Only the Worthy Get Warmth

My husband lived two entirely different lives.

During the day, his face was a mask of cold stone. He rarely spoke more than three words to me at a time.

Ate. No. Go to sleep.

But the moment the clock struck eleven at night, he became someone else entirely.

He would wrap his arms around me from behind, burying his face in the crook of my neck, whispering how desperately he had missed me all day.

I checked, over and over. He was not faking. He genuinely had no memory of a single thing he said or did after midnight.

The doctor called it a mild case of dissociative identity disorder.

The nighttime version of him was clingy, childish, and possessively intense. And I, craving whatever warmth I could get, began to live for the dark.

Until one morning, he found my phone. It was filled with late-night photos and voice recordings of us.

He stared at the screen for a long time before looking up at me, his eyes devoid of emotion.

"You saved so many of these," he said, his voice flat. "Why isn't there a single one of me during the day?"

"Because the daytime you isn't worth saving."

The moment the words left my mouth, Garys pupils contracted. He tossed the phone onto the coffee table with a heavy, hollow thud.

"Eve, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

I gripped the hem of my pajamas, forcing myself to look straight into his cold eyes.

"It means, Gary, that you are a ghost in this house during the day. You brush me off with three-word sentences, as if looking at me is a waste of your precious time. All your warmth is reserved for Daisy on the other end of your phone."

His jaw clenched. "Don't start this again. Daisy is practically family. She's fragile, she needs looking after. Aren't you a bit too old to be throwing tantrums over a little sister?"

Too old. I was barely two years older than Daisy, yet in his mouth, I sounded like an ancient, bitter crone.

I pulled a receipt from my pocket and slapped it onto the table.

Gary's gaze fell on the slip of paper, his breath hitching.

The receipt was crystal clear. Yesterday, from two in the afternoon until seven in the evening, he had spent five hours at a home decor boutique with Daisy.

And during those exact five hours, I was burning up with a fever so high I nearly blacked out. I had texted him, begging for help. He had ignored every single message.

"We were just buying furniture," he said, raising his voice, though his eyes darted away. "Our families have been close for decades. What's wrong with helping her pick out a sofa? Stop overthinking everything."

"Five hours," I whispered. "You spent five hours picking out a sofa for her. I asked you to buy me medicine, and you didn't even bother to read my texts."

Gary looked away, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I didn't see them."

"You did," I said, my voice dropping to a flat, dead calm. "Because at exactly 7:03 PM, you replied to Daisy's voice note, telling her you'd just finished up and would see her tomorrow."

Left without an excuse, Gary sank heavily into the sofa, looking sullen. I turned on my heel and walked back to the bedroom.

Lying on the bed, the image of his defensive, guilty face replayed in my mind.

The clock ticked away. Eleven. Twelve.

At one in the morning, the bedroom door clicked open. I had forgotten that locking it from the inside was useless; he always knew where the spare key was kept.

Gary slipped under the covers, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist, burying his face against my back.

"Eve... I missed you so much today." His voice was muffled, thick with a childlike vulnerability. "Why did you lock the door? Are you mad at me?"

I didn't move. I didn't say a word.

He nuzzled closer, squeezing me tighter. "Please don't be mad... I'll be good, I promise."

My fingers slowly traced his soft hair, my eyes staring blankly at the dark ceiling. He didn't remember a thing about the day. He was just acting on pure instinct, seeking me out, clinging to me.

But this stolen warmth of the night could never heal the deep, bleeding wounds of the day.

Gary mumbled against my skin, his voice drifting off. "Eve, can you stay home tomorrow? Just stay with me..."

I closed my eyes and offered no reply.

Because I knew that the moment the sun rose, the man who said those words would vanish.

The next morning, the sweet, heavy scent of boiling porridge woke me.

For a fleeting second, I wondered if Gary had actually found a conscience. But when I walked into the kitchen, I froze.

Daisy was standing there in a floral apron, carefully pouring hot porridge into a ceramic bowl.

"Gary, look, it's ready. Come taste it."

Gary took the spoon, sliding a bowl covered in crushed peanuts onto the dining table. He saw me standing in the doorway, but his eyes quickly darted away.

"Daisy came over early to make breakfast," he said coolly. "If you want some, get it yourself."

