Chapter 2

In that precise second, my heart turned cold.

As my final finger folded down, a sinister silence descended upon the room.

All eyes landed on me, waiting to see how I would react.

I merely offered a faint smile, picked up my glass with quiet resignation, and drained it in a single gulp.

“I lost.”

Unable to watch any longer, a friend jumped in to trying to fix things.

“Come on Lily, today is about Donovan and Celeste. This round doesn’t count. Let’s play again.”

“Yeah, let’s do another round.”

Lily arched an eyebrow at the friend, her voice wrapped in innocence.

“Why shouldn’t it count?”

She turned, clutching Donovan’s arm and cooing playfully.

“Donovan, tell them—didn’t I win?”

Donovan fondly pinched her nose.

“Fine, you won.

“The game was only played to make you happy anyway.

“Tell me, what request do you want?”

Lily directed a provocative glance at me.

“Don’t go home tonight. Watch sunrise with me.”

My hand holding the glass froze.

Tonight was our fifth anniversary.

He had promised that no matter how busy he was, he would always spend this day with me.

It was one of the rare promises over years that had made me feel I was still cared for.

Donovan knit his brows, caught in a slight dilemma.

“Can’t we do another day? I promised to spend the day with Celeste.”

“No!”

Lily refused with a pout, tugging at his arm.

“I won fair and square! You can’t back out now!”

Donovan’s brows tightened, his eyes shifting toward me with hesitation.

“Celeste...”

“Go with her.”

I stood up, finding myself far calmer than I had anticipated.

“A deal is a deal,” I said.

With that, not sparing him another glance, I turned to walk out of the room.

Behind me, the commotion continued. Lily was complaining about me to my boyfriend.

She said I was being a sore loser, throwing an inexplicable tantrum out of nowhere.

He told her to stop making a scene.

That was all coming from Donovan.

He did not chase after me, nor did he offer a single word of defense on my behalf.

A sudden laugh escaped me.

He must think I was being a sore loser, too.

What he did not realize was that I was not only done with this game.

I was done with him, too.

After leaving them, I went back to our apartment, where I intended to move out.

Pulling out my suitcase, I packed my documents, clothes, and jewelry piece by piece.

As I reached for another sweater, I noticed a pale pink jacket in the wardrobe.

It hung right beside Donovan’s clothes, looking like a matching set.

Yet I owned no such jacket.

Opening the adjacent door, I saw my clothes pressed tightly against the far side.

There was at least four inches of space between my garments and Donovan’s.

It looked as though two completely unrelated people shared the room.

Staring at the stark divide inside the wardrobe, I snapped a photo and sent it to Donovan.

“Where did this jacket come from?” I asked.

He replied after a short delay:

“Lily left it behind last time she came over for dinner.

“She wasn’t in a hurry to get it back, so I kept it there.

“It’s just a jacket. Don’t overthink it.”

The next message was a voice note from Lily.

“Celeste, don’t take it the wrong way.

“You were working late that day, and Donovan said you were tired from overtime, so he didn’t want to disturb you.

“Though the steak was divine—you should ask him to make it for you next time!”

It occurred to me that in our five years together, Donovan had never cooked a single meal for me.

Once, when I had a fever and was confined to bed, I had asked him for some homemade mushroom soup. He got me some takeout instead.

I sent back two words.

“Got it.”

Then I exited the chat.

A notification popped up in our mutual group chat, where someone asked:

“Did Donovan really go to watch sunrise with Lily?”