Secret Love, Public Betrayal

I made up an excuse to take my leave. My old professor, Elaine Harding, took my hand and smiled as she reminded me to arrive earlier tomorrow.

"Ruby has waited years for this happy occasion, and Henry has finally made up his mind. You and Ruby are best friends, so you should be there for her tomorrow."

My fingers went numb, but I nodded. It wasn't until the door closed behind me that I lowered my head and looked at my phone. The screen was still showing the message Henry Upton had sent me that morning.

"Darling, once the awards ceremony is over tomorrow, I'll make our relationship public."

I stared at it for a long time. Out of nowhere, my eyes suddenly began to ache. So when he said he was going public with his relationship, he hadn't meant his relationship with me.

As I headed downstairs, messages from Henry started popping up one after the other.

"Why did you suddenly leave?

"It's not what you think.

"I'll come home tonight and explain everything."

I didn't respond to any of them.

When I got back to the apartment, the lights came on, but I stood by the door for a long time. The living room looked as familiar as ever. My house slippers were right by the shoe cabinet. My usual throw blanket was draped over the couch, and the mug I had bought two days ago was still in the kitchen.

It was clear from the setup that two people stayed in this apartment. However, whenever someone came over, I had to hide every single item that belonged to me. My shoes and slippers were tucked into the shoe cabinet. My skincare products were thrown into a drawer, and my clothes that were hung out on the balcony had to be taken down right away.

As for me, I had to stay inside the bedroom and couldn't even come out for water if I got thirsty.

Once, a friend of Henry's sat in the living room and teasingly remarked that the apartment seemed too tidy to be a bachelor pad.

Henry's response came through the bedroom door. I heard him say nonchalantly, "A cleaner takes care of it."

That day, I stood like a statue right behind the bedroom door and stayed there for a very long time. Later, Henry held me in his arms and coaxed me, saying he had only blurted it out without thinking and that I shouldn't read too much into it.

But I had been listening to those words he'd tossed around "without thinking" for five years.

For the past five years, he had celebrated my birthday with me, spent holidays with me, and even brought me hot soup in the middle of the night.

However, we couldn't go anywhere where people who knew us might see us together. I couldn't meet his friends or professors. I was forbidden from making my presence known.

Every time I asked Henry how much longer I had to wait like this, he would kiss my forehead and murmur, "It won't be much longer now."

For what felt like ages, I'd believed him.

I believed him so much that I had even put off accepting an offer from an overseas research institute for half a month. I should've accepted the offer long ago. I wouldn't have left it until now if I hadn't been waiting for him.

I took the offer letter out of the drawer and laid it flat on the table. I had just picked up a pen when the door opened.

Henry was back. He had clearly rushed home. He made quick work of approaching me and reached out to pull me into his arms, but I avoided him.

As his hands hung in midair, he said in a low voice, "Natasha, let me explain."

I looked at him without saying a single word.

It seemed as though he'd already rehearsed his excuses on the way over. Keeping his breathing even and controlled, he said, "About what's happening tomorrow, it's not what you think. The proposal was just a temporary arrangement. I was going to tell you about it tonight."

I snorted. "And if I hadn't seen it for myself today, when were you going to tell me, exactly?"

Henry frowned. "I would've told you about it."

"When?" I repeated, my eyes fixed on him. "While putting the ring on her finger?"

His expression turned a little ugly. "Stop reacting like this, Natasha."

"How should I be reacting, then?" I retorted, my voice quiet and my chest tight. "Am I supposed to be the thoughtful, considerate one now? Am I supposed to tell you that it's fine? That you can go ahead and propose to another woman. Go ahead and do whatever you need to keep up appearances. Then once it's all over, you can come back and appease me with a few empty words?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Henry insisted.

He reached for my hand, but I took a step back.

"Then answer me this, Henry—if Ruby's the one who's going to be standing in front of you when you propose tomorrow, what does that make me?"

Henry didn't answer.

A heavy silence fell over the living room. As I stared at the man before me, his face suddenly felt entirely foreign.