Chapter 1

Ryan's POV

I exited the video call, my fingers trembling as I opened my chat history with Vivian.

I scrolled up, only to find that the entire conversation was one-sided.

I had sent her pictures of sunsets, cafeteria food, or a stray cat curled up on the sidewalk.

But her replies were few and far between.

Sometimes, hours or days would pass before I got a one-word response. Other times, she would send nothing but an emoji.

I closed our chat and opened her social media profile.

Her cover photo was different. It used to be a picture of us taken on New Year's Eve.

Now, it had been replaced by a group photo from an award ceremony.

Sam was standing on her right side, their heads leaning slightly toward each other like two close partners.

My eyes suddenly burned. I blinked hard to fight the tears, but one escaped and slid down my cheek.

Just as I was about to lock my phone, a message from Sam appeared at the top of my screen.

"Ryan, I've been meaning to tell you this for a while. If you really care about Vivian, maybe you should ease up on sending her so many little updates.

"She studies until midnight every day, and whenever her phone buzzes, she can't help but check it. After that, it takes her another ten minutes to refocus.

"Those pictures of cats, dogs, and your meals… they don't really mean anything to her. She doesn't want to reply, but she feels bad leaving you on read, so she ends up stressing over it. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is for her?

"Her target grad schools have such high standards, and the gap between your grades is huge. Do you have any idea how much pressure that puts on her?"

I stared at the screen. Every word felt like a needle piercing my heart.

I typed out a reply, but in the end, only one sentence was sent. "Does she... know you're texting me all this?"

His reply came almost instantly.

"Of course she does. She said you keep sending her stuff that doesn't matter, but she didn't tell you because she was worried about hurting your feelings. So she asked me to tell you instead."

I stared at the words "she asked me to tell you instead" and felt a lump in my throat.

Then Sam sent another message.

"By the way, she asked me to tell you not to call her during study hours anymore. If you have anything to say, just text her. She'll read it, but she might not reply. I hope you can understand."

Driven by a strange impulse, I clicked on Sam's social media profile.

His latest post was from yesterday, with a photo taken at a barbecue restaurant.

Vivian was sitting across from him, putting a slice of beef on his plate.

The caption read, "Weekend reset with a genius."

I scrolled further back.

Last week, they had gone hiking together, posing with peace signs at the top of a mountain.

Before that, there were photos under cherry blossom trees, in late-night study rooms, and at a newly opened arcade.

She was in every single one of them.

Vivian always told me that she was too busy studying and didn't have time. But the truth was, she had time. She just chose to spend it with someone else.

I had actually called her to tell her that I'd been accepted to a graduate program in her city. Finally, we wouldn't have to be separated by distance anymore.

But now, I couldn't get those words out. My chest felt heavy with a pain that wouldn't go away.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before I typed, "Let's break up."