"The Mortician’s Silent Goodbye" Chapter 2
"I only just got back. How did you get so soaked?"
Clara clutched her sodden hem: "I called you, but you didn't answer..."
Before she could finish, Julian’s phone rang.
He immediately picked it up, and Stephanie’s gentle voice came from the other end.
"Thank you so much, Senior. I didn't expect you to go out of your way to drop me off in such heavy rain."
A smile played on Julian’s lips: "It’s nothing. The rain was too heavy outside; it wouldn’t be safe for you to walk alone."
With that, he hung up.
Clara stood there, her chest feeling as if something was blocking it, unable to breathe.
So, Julian also understood how dangerous it is to walk alone in the rain, and would also worry about the safety of others being out by themselves.
Yet, for her—the wife who had shared a bed with him for three years—he had never once shown such concern.
Only then did Julian glance at the missed calls on his screen and scan Clara.
"Why did you call me so many times?"
All of Clara’s grievances and unwillingness suddenly lost their strength at this moment.
She lowered her eyes: "It was nothing, I pressed it by accident."
Julian’s gaze landed on her, his brows slightly furrowed.
"Go wash your hands and change your clothes quickly; don’t catch a cold."
Clara stood where she was, for the first time not immediately going to the bathroom to disinfect.
Instead, wearing her drenched clothes, she walked straight into the living room.
Rainwater dripped from her pant legs, leaving a long trail of water on the floor.
Married to Julian for three years—over a thousand days and nights—she had been cautious and accommodating, making his preferences her standard.
She had thought that as long as she worked hard enough, as long as she persisted enough.
One day, Julian would see her and respond to her.
But until today, for the first time, Clara asked herself seriously—
After all these years, what exactly was she aiming for?
Chapter 3
Clara couldn't find an answer after thinking about it all night.
When she woke up the next day, Julian was standing in front of the wardrobe changing his shirt.
He said with his back to her, "The department director’s son is getting married today, you’re coming with me."
Clara was stunned: "Haven't you always refused to take me to these occasions?"
Julian finished fastening the last button, turned around, and glanced at her.
"The director specifically requested that spouses be brought this time. Get ready, we leave at eleven."
Listening to this, Clara didn't know how to describe the feeling in her heart.
In the three years since they married, Julian had never taken her to any of his colleagues' gatherings or department dinners; this was the first time.
And it was only because the boss required it.
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Julian waited for her in the living room.
Seeing her emerge, he looked up at her once, but said nothing.
Upon arriving at the hotel, just as Julian led Clara to their seats, Stephanie walked over.
She was wearing a wine-red dress, and standing beside Julian, they looked inexplicably like a perfect match.
"Dr. Stephanie, you look so beautiful today! This dress is in the same color scheme as Dr. Julian’s tie; you two match so well!"
Several colleagues nearby teased them with laughter.
Stephanie smiled, her gaze sweeping over Clara without a trace, and she spoke softly.
"Clara is here today too, you guys shouldn't joke around so recklessly."
Everyone fell silent one after another, and the scene quieted down instantly.
Stephanie sat down next to Julian with a smile, leaned over to greet Clara, and then began discussing department-related topics with Julian.
They chatted about last week’s surgery and next week’s academic conference.
Julian responded naturally, and was occasionally amused by her words.
This smile was one Clara had seen in the hospital corridors, but never at home.
The expression he wore most often for her was no expression at all.
After the bride and groom finished their toasts and left, a colleague teased Julian with a smile.
"I never heard that Dr. Julian was already married. I didn't expect you to have a beautiful wife hidden at home. How did you two meet?"
Julian held his wine glass and said indifferently.
"Met on a blind date."
The colleague pressed further: "What line of work is your wife in?"
Just as Clara was about to speak, Julian glanced at her flatly: "She works at another hospital."
A vague, decent answer.
Clara followed along with a smile, disguising herself as Julian’s perfect accomplice—
Helping him hide her true self away.
After the banquet ended, Clara went to the restroom.
She hadn't pushed the door open when she returned, but she heard Stephanie’s voice coming from inside.
"Senior, isn't Clara a mortician at the funeral home? Why did you say she works at a hospital?"
Julian’s voice was very calm: "It’s a joyous occasion; saying it out loud is bad luck, so I’d rather avoid people pointing fingers."
Stephanie pressed on: "Then why did you marry her in the first place?"
After a moment of silence in the room, Julian’s nonchalant reply came.
"I married her because she is quiet and doesn't annoy me."
"So that's how it is."
Stephanie’s tone sounded like she had suddenly realized something, and she added with a low chuckle.
"I thought you married her because you genuinely liked her."
Julian didn't speak.
Clara froze outside the door, her fingertips moving away from the doorknob, and she turned around to walk back into the restroom.
She turned on the faucet, cupped a handful of water, and wiped the lipstick off her mouth in front of the mirror.
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Once, twice.
The red dissolved in the water and flowed through her fingers like diluted blood.
After wiping it clean, she looked at the person in the mirror with a plain white face.
The person in the mirror looked back at her with no expression.
It wasn't pain, it wasn't hatred.
It was an overly calm clarity.
She withdrew her gaze, turned, and walked out of the hotel.
Just as she was about to call a cab, a message from Julian popped up.
【Where are you?】
Clara swiped his message away directly and didn't reply.
For the first time in three years, she hadn't reported her whereabouts to Julian.
While waiting for the car, she suddenly remembered what Julian had said on their blind date—
"I am the gatekeeper of life, and you are the ferryman of death."
At the time, she thought it was the most romantic love confession in the world.
Now she finally understood: equal social status, compatible conditions—that was all it was.
She raised her hand and wiped the corner of her eye.
It was time for this solo performance she had directed and starred in for three years to come to an end.
Chapter 4
After returning home from the wedding banquet, Clara opened her laptop to draft a divorce agreement.
The cursor blinked on the first line of the document for ten minutes.
She typed the words "Divorce Agreement," then deleted them, typed them again, and deleted them again.
It wasn't regret; it was not knowing what to write.
They had no children, no shared assets; the house was bought by Julian before their marriage, and the car was in his name.
In three years of marriage, all the things she could take from this home could fit into two suitcases.
The sound of a key turning came from the door, and Clara closed the laptop.
Julian changed his shoes and walked into the living room, glancing at her.
"Why didn't you say anything when you got home?"
Clara didn't answer, but asked him back instead.
"You said today that I work at a hospital. Do you also think my job at the funeral home is shameful?"
Julian frowned: "It’s not shameful; it’s just unnecessary."
Clara tightened her fingers: "Do you think it’s unnecessary to mention, or are you afraid of people pointing fingers?"
Julian’s tone added a bit of impatience, and his brow furrowed deeper.
"What nonsense are you talking about? It was someone’s happy day; do you think it was appropriate to bring that up?"
Clara didn't respond.
Julian presumably realized his tone was harsh; after a moment of silence, his voice lowered when he spoke again.
"If you feel uncomfortable keeping it hidden, Stephanie’s department is short of nursing staff. You studied nursing in college, so it would be a perfect opportunity to try."
Julian spoke very seriously, as if he were discussing a surgical plan he had carefully considered.
"Nursing staff." Clara repeated the words, her voice very light.
Julian nodded: "Stephanie asked me if I knew anyone suitable, and you were the first person I thought of."
Listening to him, Clara suddenly couldn't distinguish whether he truly thought she was suited for this job, or if it was because her current profession embarrassed him.
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