Chapter 2

When Lucas came home that night, my three suitcases were already packed.

I'd spent eight years slowly filling that apartment with pieces of my life.

It took me only two hours to pack it all away.

He walked over cautiously and reached for my hand, speaking in a tired, coaxing voice.

"Sophia, I'm sorry. Lillian's condition really is serious. I know you had a rough day. When her therapy ends next month, I'll tell her the truth and end things for good."

I jerked my hand away in disgust.

I rubbed my wrist until the skin turned red. Only then did the sick feeling fade.

My reaction clearly hurt him. His brows drew together.

"Sophia, enough. I'm trying to save someone's life. Does being called my girlfriend really matter more than that?"

He pulled out his phone and sent me $6,000 on the spot.

"That's for the damage and the fine. It's twice what you lost. And stop talking about breaking up. We've been together for eight years. Don't throw it all away over something this small."

I laughed. "So now that I've caught you, you're not even going to pretend you're working late anymore?"

Lucas frowned, genuinely confused. "Sophia, when did you become like this? We're talking about someone's life versus your hurt feelings. How can you not see which matters more?"

During my third year of college, my mother discovered my father's affair. Distraught, she lost control of her car on the way home and died in the crash.

Lucas had held me outside the morgue, repeating the same words over and over: "Sophia, you still have me."

Ever since then, I'd hated lies and betrayal more than anything else in a relationship.

For eight years, Lucas had stayed by my side without complaint.

He made me soup whenever I worked late. No matter how late I got home, he always left the living room light on for me. Every month, when my cramps started, he'd sit beside me and rub my stomach.

Once, I asked him what would happen if he ever stopped loving me.

He pulled me into his arms and promised that as long as he was alive, he'd never let me go.

Those little things had become everything I believed love was supposed to be.

But eight years later, Lucas was the one lying to me. The one betraying me.

I closed my eyes. I couldn't stand looking at his self-righteous face for another second.

When I said nothing, Lucas sighed.

His tone softened as he tried to coax me again. "Sophia, I never meant to hurt you. I'll end this as soon as I can. Just trust me. The wedding invitations are already printed. Lillian was never part of the plan. You're the only person I've ever wanted to marry."

The way he said it, as if he were making some noble sacrifice for me, made my stomach turn.

I grabbed the glass from the table and hurled it at his feet. "Lucas, you make me sick!"

It shattered, and a shard sliced his ankle.

That finally made him snap.

Lucas looked down at the blood, his voice turning cold. "That's enough, Sophia. I've told you she's ill. Why can't you show a little understanding?"

His phone rang before I could answer.

The moment he saw Lillian's name, all the anger disappeared from his face.

He stepped onto the balcony and spoke softly as he comforted her. I heard him promise to take her out on a boat the next day to help her clear her head.

That patience and tenderness used to belong to me.

Now I couldn't even remember the last time he'd made it through an entire dinner with me. There was always some difficult client who needed him.

After he hung up, he told me to calm down. Then he walked out and slammed the door behind him.

The moment the door shut, my phone buzzed. The movers were downstairs.

After they carried out the last box, I stood in the empty apartment and looked around one last time.

Then I noticed the matching aprons hanging in the kitchen.

Working in a bakery meant I always got flour, cream, or chocolate on my clothes.

So Lucas had designed the aprons himself and had our initials embroidered on them.

Back then, he'd promised to be my kitchen helper for the rest of his life.

Now that promise meant nothing.