Chapter 3

On Saturday, I suggested we go back to that little restaurant near the college.

"It's been so long, so I've been craving it."

Lionel agreed right away.

The owner, Jerry Smith, still remembered us. The moment he saw us, he grinned and said, "You two lovebirds finally decided to come back!"

Lionel smiled too, pulling out a chair for me with practiced ease. He ordered all my favorite food—buffalo wings, mushroom salad, and cheesy fries. He even remembered that I didn't like onions.

He chatted with Jerry about the old days, recalling how I always used to love sitting by the window or how I'd get so nervous before exams that I could down two bowls of soup in one go.

Lionel said all this with a perfectly natural expression, as if nothing had really changed.

The whole time, I watched the ranking above his head. Lindsay stayed perfectly still in second place.

I laughed, kept the conversation going, and did everything I could to salvage the old days, piece by piece. But after an entire meal, I couldn't even manage to nudge myself back up in the ranking.

Halfway through the meal, Lionel's phone rang. He glanced at it and said, "I'm going to take this call."

Beyond the glass door, he stood with his back to me. One hand was tucked in his pocket, and his shoulders hung slack and relaxed.

At one point in the conversation, he looked down and smiled.

I knew that smile all too well. It was unguarded and carried a tenderness he only ever wore for someone close to his heart.

I looked down at the food on the table. They were all my favorites, but the steam was fading. And even though Lionel was just right outside the door, his heart had wandered much further away.

On the ranking, Lindsay was slowly closing in on first place.

When Lionel came back, he saw right away that my mood had shifted, so he immediately started making up for it. He put food on my plate, apologized in a low voice, and said something had come up with a client at the last minute.

Then, he looked at me and, as if afraid I wouldn't believe him, quickly added, "I've taken three days off for our anniversary next month. I'll take you to that island you've always wanted to visit."

The moment he said it, I instinctively checked the ranking.

My name had indeed floated up ever so slightly. Suddenly, it dawned on me that he was being good to me not because his love had returned, but out of guilt.

Three days off bought him a clear conscience. It was like an exquisite receipt that settled the bill for his betrayal.

I smiled and replied, "Okay."

Even I found my own smile unfamiliar.

Walking out of the restaurant, we passed a very young couple by the roadside. The young man was holding the young woman's hand, his smile bright. Above his head, the young woman beside him was in first place—clean and simple. In fact, there was no other name in sight.

The elderly couple at our residential complex gate were the same. The old man took his time helping his wife across the street; her name sat steadily in first place above his head, unchanged decade after decade.

I stood frozen for a moment, suddenly dazed.

So, this was what it felt like to be placed first.

I turned my head to look at Lionel.

He had his head down, replying to a message.

Mom was in first place, Lindsay in second, and I was in third.

I had never once been first in his heart.

After we got home, he went into the study, saying he still had work to deal with.

I sat alone in the living room with the lights off.

In the darkness, I finally made up my mind.

I was done waiting. I refused to be the person slipping further and further down his list.

I picked up my phone and scrolled through the company event photos Lindsay had posted, confirming the place she often went to at lunchtime.

It was that same cafe.