You Were Etched Into My Heart

I made a quick excuse to leave.

Professor Reed patted my shoulder and smiled as she reminded me to get there early tomorrow. "Tyler has waited so many years, and Brittany has finally come around. You two are best friends, so you should be right by his side when it happens."

My fingers felt numb, but I nodded anyway, and only after the door clicked shut did I look down at my phone. Her message from that morning was still sitting on the screen.

[As soon as the awards ceremony wraps up tomorrow, I'll finally make us public.]

I stared at it for a long time, until my eyes began to water. So, the relationship she promised to reveal was never ours to begin with.

As I walked downstairs, her messages popped up one after another.

[Why did you leave so suddenly? It's not what you think. I'll come home tonight and explain everything to you.]

I didn't reply to any of her messages.

When I got back to the apartment and turned on the lights, I stood in the doorway for a long time. The living room looked as familiar as ever. My shoes were tucked in the shoe rack, my favorite jacket was draped over the sofa, and the mug I bought two days ago sat in the kitchen.

It looked like a place where two people lived, yet every time someone came over, I had to hide every trace of my existence.

My shoes went deep into the closet, my razor was shoved into a drawer, and the laundry hanging on the balcony had to be brought inside. Then, I would stay hidden in the bedroom and couldn't even step out for a glass of water.

I remembered one time her friends joked in the living room that the place was far too neat for a single woman.

Through the bedroom door, I heard Brittany Walker reply coolly, "The housekeeper keeps things tidy."

I stood behind that door that day, frozen for a long time. Afterward, she wrapped her arms around me and reassured me, saying it was just a casual comment and telling me not to overthink it. However, I had listened to those "casual comments" for five whole years.

Over the last five years, she had celebrated my birthdays, spent holidays with me, and brought me late-night snacks. I just couldn't go anywhere her acquaintances might be, couldn't meet her professors, couldn't meet her friends, and couldn't be seen.

Every time I asked her how much longer we had to wait, she would kiss me and whisper that it would be soon. And I had believed her for so long and so deeply that I even held off signing an offer letter from an overseas research institute for half a month.

That offer should have been signed a long time ago. If I hadn't been waiting for her, I wouldn't have dragged it out until today.

I pulled the offer letter from the drawer, spread it flat on the desk, and took out a pen. Just as I held it, the front door opened.

Brittany was back. She walked in hurriedly and reached out to hug me, but I leaned away.

Her hands froze midair, and her voice dropped lower. "Harry, I can explain."

I looked at her silently. It seemed like she had prepared her explanation on the drive over; her breathing was heavy.

"What's happening tomorrow isn't what you think. The proposal is just a temporary arrangement. I was planning to tell you tonight."

I laughed. "If I hadn't run into you today, when were you planning to tell me?"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "I was going to tell you."

"When?" I stared at her. "After you put the ring on his finger?"

Her face turned pale. "Harry, don't do this."

"Then how should I react?" My voice wasn't loud, but my chest felt tight. "Should I be more understanding and tell you it's fine? Should I tell you to go ahead with the proposal, put on a good show first, and then come back to comfort me when it's all over?"

"That's not what I mean."

She reached out to touch me, but I took a step back.

"Then tell me, Brittany. Since he'll be the one standing beside you tomorrow, what am I to you?" I asked.

She didn't say a word.

At that moment, the living room fell dead silent. I looked at her and suddenly found the person in front of me unfamiliar.