Chapter 2

He said Lina's legs were paralyzed.

He said she was severely depressed, so fragile that one wrong word could break her.

He said she had no one but him, so we needed to keep our relationship a secret for now.

He said he didn't love her anymore. That he was only taking care of her as a friend.

I believed him.

What I forgot was that two people tangled up in each other's lives for years could never really be just friends.

On the drive back, the silence inside the car was suffocating.

Sawyer spoke first. "I only played along earlier because I didn't want to upset her. Don't overthink it."

I watched the scenery blur past the window. "You don't need to explain."

After a brief silence, he pulled over and looked at me. "Are you mad?"

He leaned closer, using the same familiar gesture he always used to comfort me.

"The doctor said Lina's doing better. Once she's stable enough, I'll find the right time to tell her everything."

That line again.

Three years.

I'd heard it so many times I'd lost count.

By now, I understood.

It was never a promise.

Just something he said to calm me down and get through the moment.

"Okay."

His brows furrowed. "What's with you today?"

I knew he wasn't asking because he cared.

He just wasn't used to this.

Wasn't used to me not standing there with tears in my eyes.

Wasn't used to me not waiting for him to ruffle my hair and smooth things over like always.

I looked at him.

"Sawyer."

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to marry me?"

***

For a second, I held his gaze.

I saw hesitation.

I saw him pulling back.

But I didn't see even a trace of love.

My heart slowly sank.

Then his phone rang.

Lina.

The moment he saw her name, he straightened and answered.

His voice softened in a way it only ever did for her.

"Lina, what's wrong? Are you not feeling well?"

I couldn't hear what she said.

But his expression immediately tightened. "Okay. Don't move. I'll be right there. Don't be scared."

He hung up without looking at me.

"Lina fell. I need to go check on her. Just take a cab home."

As he spoke, he'd already unbuckled my seatbelt and pushed open my door.

A second later, the engine roared.

The taillights disappeared into the night.

Just like him.

Without a moment's hesitation.

I didn't know how long I walked.

By the time I got home, blisters had formed and burst across my feet.

Every step felt like walking on needles.

I pushed open the familiar door.

Warm yellow light spilled out.

This was the apartment Sawyer and I shared. The home I'd imagined countless times.

But he'd only bought it to keep me satisfied.

The beige couch.

The wooden dining table.

The wall covered in photos from our childhood.

A kindergarten picture of us holding hands. A high school photo of us standing shoulder to shoulder.

In every picture, he was ruffling my hair, smiling brightly.

Clean-cut.

Gentle.

But those memories were fading, just like the photos themselves.

The clearest picture on the wall was the one taken after we started dating.

Yet even in that photo, he stood stiffly beside me.

His smile looked forced.

His eyes held no warmth.

Ten years of secret love had wrapped around my youth like a vine, tightening until I could barely breathe.

Today, that vine finally withered away.

I don't know how much time passed before I heard the lock turn.

Sawyer was back.

Cold air clung to him. Exhaustion lingered in his eyes.

Then he noticed the raw, swollen blisters on my feet.

His gaze paused for the briefest second.