Chapter 1

"Joanie, are you working overtime again this weekend?"

On the phone, Joanie Halter sounded a little impatient. "Yeah. We're at a critical stage in a cross-border M&A deal. I can't get away."

In the background, I clearly heard an airport announcement. "Attention passengers traveling to Bernum…"

I looked down at the lease transfer agreement I had just signed, my voice calm. "An M&A deal in Bernum?"

There was a brief pause on the other end. "Uh, yeah. The other party is in Bernum. I have to go. I'm boarding now."

She hung up.

I put my phone away, folded the agreement, and slipped it into my bag.

The agent looked at me hesitantly. "Mr. Baker, your fiancee spent a fortune renovating this place when you moved in. Are you really sure you want to sublet it?"

"Yeah. I'm sure."

"Is she aware?"

"No reason to be."

I walked out of the agency. The early winter wind hit my face like a slap.

When I got home, I pushed the door open.

Lying on the couch was Joanie's shirt from last night. I picked it up, intending to toss it into the hamper, but I caught a faint scent of pine on the collar.

It was Forrest Jacobsen's favorite scent.

I didn't put the shirt in the hamper. I threw it straight into the trash instead. Then I walked over to the TV stand and woke the smart speaker.

"Play yesterday's cloud recording."

In case of a break-in, I had installed a voice-activated security camera in the living room to keep an eye on the place. Joanie had always thought it was pointless and never paid it any attention.

Her voice came through the speaker, gentler than I had heard it in a long time.

"Hey, Forrie. Is the heater in your apartment broken? I'll book a flight over right now."

"Oh, you don't have to, Joanie. It's too much hassle," Forrest said, his voice bright and clear, with a hint of childish sweetness that came through even from thousands of miles away.

"It's no trouble. You're all alone abroad. I can't help but worry about you."

The recording ended. I looked at the clock on the wall.

Yesterday at 3:00 pm, Joanie told me she had a company team-building event that night and couldn't have dinner with me. At 8:00 pm, I ran into her at the convenience store downstairs from her office.

She had a hot dog, checked her watch three times, and told me she had a meeting to get to. Maybe the agenda for that meeting was called "Forrest's Heater".

I went into the bedroom and pulled the suitcase out from under the bed. Then I started packing. I didn't have much. My clothes barely filled half the suitcase.

When I opened the bedside drawer, I found my passport inside.

Last winter, Joanie told me that once things settled down at work, she would take me to Soukaido to see the snow. I got my passport ready ahead of time, but ended up waiting for a whole year.

There wasn't a single visa stamp in it. Meanwhile, she had to get new pages added to hers almost every month.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a notification. Forrest had posted a photo online, showing two hot lattes, cups touching, at a cafe on a street in Bernum.

In the background was Joanie's hand, her watch clearly visible on her wrist. I had spent six months pinching pennies to buy her that watch for her birthday.

He captioned it, "So grateful for Joanie coming all this way to keep me warm. With her here, winter feels warm."

His text message came right after. "Hey, Tom. You're not going to get jealous if I borrow Joanie for two days, right? We're basically siblings. We grew up sharing everything."

So much for siblings, the kind who crossed 5,000 miles every weekend just to see each other.

I typed on the keyboard. "I'm fine. Just make sure she pays for the heating repair. Her supplementary card is almost maxed out."

I sent it. The chat showed that Forrest was typing for a long time, but no message ever came. I tossed my phone onto the bed and went back to packing.

At the bottom of the closet was an elegant gift box. Inside was a custom-made dress I had bought for Joanie last month. I had planned to give it to her at her promotion party next month.

Now, it seemed I wouldn't be needing it anymore. I took the box out and tossed it into the recycling bin outside along with the shirt that still carried that faint pine scent.

Once I was done packing, I sat alone in the empty living room. My eyes fell on the matching mugs on the coffee table. Mine was blue. Hers was pink. A tiny "F" was engraved on the bottom of her mug.

She had told me the manufacturer had engraved the wrong letter, and I believed her for five years.

I picked up the pink mug, walked into the kitchen, and let go. The ceramic shattered against the floor, a loud crash echoing through the apartment.

I then pulled out my phone and booked a one-way ticket to Northchime three days from now. That period would be enough to finish my handover at work and watch Joanie put on one last show.

Before I could even put down my phone, my buddy, Sam Riverson, called.

"Hey, Tom. Did you seriously quit your job?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Are you nuts? It took you three years to work your way up to that supervisor position. You're throwing it all away for that bitch, Joanie? Is she even worth it?"

"I didn't do it for her. I did it for myself."

"Where are you going next?"

"Northchime."

A few seconds of silence settled over the line.

"Does she know?"

"No, and she doesn't have to."

"So, after five years together, this is how it ends?"

"What else am I supposed to do? Stay here and watch her fly to Bernum every weekend to play saint for him?"

Sam sighed. "I saw that picture he posted just now. What a fucking attention seeker. Is Joanie blind?"

"She's not. She just likes to play favorites."

"When are you leaving?"

"In three days."

"Fine. I'll see you off at the airport then. Remember, don't look back."

"Don't worry. I won't."

After hanging up, I wheeled my suitcase into the corner. Then I looked around the home I had furnished with my own hands.

I had picked out the curtains, the couch covers, and even measured the floors inch by inch before buying the rugs.

Joanie always said she was too busy with work, so she left all these little things to me. I thought it meant she trusted me, but only later did I realize it meant she didn't care enough to bother.

She had never really considered this place home. Her home was probably that apartment 5,000 miles away.

I walked out onto the balcony and lit a cigarette. Below me, the city carried on as usual, cars and people flowing through the streets.

Just another three days. The countdown had begun.

Just then, a text from Joanie came.

"Hey, Tommy. I just landed. It's a little cold here. Make sure you dress warm back home, too."

I looked at the screen and smiled. "Alright. You too."