Chapter 2

I stared at the message.

He’d unblocked me. He was reaching out first.

It was laughable. In eight years, this was the first time he had ever backed down.

After a long silence, I typed back one word.

"Okay."

I tossed my phone aside and started cleaning the apartment.

After being in the hospital for so long, the place was a mess.

Preston never lifted a finger around the house. I always did everything.

The apartment was filled with the scent of us, of him. Every piece of furniture, every decoration, was chosen to his taste.

For eight years, I had catered to his every whim, never having a thought of my own.

Before, if Preston had suggested a trip to the lake, I would have been jumping for joy. I’d have immediately started planning the itinerary, packing our bags.

He and Sophie had been to the lake together many times. It made me sick with jealousy.

I can't count the times I told Preston I wanted to go, just the two of us. To walk hand-in-hand on the beach.

What did he say then?

"You're not a child anymore. You want to see the lake? Go by yourself. Why do you need me there?"

I told him I wanted to go with him.

He got so annoyed he started throwing things.

"Chloe, I'm busy! Unlike you, I have a job. Keep this up, and I'm not coming home tonight!"

And he didn't. He was gone for a week.

I was so scared he'd disappear for good that I never brought it up again.

Today, Preston was the one suggesting the lake, the one making the first move. I should have been thrilled.

But I felt nothing.

After cleaning the apartment, I lay down on the bed.

Another text from Preston came through.

"I'll pick you up in the morning."

"No need. I’ll meet you there," I replied.

He didn't answer.

The next morning, I packed a bag, thoughtfully including sunscreen and water for him, and called an Uber to the lake.

The beach was beautiful, romantic, and crowded.

I waited from morning until evening. Preston never showed up.

I called him a few times. No answer. No reply to my texts.

Around 10 PM, I knew he wasn't coming.

I snapped a few pictures of the lake and called an Uber home.

In the car, I saw Sophie's new Instagram story.

"You are my safe harbor ??"

The picture was of her hand holding a man's. It was obviously Preston's―I recognized the Cartier bracelet. It was a birthday gift from me, engraved with our initials.

Seeing it, I didn't feel sad. I felt a strange sense of calm.

Of course. The reason he didn't show was Sophie.

Every single time he abandoned me, it was for Sophie.

The weird thing was, every other time, the pain was so sharp I wanted to cry.

This time, I didn't feel sad at all. It felt more like… a release.

Back home, I took a shower, saved the pictures to my computer, and went straight to sleep.

In the middle of the night, I was woken by a familiar scent of jasmine cologne and a warm body pressing against me.

It was Preston. He was back.

Before, I would have responded instantly, passionately.

This time, I didn't. I just felt annoyed that he had ruined a good dream.

I pushed him away.

"Not tonight, Preston. I'm tired."