Chapter 2

2

I opened the door to our apartment, and the sight hit me like a ton of bricks.

I had spent weeks decorating the place for tonight. I wanted it to be perfect when we returned as an engaged couple.

The air was thick with the scent of gardenias.

Foster loved gardenias. I used them for my very first confession to him.

For eight years, I made sure there was always a fresh bouquet in the house.

I thought I was being romantic. I thought I was keeping the spark alive.

But I didn't deserve to end up like this.

I walked through the rooms, my face grim, and started tearing down the decorations.

This was my apartment. My parents had bought it for me as a wedding gift.

They loved Foster. They had been asking when he'd finally become their son-in-law for years.

The thought of their disappointment stung, but the thought of staying with him stung more.

I picked up the framed photo on the nightstand. It was us at the beach, looking like the perfect couple.

I opened the frame, took out the photo, and tossed it into the trash.

This place was haunted by memories I no longer wanted.

I grabbed a cardboard box and started throwing in everything that belonged to him.

His clothes, his books, his expensive watch―everything.

I even packed his toiletries. I didn't want a single trace of him left.

He had lived here for free since the renovations were finished.

He told me he wanted a "nest" for us. I built it, but I forgot to leave room for myself.

I called a courier service as soon as the boxes were taped shut.

I sent it all to his parents' house.

Once the boxes were gone, I collapsed onto the bed. My mind kept drifting back to the early days.

"Veda, I'm the luckiest guy alive. You actually styled the whole place just for me."

He had been so happy then. His eyes used to light up when he looked at me.

"Veda, try this! I made it myself. If you like it, I'll cook for you every night."

He had flour on his face and a goofy grin.

My heart had beat so fast back then, like a drum in my chest.

I really thought we were going to make it.

But then Mila came back into the picture, and I started being left behind over and over.

I was jealous. I was hurt.

I wanted to be his priority. I wanted a life where it was just the two of us.

I didn't want a third person in our relationship.

But whenever I brought it up, he'd just scowl and tell me I was being immature.

"She's sick, Veda. She's had a rough life. She has no one else here but me. What am I supposed to do, let her rot?"

He'd pat my shoulder condescendingly.

"Don't be like this. I'll be back soon."

I gaslighted myself for years. I told myself they were just friends.

I told myself I had to trust him because love is built on trust.

But it was all a lie. A beautiful, fragile bubble that finally popped.

He always ran to her when I needed him most.

I was done being the backup plan.

Maybe he did love me once, but that didn't matter anymore.