Chapter 2

I returned home alone, put on my slippers, walked over to the bathroom, and used wet wipes to slowly clean off the dried mud stains on my pants.

I didn't even notice when the motion-sensor light flickered on and off. I only snapped out of it when the water spilled over the edge of the sink and dripped onto my foot. I slowly reached out to turn off the faucet.

I was always a bit slow on the uptake. I wasn't born like that, though. I was seven years old when Wendy had insisted on dragging me out into the rain for two hours just to catch frogs.

I had a high fever for the whole day, almost frying my brain. I eventually suffered from delayed reflexes and processing ever since that day.

Luna Chadwick, my sister, was so enraged that she wanted to beat Wendy up right there and then.

Wendy knelt beside my bed back then, tears streaming down her face. "You can hit me if you want to, Luna! I know it's all my fault! Please don't take Fabian away with you! I swear I'll make it up to him for the rest of my life, and I'll never let him suffer even a bit of hardship, Luna!"

I believed her, and Luna believed her, too. That was why Luna took over the overseas business operations, relocated abroad long-term, and left me with Wendy's family.

Wendy genuinely looked after me in the very beginning. I had longer hair back then, and when I finished washing my hair and struggled to hold the hair dryer, she'd always take it from me.

She'd run her fingers through my hair, keeping the temperature of the hair dryer just right, and say, "It doesn't matter if you're a bit slow, Fabian. I'll always have time to wait for you."

Wendy eventually ran out of patience.

Just a few days ago, after I finished washing my hair, water dripped onto the floor. She didn't fetch the hair dryer this time, opting to just throw a dry towel over to me. She scowled with a look of annoyance, something she probably didn't even realize herself.

"You're already 23 years old, Fabian—not three. Why don't you learn from Sawyer and become more independent? He carried a bucket of water up six flights of stairs by himself the other day and didn't even complain once.

"You can't keep relying on me forever. You should go live on your own for a while and learn how to take care of yourself."

I realized then that time would eventually wear away all patience and that the person who promised to dedicate the rest of her life to me now felt I was just in her way. It was the reason why I went apartment hunting today.

I dried my hands, walked to the couch in the living room, and sat down. I then took my camera out of my bag. It was one of the few things I could take with me, and it was also what I used for my work.

I scrolled through the camera and hit the playback button, the screen glowing softly as I looked through the photos one at a time. I was the one who had taken all the photos—the shot was well-framed, and the lighting was spot-on.

It was just that the subject of every photo was identical. Wendy and Sawyer were laughing in front of the cafe's floor-to-ceiling window. Wendy and Sawyer were sharing a toast by the campfire at the campsite. Sawyer was casually brushing away the stray hair in front of Wendy's eyes.

I noticed there were more than 300 photos on the camera, and I was the person who was always left behind the lens, never appearing in any of them. I never appeared in any of the photos, so naturally there was no place for me in her future either.

Wendy didn't return until late afternoon. She tossed her car keys onto the table by the door, the metal making a sharp clinking sound. "What are you even making a fuss about, Fabian?"

She walked up to me, her brow furrowed deeply. "Sawyer pulled strings through three different people and ran around for four afternoons just to pick out a place for you. What else could you possibly be unhappy with?

"How could you just walk away earlier? Do you realize how embarrassing that was for Sawyer?"

I stated slowly, "I have no issue with the place."

Wendy asked, "What's with the attitude if you don't have a problem with it? Sawyer practically ran himself ragged trying to help you. He felt so bad after you walked out like that that he spent the whole afternoon blaming himself and skipped his lunch entirely."

Wendy actually rushed home to confront me just because Sawyer skipped lunch.

I had acute gastroenteritis and was doubled over on the couch from the pain last month, but she only sent me a simple message. "You should just drink plenty of water. I'll be having dinner with a client tonight, so you should order your medicine through delivery yourself."

I pressed the delete button and erased every photo on the camera. I then said, "I just feel like he wasn't looking for a place for my sake."

Wendy scoffed. "You can't just assume the worst about people, Fabian. You think everyone is like you, staying shut inside all day making a fuss over nothing? I made a reservation for lunch tomorrow. You're going to apologize to him, and we'll put this behind us."

I stared at her for a couple of seconds, finding it incredulous that my own girlfriend was blaming me for not being considerate of another man's feelings. "Let's break up, Wendy."