I stared at the bowl.

The layer of crushed peanuts was thick and unmistakable.

Just two weeks ago, I had been rushed to the emergency room due to a severe peanut allergy, spending a terrifying night under observation. On the day I was discharged, the doctor had explicitly warned Gary, right to his face, that every trace of peanuts had to be cleared from our home.

He had nodded. He had promised.

And now, here was this bowl, sitting right in front of me.

"Gary," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "There are peanuts in that."

He frowned, looking mildly annoyed.

Daisy immediately shrank back behind Gary's shoulder, her eyes turning red as she squeezed out a tear.

"Eve... I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were allergic. I just wanted to make Gary some breakfast... please don't be mad at me." Her voice was soft, trembling with practiced innocence.

Garys face darkened, and he instinctively stepped in front of her to shield her.

"Eve, she went out of her way to make breakfast, and this is the attitude you show her?"

"Gary, my allergy is life-threatening."

"Then just don't eat it," he snapped. "Is it really worth making a scene? Lose the dramatic princess act, its getting old."

Daisy peeked from behind his shoulder, her eyes watery, but the corners of her mouth twitched into a tiny, triumphant smirk.

I didn't argue. I walked past them into the bathroom and opened the cabinet beneath the sink.

My toothbrush and toiletries had been swept into a messy pile at the bottom, my toothbrush bent out of shape. In their place on the counter stood a neat row of imported skincare products, each bearing a little label written in Daisys neat handwriting: Daisy's Only.

I stared at the little labels, a sudden, cold laugh escaping my throat.

I went back to the bedroom, pulled out a suitcase, and packed a few changes of clothes.

When I walked back through the living room, Gary was placing food onto Daisy's plate, never once looking up. Daisy, however, watched me with a sweet smile.

"Are you heading out, Eve? Have a safe trip."

I dragged my suitcase to the entryway. Before opening the door, I pulled out my phone and dialed the wedding planner.

"Hello, this is Eve."

"I need to cancel the wedding ceremony scheduled for next Wednesday."

Behind me, the clink of chopsticks and the shared laughter of Gary and Daisy filled the apartment. Neither of them heard a word I said.

The planner confirmed the cancellation and promised a refund of the deposit within three business days.

I hung up, walked out, and let the door slam shut behind me.

By the weekend, it was time for the weekly family dinner at the Harrington estate.

I hadn't wanted to go, but Gary's mother had called three times, her voice growing icier with each ring.

"Eve, you are Gary's fiance. Skipping a family dinner is unacceptable."

When I arrived, the dining table was already crowded with relatives. Gary's mother seated me at the very end of the table, right next to the drafty kitchen door where the servers passed through.

Daisy, meanwhile, sat in the seat of honor right next to Gary's right hand.

His mother was beaming, placing freshly peeled lobster meat into Daisy's bowl.

"Eat up, Daisy. You're so thin, it breaks my heart. A daughter raised right really is the sweet one. You always know exactly what I like."

Daisy smiled sweetly. "You're so good to me, Auntie, of course I want to take care of you."

The relatives around the table chimed in with warm laughter. I quietly ate my greens, keeping my eyes down.

Halfway through the meal, Daisy suddenly clutched her chest and let out a soft cough.

"Gary... I feel a bit dizzy."

Gary immediately dropped his utensils and turned to me.

"Eve, go to the kitchen and whip up some hangover soup for Daisy."

It wasn't a request. It was an order.

My fingers tightened around my spoon until my knuckles turned white.

Last winter, when I had a high fever coupled with acute gastroenteritis, I had curled into a ball on the bed, sweating and shaking from pain. Gary had stood at the bedroom door, looked at me, and said, "Take a cab to the hospital yourself, I have a meeting." Then he closed the door and left.

And now, because Daisy coughed twice, he expected me to play her maid.

I let go of my spoon. It fell onto the small plate with a sharp clatter.

The entire table fell silent, every eye turning toward me.

"I'm not doing that."

Gary slammed his palm onto the table.

"Eve! What is wrong with your attitude?" He pointed a finger at my face. "No manners, no breeding. How did someone like you even think about marrying into this family?"

Daisy gently pulled at his sleeve. "Gary, don't be angry, I'm fine..."

