Chapter 2

Christina didn't take the agreement.

The paper hung in midair.

The people who'd been cheering a moment ago went silent too, as if someone had them by the throat.

The only clear sound was Wes, head down, trying to pull off the ring.

He tried twice and couldn't get it off.

Christina stared at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it says."

"Luke, don't threaten me with a breakup."

Her voice was very low.

It was what she always did right before she lost her temper.

I used to dread it more than anything.

I was afraid she'd be disappointed, afraid of her cold face, afraid she'd say I wasn't mature enough. So every time we argued, I was the first to back down, even when I was the one who'd been wronged.

I said, "It's not a threat. It's a notice."

She snorted. "Your heart rate was out of control today. Any decision you make right now has no reference value. We'll talk once you've calmed down."

I set the agreement on the table. "I'm perfectly calm."

Christina looked at the monitor.

At some point, the red light had stopped.

My heart rate had dropped back to seventy-one. Even lower than Wes's during his demonstration.

Her expression finally soured.

Wes cleared his throat. "Luke, maybe the atmosphere just got to you. Major relationship decisions aren't advisable right after an emotional event."

I looked at the ring on his hand. "Oh? So you do know this is a major relationship?"

He froze.

I walked up to him and held out my hand. "Give me back my ring."

Wes looked troubled. "It's stuck."

Christina frowned. "It's just a ring. Let him keep it for now."

I looked at her.

For seven years, she'd called every single thing I cared about a fuss over nothing.

When I wanted to post photos of us together, she said adults didn't need social media to prove their feelings.

But when Wes posted a picture of two coffee cups, she liked it and commented, praising his steady composition.

When I was sick and wanted her to come to the hospital with me, she said she had to train my independence.

When Wes caught a cold, she could cancel a meeting to make him chicken soup herself.

On the anniversary of my father's death, I wanted her to go back to my hometown with me.

She said grief couldn't be offloaded onto a partner and that I had to close my own emotional loop.

Then she turned around and went with Wes to his mother's birthday party.

It wasn't that she didn't understand what it meant to be there for someone. She just didn't want to give that to me.

I pulled my hand back. "Fine. It's yours."

Wes was taken aback. "Luke, that's not what I meant."

"It's fine."

I tore the monitor patch off my chest.

The adhesive was stuck on so tight that it stung my skin as it came off.

Christina instinctively took half a step forward, then stopped. "You're acting very impulsively right now."

I put the monitor in her hand. "Then call it losing control. You've always wanted stability. Now you're free."

With that, I turned and walked out.

Christina called after me, "Luke, if you walk out that door today, the wedding gets postponed for at least six months."

My steps faltered.

In the past, that one line would've kept me up all night.

Postponed six months.

Then another six.

That was how seven years had dragged by.

I looked back at her. "No need to postpone it. Just cancel it."

Her expression finally cracked.

I didn't look back.

Just as I reached the elevator, my phone buzzed.

It was a message from Monica Dutton, the company director.

Monica: [We need a lead for the overseas project. You said you'd think about it. Still want to go?]

I pressed the elevator button.

When the doors opened, Christina came running after me.

She was still clutching the agreement, its corners crumpled in her grip. "Luke, how long are you going to keep this up?"

I lowered my head and replied to Monica: [I'll go.]

Christina saw the screen, and her face changed. "Where are you going?"

The elevator doors began to close.

I watched her reach out to block them.

My voice came out so level that even I was surprised. "Somewhere I don't have to pass a test to be loved."