Chapter 3

I began packing.

When I opened the closet, I found that my clothes had been squeezed into one cramped corner.

Gene had promised he would move out as soon as possible, yet his down jackets alone took up four hangers.

I packed everything I owned into my suitcase.

At the very back of the bottom drawer in the nightstand, I found a framed photograph.

Abby had her arms around Gene. They were both beaming on a beach.

On the back of the photo was a line of handwriting.

[Twenty years with Gene.]

The photo was dated on the fifth anniversary of my relationship with Abby.

My hand trembled. The frame slipped from my grasp and crashed to the floor.

So, Abby and Gene had known each other all along. They had grown up together.

Gene had known her parents for years as well.

All that nonsense about him pretending to be her boyfriend had probably been unnecessary. Her parents already saw him as the man their daughter would marry.

I was the only fool in the story.

I laughed until tears streamed down my face. A shard of glass sliced into my finger and sent a sharp pain through my hand.

It brought me back to the worst day of my life.

I had spent more than six months planning to propose to Abby on our anniversary.

After spending two hours making sure every detail was perfect, I went to pick her up from work, only for one of her coworkers to tell me that she had never come in.

I had no idea where she was. I called her more than a dozen times, but she never answered.

Dazed and distracted, I stepped into the path of a speeding car.

When I woke up in the hospital, I learned that my injuries had left me unable to have children.

Abby stayed at my bedside for two days without sleeping. When I finally opened my eyes, she burst into tears and apologized over and over again.

“Tony, it’s going to be okay. We’ll find a way through this. We’ll have a family someday.”

I was so devastated by the thought that I might never have biological children that I never stopped to ask where she had been that day.

So, that was where she had gone. She had been celebrating her twentieth anniversary with Gene.

They had twenty years. I had five.

In those five years, how much of Abby’s time had ever truly belonged to me?

I cleaned up the mess on the floor and zipped up my suitcase.

Early the next morning, Abby came home carrying a box from my favorite bakery.

I loved their pastries, but the place was notorious for selling out almost immediately.

Abby must have gotten in line around 4 a.m. or 5 a.m. that morning.

For five years, bringing me one of those pastries whenever I was upset had been her unspoken way of calling a truce.

This time, however, I grabbed my suitcase and headed straight for the door.

Abby caught my arm. “Tony, where are you going?”

“Home,” I replied coldly.

“Besides this place, what other home do you have?”

Anger simmered beneath her voice. “I drove all the way across town and stood in line for over three hours to get these for you. Are you seriously going to keep this up?”

I looked at the pastry. It was covered in pepper flakes, the thing I hated most.

It was Gene’s favorite.

Then, I looked at her again. She looked as beautiful as ever, but her eyes were filled with nothing but impatience.

“Abby.” I hurled the photograph at her. “You’ve known Gene for twenty years. You grew up together. So, where does that leave me? Was making a fool of me this whole time fun for you?”

Her lips parted, but for a long moment, no words came out.

“Gene lost his parents when he was young. I’ve always looked after him like a little brother. I only kept our history from you because I was afraid you’d get the wrong idea.

“I was actually happy when you became friends. Tony, there’s really nothing going on between us…”

“Stop using me as your excuse.” I jerked my hand away when she tried to grab it. “Do you honestly think the way you two behave is normal? If he’s the one you want, just say so. I’ll walk away!”

Abby stared at me in disbelief, as though she were seeing me for the first time.

“Tony, how much longer are you going to keep this up?”

Her voice turned ice-cold. “This is all because you’re upset that I bought Gene a house, isn’t it? Fine. I’ll buy you one tomorrow—a bigger one. Will that finally make you happy?”

As I looked at her, I felt numbness spread through every part of me.

This was the woman who used to get out of bed in the middle of the night to make me something to eat just because I said I was hungry.

She had once driven me to the hospital through pouring rain.

This woman had once brought me homemade lunches whenever I was too busy with work to take care of myself.

The Abby who had once cared for me so tenderly had changed.

I said nothing more. I stepped around her and opened the door.

Abby did not come after me.

I leaned against the cold elevator wall and finally broke down.