His mother sneered. "Eve, if you don't want to be here, leave. Stop embarrassing us in front of the guests."

I stood up, ignoring his mother, and looked straight into Garys eyes.

"Gary, what day is next Wednesday?"

He waved his hand dismissively, his face twisted in annoyance.

"The wedding? Do you have to keep nagging about it? Get out of here, you're ruining everyone's appetite."

I let out a cold laugh and nodded.

"Don't regret this, Gary."

As I turned to leave, I caught Daisy lowering her head to take a sip of her soup, a smug grin playing on her lips.

I walked out of the Harrington estate into a cold, drizzling rain. The drops hit my face, shocking me into absolute clarity.

My phone buzzed. It was a confirmation email from the wedding planner.

Dear Ms. Eve, the wedding reservation has been successfully canceled. Your deposit will be refunded within three business days.

I stared at the screen. Next Wednesday was supposed to be our wedding.

He didn't remember. Or rather, he simply didn't care.

I typed back a single word: Acknowledged.

Next Wednesday arrived.

I sat in the middle of my cleared apartment, looking at the empty closets. Every trace of my existence had been packed away into storage. There was nothing left of me here.

My phone screen lit up with a text from Gary.

Daisy is sick and needs someone with her. I'm staying at the hospital tonight. If you don't apologize for your behavior at dinner, the wedding is postponed. Think it over.

I stared at the words, whispering them to myself. Think it over.

Because Daisy was sick, he was going to spend the night by her side. Which meant even the nighttime version of him, the one who held me and whispered that he loved me, was being locked away.

I opened social media and saw a post Daisy had uploaded just a minute ago.

It was a selfie of her smiling at the camera, with Gary asleep against the side of her hospital bed in the background.

The caption read: He put our big day on hold just to stay by my side~ I'm so touched. Gary is the absolute best.

The comments below were already piling up.

Oh my god, he's so devoted! True husband material.

Is he a protective big brother or a boyfriend? Haha.

Won't his fiance get jealous? This seems a bit much right before the wedding.

Daisy had replied to the last one: Eve is very understanding, she wouldn't mind at all!

I slowly set my phone down.

I opened my gallery. Inside were thousands of photos and hundreds of voice notes.

All of them were of Gary.

Selfies of him smiling foolishly while holding me at two in the morning. Voice recordings of him sleepily whispering "Eve, I love you so much." Videos of him resting his head on my lap, begging for cuddles.

I used to cling to these like a lifeline. No matter how much he ignored me during the day, no matter how much he hurt me, I would tell myself it was fine, because the nighttime version of him truly loved me.

But now, his willingness to throw away those nights proved that even that part of him was just an inconvenience to him.

I selected all the files.

Every single photo, every single recording.

Delete permanently.

When the confirmation prompt popped up, I didn't hesitate. Five years of late-night devotion dissolved into digital dust.

I placed the apartment keys on the entryway table and dragged my suitcase out.

Inside the elevator, I sent Gary one final text.

"The wedding isn't postponed. I canceled it five days ago."

Then, I deleted the chat, blocked his number, and turned off my phone.

By three in the afternoon, Gary was jolted awake by a barrage of frantic calls from his relatives. He threw on his coat and rushed to the hotel.

But when he arrived, the grand ballroom lobby was completely empty.

No welcome signs, no floral arches, no guest registry.

He ran inside, grabbing a passing manager by the arm.

"Where is the Harrington wedding? Which hall is it in?"

The manager flipped through his tablet and looked up with a polite, puzzled expression.

"Sir, Ms. Eve canceled the entire venue booking five days ago. The catering, the decorations, the party favors, everything was canceled."

Gary stood frozen in the center of the grand lobby, the world spinning around him. He checked his phone frantically, but every call to Eve went straight to a dead-end busy tone. He was blocked.

Just then, his mothers voice pierced through the murmurs of the gathered relatives.

"Gary! Where on earth is Eve? We went to pick her up, but her apartment was completely empty!"

Panic, cold and sharp, flooded his veins. He opened his social media feed, his eyes landing on Daisys gloating post: He gave up his wedding for me~

Right beneath it, a newly added comment from a mutual friend stared back at him:

So the bride ran away to let you two be together? Honestly, congrats!