Chapter 2

Gregory's POV

Winter came home from her so-called solo vacation three days later. At the dinner table, she handed me a tiny box and said it was a gift. I opened it and found a bookmark inside.

"Huh. Did you and Simon go to the same place?" Mrs. Andersen asked, leaning over to take a look. "He stopped by today, too. The gift he brought Gregory is the same as this one."

Winter's hand froze around her cutlery. For a brief moment, panic flashed across her eyes.

I, however, kept eating without looking up. "It's fine. I don't mind getting two of the same thing."

A cheap bookmark was still a cheap bookmark. Having one or two made no difference.

Winter stared at me, momentarily stunned.

Before she could say anything, Mrs. Andersen said, "You're right. I have to say, the three of you are tied together by fate. You'll be attending the same college, while you and Gregory will be in the same major—"

"Mom, Dad," Winter interrupted her. "I might switch majors after freshman year."

Those words felt like a stab in the heart. Future Winter had told me that whenever she mentioned switching majors, I would go silent and sulk for days.

"He'd pull a long face, and my parents would immediately start lecturing me and bringing up what happened back then." She had written. "So, for all four years of college, I was stuck with him, like some piece of gum I couldn't scrape off my shoe."

I suppressed the throbbing pain in my chest.

This time, though, I looked up with a smile and met Winter's eyes. "Sure. I think you should, too. After all, it's important to choose something you genuinely like."

The air went still. Mr. and Mrs. Andersen's words died in their throat. Winter didn't look nearly as pleased as I had imagined she would. Instead, her face darkened.

After dinner, she followed me into my room. "What did you mean by that at the table?"

I looked at her, perplexed. "I thought I was clear. If you don't like your major, you can switch anytime. I won't expect anything more than I should from you."

Winter frowned, her expression darkening further. "Gregory, you… What ticked you off this time?"

The old me would never have treated her with such propriety and distance, as if she were a stranger.

A trace of irritation flickered through her beautiful eyes. "If you've got something to say, just say it. Stop acting like a teenage girl and dancing around the issue. I'm not interested in your guessing game. Why can't you be more like Simon? He's straightforward and doesn't beat around the bush."

My fingernails dug into my palms so hard that I nearly broke the skin.

Simon's call came in right then, perfectly on cue. "Winter, I burned down the kitchen again! Can you come over and take a look? I swear there's something wrong with these ribs!"

His loud, obnoxious voice rang out from the phone. Without hesitation, Winter turned and walked out of my room. I stood there watching her back as she left, my mind drifting back to a week ago.

Last week, Mr. and Mrs. Andersen had been away on a business trip. I was cooking at home when a boning knife slipped and sliced my finger open. Blood spread across the cutting board.

At the time, I only wanted Winter to hand me a bandage. To that, she said, "Please. You're a grown-up now. Can't you act like an older brother for once? Do you really need me for something this small?"

In the end, I went to the nearby clinic alone with my hand still bleeding and got it bandaged. Winter never showed up. But with Simon, she only needed one call to drop everything for him.

I stood there quietly, lost in thought.

Ten minutes later, I saw Simon's post on his social media. "Sometimes, the most beautiful thing is right before your eyes."

The photo showed Winter standing in a kitchen, wearing an apron, her expression soft and gentle.

"Damn, Simon. Is that your girlfriend? Quick, spill the tea," one commented.

Simon quickly shut it down." The hell are you talking about? That's my bro's girl, dude. Don't talk shit."

I stared at his over-the-top denial and let out a bitter laugh. Then, I sent a message to Future Winter.

"If the person who clung to you had let go from the beginning and let you be with the person you loved, would you be happier now?"

This time, she didn't reply instantly. She stayed silent for so long that I thought she had gone offline.

Then, a message popped up.

"I don't know if I'd call it happiness, but at least I wouldn't feel so guilty. If things had been different, he probably would still be alive now."