Tonight, I End a Four-Year Illusion

The residential complex where my best friend, Jessica Nielsen, lived didn't allow visitor vehicles to stay overnight.

Without even glancing at the registration form, Xavier Hillard wrote down her building and unit number from memory.

Jessica didn't get out of the car. Instead, she clutched the grill pan and complained softly, "Xavier, the light in my living room seems to be broken.

"The property management said they can't come fix it until tomorrow. I'm a little scared to be alone."

Xavier unbuckled his seatbelt. "I'll go up and take a look."

It was only when he put his hand on the door handle that he finally looked at me through the rearview mirror.

"Wait here for me. Ten minutes at most," he said.

The heater in the car was turned up high, yet before Xavier got out, he still tossed his scarf onto my lap.

"Don't open the window. You get a headache whenever the cold wind blows on you."

Xavier was always like this. He remembered every one of my habits, yet he could still leave me behind in the car and walk away to care for another woman.

Every time I thought he cared about me, Jessica would remind me otherwise that his thoughtfulness wasn't reserved only for me.

Ten minutes passed, and the light upstairs still hadn't come on. Xavier hadn't come back down either.

Just as I lowered my head to continue checking the flight details to Londwick, the door on the driver's side opened.

Xavier did not explain his delay. He simply pressed a cup of hot chocolate into my hands. "I bought it downstairs. There's no sugar in it."

The lid had already been opened for me, and the drink was warmed to just the way I liked it.

I stared at the ticket booking page on my phone but didn't reach for it. I also made no move to take the cup from Xavier, leaving him hanging.

Xavier waited a few seconds, then turned his head to look at me, asking, "What are you doing that's got you so engrossed?"

Only then did I snap back to my senses, hurriedly locked my phone, and took the cup. "It's nothing. Just a work email."

Xavier narrowed his eyes slightly as his gaze landed on my right hand clenched around my phone.

"Liar."

He had said the word softly, but it immediately weighed heavily on the silence inside the car.

Xavier stretched his hand back, his palm facing up. "Give me your phone."

He knew me best. When I was nervous, my right hand would unconsciously rub the edge of my phone.

Seeing that I didn't move, he was about to lean over when the front passenger door was suddenly opened.

Jessica got back in the car again, her nose flushed red from the cold. "Xavier, the power went out at my place, and the medicine in the fridge needs to stay refrigerated."

Only after saying that did she turn to look at me.

"Wen, can I stay at your place for the night?" she asked, reaching out and hooking her pinky around mine.

Back in college, whenever Jessica wanted to sleep over at my place, she would do the same thing. She would link our pinkies and sway our hands gently while waiting for me to agree.

But this time, before I could even say anything, Xavier had already turned on the seat warmer for her and said, "It's just a room. There's no need to ask her."

My grip tightened around the hot chocolate, crushing the sides of the cup inward.

It turned out that, in our own home, I was the outsider who had no right to make decisions.

Finally, Xavier turned to look at me. "Let Jessica have the guest room next to the master bedroom. She's a light sleeper, so don't use the hairdryer tonight."

"She can't use that room," I responded.

When we moved into our current house, Xavier had personally replaced the lock on that guest room door. That was because that room contained all the belongings my father had left behind.

At the time, Xavier had placed the only key in my hand and said that no one was allowed to enter.

But in this moment, his expression turned cold, and his brows drew together in displeasure.

Seeing this, Jessica hung her head, her eyes teary as she said softly, "Forget it. I'll stay at a hotel. Wen doesn't like anyone touching the belongings of the late Mr. Jones. I understand."

The more considerate she appeared, the more unreasonable I seemed.

And so, Xavier started the car, his expression cold, and said, "Jessica isn't just anyone."

After a brief pause, he looked at me through the rearview mirror. "Wendy Jones, don't make me argue with you on our anniversary."