Chapter 2

The next day, it started raining heavily after work.

As I stood at the office entrance, I realized I had forgotten my umbrella.

I was debating whether to wait or run out and get a cab when a black sedan pulled up. It was Enzo's car.

I took a step forward without thinking, but before I could get close, Megan had already opened the passenger door and gotten in. She moved as though she had done it plenty of times before.

I stood just out of the rain, watching her look down to fasten her seat belt, and Enzo turned to speak to her. They seemed so familiar with each other and so at ease.

Then, he looked up at me. "People from work are right behind you. We shouldn't leave together."

I froze on the spot. Megan and I shared the same apartment used for staff quarters. We were going to the same place, yet he drove her home and left me behind once again.

Again, it was because he did not want anyone to suspect we were together.

The car drove off. I watched as its taillights disappeared into the rain and suddenly felt so very, very cold.

Later, I ran out into the rain alone and stood by the road trying to hail a cab. My hair was completely drenched and my shoes were fully soaked.

When I finally hailed a cab, my clothes were still dripping, and the driver handed me a pack of tissues. I thanked him quietly and turned toward the window.

The glass grew foggier, and I wiped a small patch clear, my fingers numb with cold. For those few seconds by the entrance, I had actually thought Enzo would let me get in his car.

The apartment was empty when I got back. I changed out of my wet clothes and sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, staring into nothing in particular. My phone remained silent. No one asked if I had gotten a cab or if I was soaked.

It was nearly eleven when Megan came back, carrying iced tea. She started explaining as soon as she walked in. "You're still up? He was just going to drop me off, but then I thought, why not take one last look at the city before I leave? It looked so pretty in the rain, so we drove around for a bit."

She held out a cup with a smile and said she had brought one for me too.

I did not take it. Instead, I opened her social media page.

Her newest post was right at the top. It showed rain streaking the car window, a blurred view of the city at night, and a photo of a hand on the steering wheel, taken from the passenger seat.

I recognized that hand.

The caption was one line: [We're saying goodbye to this city.]

I stared at the post, a painful tightness in my chest.

I was the one who was saying goodbye.

While I stood soaked and miserable in the rain trying to get a cab, they had been driving through that same rain, admiring the city lights and taking pictures to remember it.

I turned off my screen and said nothing after that.

That night, I caught a fever. I felt cold all over, but my forehead burned. I kept waking up throughout the night.

The next morning, I forced myself to text Enzo: [I've got a fever. Can I take half a day off?]

He replied right away: [There's a big meeting today. Megan has a sore throat and can't present. Take some medicine and push through it for now.]

I stared at the words "push through it" and could not help but smile mockingly at myself.

So, I went to work anyway.

As soon as I sat down, Megan came over and said I looked awful. She said she had medicine in her bag and that I should take a pill. I was so dizzy that I did not think twice. I accepted the pill and swallowed it.

Halfway through the meeting, I realized something was wrong. My eyelids kept growing heavier, and I felt lost in a fog. My head felt sluggish, and I could barely make out what the speaker was saying.

I knew I could not collapse. No one would remember why I could not keep going at a meeting like this. They would only remember how I had messed up.

But in the end, I could not stay on my feet.

When it was my turn to stand and add to the presentation, I braced a hand against the edge of the table and started to stand. Everything suddenly went black, and I lost control, toppling sideways.

That direction was where Enzo was.

I was not trying to make him catch me. I simply had no strength left and had instinctively leaned toward someone nearby.

Then, I saw him step back. It was just one small step, but it was already enough to let me fall. My forehead struck the table corner, and pain flashed white behind my eyes.

The conference room went silent. Even the sound of rustling papers stopped.

I braced myself against the floor, my ears ringing, but I could still make out the shoes closest to me.

He had not caught me. He had moved away.

Instincts could not lie. The way he reacted without thinking had revealed how he truly felt.