Chapter 3

I moved into the company dorm for the time being.

A few quiet days passed.

Then, a week later, Mr. Grant sent me to the mall to pick up samples from a brand partner.

The mall was packed that weekend. As I cut through the clothing section, I caught a glimpse of two familiar figures out of the corner of my eye.

Serena and Ryan were standing in a bridal boutique.

I stopped short, meaning to steer clear. But Ryan had already looked up and spotted me, and he came jogging over.

"Tristan!"

He grabbed my arm and pulled me along.

"You got back from your trip and didn't even tell us? Come on, come look at the suit I picked out for you."

A row of suits hung on a rack. Ryan grabbed a white one and, without waiting for an answer, started steering me toward the fitting room.

"What do you think of this suit? It took me all morning to narrow it down to a few options."

The instant the silky fabric touched my skin, I yanked my hand back.

"I'm fine."

Ryan blinked, caught off guard for a second, then smiled and held the suit out again.

"Just try it on. Come on."

I'd had enough. I pulled my arm free, hard.

In the tug-of-war, Ryan's heel caught on a chair behind him, and he stumbled backward, slamming his side into the edge of a clothing rack.

He sucked in a sharp breath, and the suit slipped out of his hands onto the floor.

Serena's expression changed in an instant. She crossed the distance in two steps to steady him, then turned to me, her voice cold enough to draw blood.

"Tristan, what is wrong with you? Why would you push Ryan?"

I stood frozen, my hand still hanging in midair.

Ryan clutched his side, hissing through his teeth, and tugged at Serena's sleeve.

"It's fine, it's fine, I just lost my footing."

Serena didn't even look at him. Her eyes stayed locked on me.

"Tristan, you'd better apologize, and mean it. Ryan's been running around for your sake this whole time — does he owe you something? What's with the attitude?"

I looked at him and said quietly, "Did I ask him to help me? This is supposed to be my wedding—"

Ryan froze where he stood, staring at me, his lips trembling like he wanted to say something.

"Tristan..."

Serena glanced at him, clicked her tongue, and cut me off.

"Tristan, you don't know the first thing about any of this. If he hadn't stepped in to help, do you have any idea how much of a mess our wedding would be?

"Acting like this in front of us — are you trying to tell me you don't want to get married anymore?"

She looked at me, her gaze carrying the certainty of someone passing judgment.

In her mind, I supposed, I would always be the guy who bowed his head and admitted he was wrong.

I looked at the two of them.

At eighteen, we'd stacked our hands together and promised never to drift apart, not for the rest of our lives.

And at twenty-eight, I looked at the woman I'd once loved and the friend I'd once cherished, and finally, red-eyed and undone, let the tears fall.

Seeing me cry, Serena froze for a moment. She let go of Ryan and stepped toward me, reaching up to wipe away my tears.

"Tristan, I was just trying to scare you. Of course we're getting married, I—"

I took a step back.

"Serena, I'm not marrying you."

Her hand went rigid in midair, and her face turned pale with anger.

"Tristan, are you still a child? Don't you know which things you can say and which you can't?"

The corner of her mouth curled into something scornful, and she shook her head.

"There's a limit to how much of a tantrum you get to throw. Not marry me? You can't even cook for yourself without us, you take the subway going the wrong direction — who else but me and Ryan would be stupid enough to put up with you?"

I froze for a second, then let out a mocking laugh at myself.

There it was again. Same as always.

My thoughts, my feelings — to the two of them, it was all just kids playing house.

Never taken seriously. Not once.

Never mind.

I turned and walked away.

Behind me, Ryan's voice rang out, frantic.

"Serena, go after him! Why are you just standing there?"

Then I heard Serena's voice, unhurried, laced with impatience.

"Why would I chase him? Let him go. He'll come crawling back once he realizes he can't survive without us. Might as well let it teach him a lesson."