Chapter 2

As soon as I got home, I received a message from Roxanne.

"I'm not coming back to the house tonight. Sam wants to see the light show at midnight on the beach, so I'm watching it with him."

At the same time, Samuel also posted on his social media.

"Who's the poor guy who doesn't have someone to go to the amusement park with? Who's the lonely sucker who doesn't get to watch the light show with a gorgeous chick by his side? Well, it's not me!"

He uploaded a photo of himself and Roxanne on a Ferris wheel, and another of their shadows forming a heart shape.

No matter how I looked at it, it was clear he was mocking me.

After all, I was the one who first suggested going to the amusement park with Roxanne today. I talked about wanting to see the light show at midnight on the beach.

Fueled by the booze, I tore up the love letters Roxanne once wrote to me, along with the photos we'd taken together over the years.

As I looked at the torn fragments now, memories of the past came back to me.

Roxanne and I had known each other since high school. She asked me out during our freshman year of college, and we'd been together ever since.

It'd been a whole nine years since we started dating in college. All of our friends called us the ideal couple.

But, on the very day I proposed to Roxanne, Samuel came back to the country. He claimed he just had his heart broken after a breakup, and Roxanne was the only person in his life who could make him feel loved.

He said he didn't think he could carry on living if she got married.

As a result, Roxanne rejected my proposal, saying that she needed to accompany Samuel while he recovered from his emotional trauma.

I thought it only meant a short postponement of our eventual marriage. I never expected Roxanne to start refusing to come to my house. More and more of her attention went to Samuel.

On my birthday, Samuel could summon her by simply saying that he missed her.

On our anniversary, she held a yacht party for him without saying a word to me.

Roxanne had never cooked a day in her life, but for his sake, she learned how to cook.

The only time Roxanne ever got angry at Samuel was when he put rat poison in my food. I'd ended up hospitalized in the ICU for an entire month.

That day, she promised me she would teach Samuel a lesson and keep her distance from him.

She went back on her word the very next day.

With an apologetic smile, she explained, "Sam was just kidding around. He didn't think it would be that serious. He cried his heart out last night and almost slit his wrists to take his own life. Since he's already apologized, let's just forget about it, okay?"

I should've known to cut my losses back then, but at the time, I remained hopeful. I genuinely believed that Roxanne would follow through on her promise to distance herself from him.

But now, after just six short months, Samuel had already taken everything that once belonged to me.

I burned the torn photos and letters. All the feelings I had for her disappeared along with them.

After contacting a real estate agent about selling the house, I spent the night alone on the couch.

When I woke up, I had a blanket over me. The living room wasn't as messy as it had been last night.

Roxanne came out of the kitchen with breakfast in her hands. "I made your favorite—blueberry pancakes."

I didn't eat them.

Roxanne continued, "Sam is sick. He suffers from depression, so that's why I had to take his side yesterday. Since you're not sick, you should be more patient and accepting toward him."

She made it sound like she'd just said the most reasonable thing in the world—like it was my duty to put up with such treatment.

"You forgot that I'm allergic to blueberries," I finally said.

Roxanne stiffened. Only then did she remember that blueberry pancakes were Samuel's favorite. She'd made it out of habit.

As it was, scenarios such as this had occurred many times before. She'd forgotten all about my preferences long ago, but she knew Samuel's favorites like the back of her hand.

"Sam isn't even allergic to it. Why are you so fussy and problematic?" Roxanne snapped impatiently. "Do whatever you want then. I don't care if you eat it or not."

She never would've acted this way in the past.

But now, all of her care and tenderness were reserved for Samuel and him alone. All I got was her anger and temper.

Why?

Because I wasn't suffering from mental health issues. I could take it.