Chapter 2

After scheduling the hospital appointment for the following day, I went straight home.

The moment I pushed the door open, I saw Javon standing outside my bedroom, staring fixedly inside.

Only when he noticed me did he calmly look away.

For a second, I thought the familiar surroundings had triggered something and brought back memories of our time here.

When I first moved to Jolmere after graduation to build a life for myself, all I could afford was a tiny room.

The day after Javon visited my 100-square-foot rented room and saw how I was living, he moved me out. He brought me to this place, personally arranging every gift he had ever given me around the apartment.

Back when we were together, Javon acted as if he wanted to give me the world.

It wasn't just money transfers or expensive presents. He made so many handmade gifts too—a scrapbook, a sketchpad, and a handwritten diary of our relationship.

Back then, I genuinely believed he loved me.

Looking back now, he only gave me those things because he had mistaken me for someone else.

My heart throbbed with a pain so severe it felt as if someone were violently pounding on it.

Javon had been staring at the second-anniversary gift he made for me. It was a glass bottle filled with colored sand he had layered by hand.

He told me the pair of swans inside represented our love. Our initials were written right beside them.

I used to wonder why Javon used initials instead of our names.

Now, I finally understood. The "A" could have stood for Abilene or Abbie.

Javon said, "I noticed I've been paying the rent here every year, so I came to check it out. This is the place I rented for Abbie."

His eyes swept over me again. "But why are you here?"

Abbie cut in with a rushed explanation, "Abilene didn't have a place to stay in the city, so I let her crash with me. I mean, the room was just sitting empty anyway. Right?"

She looked at me, pleading with her eyes for me to play along.

What Abbie said was true, except the roles were reversed.

When she first moved to Jolmere without enough money for rent, I was the one who took her in.

I had no desire to respond. I walked straight into my room and shut the door behind me.

Through the frame, a harsh, agitated voice carried inside. "Abbie, this is the kind of roommate you live with? You let her stay here for free, and she still gives you an attitude?"

Abbie's voice was soft as she tried to soothe him. "It's not like that. Abilene's probably just in a bad mood."

I couldn't make out what they said after that. I doubled over, barely managing to suppress the wave of nausea churning in my stomach.

As I bit my lip, a cold sweat broke out across my body.

In my dazed state, memories of how Javon and I first met came rushing back.

Shortly after we exchanged contact info, his parents died in an accident. During the period when Javon was at his most emotionally vulnerable, he would send 30 texts a minute, threatening to jump from the roof if I replied a second too late.

Every single day, I sent him encouraging messages and stayed up until 2:00 am to keep him company.

He once told me that if I hadn't pulled him back, he might not have held on.

Javon always called me his savior, saying he was only alive today because I was there for him. But the truth was, he saved me too.

After Mom got divorced and moved abroad, Dad blamed her passion for painting for abandoning our family. He destroyed all my prize-winning artwork and easel and even watched me constantly to make sure I never touched a paintbrush again.

Suffocated by the growing weight of it all, I was ready to leap into the river and end it when Javon's relentless messages distracted me.

It was his need for me that held onto my lifeline, giving me a reason to keep living.

I just never expected that those late-night conversations only happened because he had the wrong woman all along.