Chapter 3

Kenneth didn't get angry.

He looked genuinely stunned, as if he'd never imagined I could be the one to walk away.

My defiance got under his skin, and he scoffed, "You have nothing going for you. What makes you think you can end everything like that?"

A moment later, he let out a mocking laugh. "Are you trying to play hard-to-get now? Nice try, but that isn't going to work on me."

He slipped on his coat, straightened his cuffs, and gave me a cold look from the corner of his eye. "Berta isn't just some random woman. I expect you to show her some basic respect and courtesy. Grow up and stop acting like a child every time you're upset."

I stared at him, almost unable to believe what I was hearing.

I was his girlfriend, and Berta was the woman he'd been getting closer and closer to right under my nose. So, why was I the one expected to treat her with respect and courtesy?

But instead of retorting, I just stayed quiet. He nodded, thinking I had finally backed down.

"I've got dinner with some clients tonight. Don't wait up."

He sounded casual, but the meaning was obvious. He might not come home tonight at all, but I didn't bother asking who he'd be spending the night with.

"I'm moving out today," I said quietly.

But those words were swallowed by the slam of the front door. I stood there staring at it for a long time, feeling as though that door had slammed straight into my chest, crushing something inside me until every breath hurt.

Maybe I'd become softer with age. When my mother died, I hadn't cried once. Yet now, tears were streaming down my face.

I steadied myself against the dining table, forced myself upright, and swept the untouched food into the trash.

Berta's messages started coming in. One photo after another filled my screen, displaying pastries in different shapes, like bunnies, ponies, and tortoises. There was even a pink Hello Kitty.

I was stunned.

Berta: [Kenneth is incredible! He even took time off work to come over and make these for me. You must have taught him so well!

[You plant the tree, and I enjoy the shade. I'll remember all the hard work you put into him. Once Kenneth and I make things official, I'll be sure to thank you, the ex-girlfriend!]

It was so obviously meant to provoke me that for a moment, I wanted to fire back with every nasty thing I could think of.

My fingers flew across the screen, but I never hit send, shaking too badly.

Memories of Kenneth came flooding back like a tide.

"Hannah, doesn't this bunny look just like you?"

"You cry so easily. You really are such a timid bunny!"

"This kitten is adorable, just like you! Would you like a pony for your birthday?"

Years ago, Kenneth had spent weeks teaching himself how to bake just to make me happy. He burned his fingers, ruined batch after batch, and kept at it until he could finally make them just right.

Now he was using those same hands and that same skill to spoil another woman.

For me, he bought coffee and pastries on the way home. For her, he spent hours making pastries by hand. One took almost no effort. The other took time, patience, and genuine devotion.

No wonder he'd insisted that I treat Berta with respect. He loved her that much.

Thinking back, even when Kenneth and I first got together, he'd never once asked his friends to go out of their way for me the way he expected me to accommodate Berta now.

My fingernail caught on a groove in the wooden table and snapped. A thin line of blood welled up from beneath it, but I barely felt the pain.

The room seemed to sway beneath the bright overhead lights. I unlocked my phone and called my supervisor, telling him that I wanted to quit.

He sounded surprised. "Are you getting married?"

Everyone at the office knew about my ten-year relationship with Kenneth.

I hesitated. "No. We broke up."

There was a brief silence.

My supervisor didn't ask any more questions. He simply said, "Well, if you ever want to come back, you know where to find us."

Kenneth had been right about one thing. Anyone could do my job.

I handed over everything in less than an hour, with one simple checklist covering the whole transition. What he didn't understand was why I'd chosen such a low-pressure job in the first place.

It was simply because he had once curled up on the floor, clutching his stomach and writhing in pain. "Hannah, my stomach hurts so much..."

That was all it took. I'd chosen a job with regular hours and no overtime, so I could always be home when he walked through the door, with hot soup waiting for him.

His stomach didn't act up anymore, and he started calling me a useless nobody.

I dragged my suitcase out of the closet. When I unzipped it, several small packages tumbled out onto my feet. The moment I saw what they were, I felt every bit of warmth leave my body.

I stood there for a long time before bending down to pick one up. My fingers trembled as I read the label in a whisper, "Strawberry Flavor—drives you wild."

I took a picture and sent it straight to Kenneth.

[Is she really that irresistible? Did you have to flaunt your affair right under my nose?]