Chapter 3

I closed the email window and tried to refocus on the report in front of me.

My eyes landed on the binder clip holding the pages together, but no matter how hard I tried, my mind refused to settle.

Kaylee White…

I knew her.

Or rather, anyone who had known Keith back then knew her.

Kaylee was Keith’s ex.

They broke up ages ago, yet people still brought her up in passing conversations.

She had been my nightmare.

Everyone around us used to speculate how long it would take before Keith dumped me.

Now that Kaylee was back, they’d probably start wondering if Keith, the ever-so-proud man, would go running back to her.

But I was with him all this time, and Kaylee never returned.

Now, that strange equilibrium had been shattered.

…

I frowned.

It was lunchtime.

Normally, I would have messaged Keith to ask what he was eating.

It was our little habit—sharing bits of our day, something my best friend never failed to tease me about.

She couldn’t understand how, even with a wedding around the corner, we still acted like we were newly in love.

But after seeing those chat logs, I had no desire to send him so much as a punctuation mark.

I didn’t know what I was to him anymore.

Was I just an easy target? Someone gullible enough to keep falling for his tricks?

While he toyed with me, I had been loving him, wholeheartedly and without question.

The thought alone sent a dull ache through my chest, like something was being scraped raw.

Just then, my phone buzzed.

Keith sent me a photo.

Three dishes and a soup.

Then, his usual question: Have you eaten yet?

I stared at the image for two seconds.

Then, I deleted his contact.

…

"Aren’t you supposed to be getting your marriage license with Keith right now? What’s going on… was it because of that so-called lucky date your mom picked?"

I was sitting in a bar with my best friend.

Technically, the bar wasn’t even open in the middle of the afternoon, but since she owned the place, it didn’t really matter.

"I’m not getting married anymore." I poured myself a full glass and downed it in one go.

The burn of alcohol seared down my throat, and for a moment, my mind wavered.

"Whoa, look at you. Such a rebel."

Rebel? What did that even mean?

"I saw his old chat logs with his friends."

I stared at the ice cubes in my glass.

The bar’s lights weren’t fully on yet, just the soft glow from the counter reflecting off the amber liquid, rippling like melted gold.

"He never really cared about me, you know? He told his friends I was fun to mess with, that I was dumb and easy to please…

"He said even the smallest surprise could keep me happy for days. Remember that scarf I spent forever knitting? He never even wore it."

"He also…"

My throat caught.

I coughed, and my best friend reached over to pat my back.

"Oh, that? Honestly, wasn’t it obvious to everyone that he wasn’t good to you back then?"

Huh?

"Teresa, there’s one thing Keith got right. The old you was so starved for warmth that even the smallest bit was enough to make you endlessly grateful."

I was a lightweight, and the alcohol was already messing with my vision.

My best friend’s face blurred at the edges, but her eyes were clear and serious as they met mine.

"How many times did we tell you Keith wasn’t a good guy? You just never wanted to listen."

I was speechless.

"But, I’ll admit, over the past few years, I’ve actually been kind of thankful to him. The way he spoils you now is almost unbearable to watch.

“At least, he’s taught you how to have a bit of a temper.

"You used to be afraid of inconveniencing people. You didn’t even know how to say no.

"But think about it—could the old you have ever pulled off something like running away from your own wedding?

My brain was too foggy to process her words properly.

All I knew was that, for some reason, even in this quiet lounge, the world suddenly felt too loud.