Chapter 2

"I need to use the restroom."

I blinked hard against the tears gathering in my eyes and forced the words out evenly before hurrying away.

Once inside, I braced both hands on the sink and struggled to catch my breath. When I finally looked up, the woman in the mirror had dark circles under her eyes and several fresh breakouts across her face.

I'd barely slept these past few days, trying to make sure everything for the wedding went smoothly.

Now I wasn't even sure what any of it was for.

It took me a long time to pull myself together. When I finally stepped back into the hall, I noticed the private room door hadn't closed all the way.

Jason's voice drifted through the gap.

"Sarah was barely holding it together when she ran out. Her eyes were red. Aren't you going to go after her?"

Yves sounded completely unconcerned.

"What's there to talk about? I've already forgotten why she's upset."

Jason sighed. "You've been together all these years, and you couldn't even get her name right. Of course that hurt."

Yves frowned, irritation showing in every line of his face.

"If I have to comfort her over something this small, that's exhausting."

As he spoke, he gently pushed a plate of peeled grapes toward Xenia.

Xenia immediately agreed. "Exactly. I'd never get hung up on something like that.

"Isn't being together supposed to mean doing whatever makes you happy?"

My fingers curled at my sides.

For a moment, I could barely breathe. Acid churned in my stomach.

Yves hadn't always been like this.

His memory problems used to be even worse than they were now. Even so, every morning, he would patiently ask who I was, then tell me over and over that he loved me.

Whenever I was upset, he would apologize a hundred and one times if that was what it took to make me feel better, even if he'd already said the same words countless times before.

He just didn't want to anymore.

I slowly closed my eyes, turned around, and left.

When I got home, I dropped my bag on the entryway table.

Beside it sat the mugs Xenia had brought over yesterday.

There had been one matching pair meant for a couple, plus a free extra.

Without either of them needing to say a word, Yves and Xenia had taken the matching pair and left the free one for me.

It wasn't the only time something like that had happened.

I'd wanted static-cling wedding decals for the windows, but Xenia said they wouldn't stay up, so Yves told me to change them.

Then there was the large wedding photo we were supposed to display at the entrance. I'd spent days choosing one, only for Xenia to say she didn't like it.

That was enough for Yves to reject it.

He went with the photo she picked instead, even though I took up less than one-sixth of the frame.

Somewhere along the way, Xenia had quietly worked her way into every corner of my life.

I let out a slow breath and began sorting through the wedding supplies I could still return.

As I peeled the last wedding decoration from the cabinet, I accidentally knocked down a thick notebook.

I picked it up and opened it.

Page after page was filled with details about Xenia.

Ninety-nine pages in all.

Even his friends and family each had more than a dozen pages devoted to them.

As for me?

I was on the very last page.

Just one lonely name.

A faint smile tugged at my lips as exhaustion rose inside me like floodwater.

No wonder he couldn't remember me.

I was the least important page in his entire life.

I'd barely set the notebook down when my phone vibrated sharply.

I opened it without thinking.

Xenia had posted something a few minutes earlier.

[Love being taken care of like this.]

The photo showed Yves's phone screen, packed with alarms.

[7:30 AM - Xenia wakes up]

[8:00 AM - Remind Xenia to eat breakfast and drink water]

...

The reminders continued all the way to ten at night.

[10:00 PM - Remind Xenia to go to bed]

My fingertip rested against the screen, pale under the cold glow.

It felt as if my heart were being peeled open layer by layer. The pain was unbearable, yet there wasn't a drop of blood.

Then I remembered something from years ago.

I'd had kidney stones and needed to go to the hospital every day. I'd asked Yves to pick me up at night, but he kept forgetting.

The meals I told him I was craving wouldn't show up on our table even two weeks later.

He forgot those too.

Except now I understood.

The truth was, he simply didn't want to go to that much trouble for me.

I pressed a hand to the dull ache in my chest, my whole body heavy and weak, as if I were submerged underwater.

My fingers trembled slightly as I calmly tapped Like beneath Xenia's post.

Then I closed the app, opened a travel booking site, and scrolled through the list of destinations.

My eyes finally stopped on Yelmont.

I bought the ticket.