ate bite after bite, the flavor as hollow as chewing wax.

The girl at the next desk was unwrapping a gift, and the boy watched her tenderly, his eyes filled with adoration.

I suddenly collapsed onto the desk, my shoulders shaking violently as I cried like a lost child.

In that moment, I realized with piercing clarity: Gary Jones's heart was no longer with me.

And I could no longer lie to myself.

After the birthday, Gary and I fell into a silent cold war.

He tried to soothe me: "Once Mary Shawn is feeling better, I'll take you traveling, and dining at the finest restaurants."

I simply looked at him coldly, offering no reply.

The doubts in my heart grew heavier: was Mary Shawn's illness real, or an elaborate deception?

I decided to seek the truth myself.

I remembered Gary Jones saying that Mary Shawn had always been treated by Dr. Clark at the city center hospital.

That day, I took a leave deliberately and went to the hospital.

When I found Dr. Clark's office, I explained my purpose: "I'm a friend of Mary Shawn's, and I want to check her condition because I'm worried about her."

Dr. Clark looked somewhat troubled: "It's not appropriate to disclose the patient's condition to outsiders."

I showed him a photo of Mary Shawn and me on my phone: "I mean no harmI just want to know how to care for her."

Dr. Clark glanced at the photo, hesitating before he said, "Ms. Shawn is actually in no serious condition."

My heart jumped. "What did you say? Gary Jones said the doctor predicted she wouldn't live more than three months."

"No more than three months?" Dr. Clark was momentarily taken aback, then shook his head.

"That's impossible. She's come for several visits; all test results show she's healthyonly mild anemia, nothing life-threatening."

My heart plummeted. As I feared, my suspicions were correct.

"But every time she comes, she says she feels unwell, and the diagnosis is..."

"Oh," Dr. Clark suddenly realized, "she repeatedly complains of dizziness, chest pain, and stomach aches, but detailed examinations reveal no organic lesions. I suspect these are psychosomatic symptoms stemming from psychological causes, or..."

He didn't say more, but I already understood.

Mary Shawn is feigning illness.

She used a fabricated serious illness to win Gary Jones's sympathy and company, and in doing so, destroyed our marriage.

I stepped out of the doctor's office, my body chilled through.

At that moment, I saw Gary supporting Mary Shawn, approaching from the far end of the corridor.

Mary leaned against Gary's chest, her face pale, looking fragile and faint.

Gary saw me, froze briefly, frowned, and said, "Rachel, what are you doing here?"

"Why can't I be here?" My voice trembled. "Gary, she isn't sick at all! She's been lying to you this entire time!"

Mary Shawn shuddered, tightly grasping Gary's arm as tears spilled immediately.

"Rachel, how could you say that about me? I know you're unhappy that Gary is taking care of me, but you can't curse me like that... I really don't feel well..."

"Shut up!" I shook with rage. "I just spoke with Dr. Clark. You're perfectly healthy! The whole won't live past three months' story is a lie!"

Gary's expression shifted as he looked at Mary Shawn, hesitation flickering in his eyes.

Mary Shawn sobbed harder, her body trembling: "Gary, I'm not lying to you. Did Dr. Clark make a mistake? I'm really in pain... If you don't believe me, then I might as well just die!"

She spoke as she reeled toward the wall, almost to crash into it.

Gary immediately grabbed her, then turned and glared at me, eyes blazing with anger and disappointment: "Rachel, you've gone too far! Mary is this sick, and you're still spewing lies! How can you be so cruel!"

I stared at him in disbelief.

Even confronted with irrefutable facts, he still believed Mary Shawn, going so far as to accuse me of being heartless.

At that moment, the last trace of affection I harbored for him utterly disappeared.

"Gary Jones," I said, my voice unnervingly calm, "I'm not lying. Believe it or not. But I've had enough."

I turned around and walked slowly out of the hospital corridor.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, but it could not warm my freezing heart.

I never knew if Gary ever confirmed Mary Shawn's diagnosis afterward.

But he never sought me out again. Our cold war deepened into total estrangement.

I moved into a rented apartment near the company, no longer going back to that home filled with lies and betrayal.

Half a month later, I received an invitation.

It was an engagement invitation from Gary Jones and Mary Shawn.

Looking at the names embossed in gold, all I felt was a deep absurdity.

My husband was about to be engaged to the woman who had deceived him and shattered our marriage.

I didn't know whether he was blinded by love or intent on carrying out the cruel charade of "commitment" to the very end.

But I knew I couldn't just let it all slide like this.

The engagement banquet was set to be held at the city's most luxurious hotel.

That day, I entered the banquet hall in a red dress, my makeup impeccably done.

All eyes were on me, filled with surprise and scrutiny.

Gary Jones stood beside Mary Shawn in a sharp suit; Mary wore a white gown, like a proud princess, accepting the crowd's blessings.

On seeing me, Gary's face darkened instantly, while a gleam of triumph and challenge flashed in Mary's eyes.

"Rachel, what are you doing here?" Gary hurried over, lowering his voice, "You're not welcome here. Leave at once."

"Not welcome?" I smiled, my voice low yet loud enough for those nearby to hear.

"Gary Jones, I am your lawful wife. You got engaged to another womanshouldn't you have told me?"

Whispers spread around us, and Gary's face flushed a deep crimson.

Mary Shawn took Gary's arm gently and said softly, "Rachel, I know you're upset, but Gary and I truly love each other. My health is poor. He cared for me to fulfill Raymond Jones's last wish, but over time, feelings grew."

"Truly in love?" I looked at her feigning innocence, feeling nothing but disgust.

"Mary Shawn, do you dare say in front of everyone that your serious illness is real? That you didn't deceive Gary?"

Mary Shawn's face went pale, and she instinctively hid behind Gary.