Chapter 2

Back home, I collapsed onto the couch, feeling utterly drained.

I wasn’t crazy, and I wasn't being unreasonable.

That old mug Daniel had used for twenty years was his most cherished possession.

It was an old-fashioned olive green enamel mug, chipped in several places, revealing the dark metal beneath the enamel, with one spot even showing rust.

I’d tried countless times to get him to replace it – with a delicate porcelain cup, a sleek ceramic one, even just a simple glass.

He’d stubbornly refused every single time.

He used to say it was the only valuable thing he owned back when he was dirt poor, a testament to his struggle, a reminder of his humble beginnings and ambitions.

Whenever he caressed that chipped old mug, his eyes held a tenderness and nostalgia I could never quite understand.

I always thought it was a tribute to his difficult past.

I had no choice but to tolerate it.

But last week, he just threw it away.

Without any warning, the mug he called his "humble beginnings" was tossed into the kitchen trash can.

When I asked him about it, he just said, indifferently:

"Didn't you always complain about it being old and broken?"

"Now that I've thrown it out, why are you still making such a fuss?"

My heart sank at that moment.

Something was definitely off.

How could he just throw away something he'd guarded for twenty years, something he called his "humble beginnings," just like that?

This change was too sudden to be innocent.

That night, while he was showering, I secretly searched his briefcase.

His phone, which he used to let me browse freely, now had a complex password.

My small seed of suspicion instantly multiplied a thousandfold.

Over the next few days, I paid close attention to everything.

I noticed he started smiling at his phone a lot, a kind of smile I'd only seen twenty years ago when he was trying to win me over.

He also spent more time talking on the phone on the balcony, always sneaking around.

At that moment, I was almost certain: he was hiding something.

Then, three days ago, I followed him. I watched him walk into an upscale coffee shop.

Through the glass window, I saw the woman sitting opposite him.

I knew her.

Chloe Miller.

Daniel's college classmate, the one that got away, the unrequited love of his youth.

I'd heard she married a wealthy businessman right after graduation and moved abroad.

Now, she was back.

And what made my blood run cold was the brand-new enamel mug sitting next to Chloe's hand.

It was identical to the one in our trash can.

Daniel was looking at her with eyes full of doting affection, just like he used to look at that old, chipped mug.

It wasn't his "humble beginnings" he was guarding all these years.

He was clearly guarding his unattainable old flame.

*Ding-dong—*

The doorbell interrupted my thoughts.

I peeked through the peephole: it was my mom, along with a furious Daniel.

I didn't open the door.

"Evelyn, open the door!"

"I know you're in there!"

"You better explain yourself!"

Daniel pounded loudly on the door.

"Evelyn, please open the door. Let's sit down and talk this through, alright?"

My mom's voice was tearful.

I leaned against the door, saying nothing.

"Evelyn, don't push your luck!"

Daniel's patience ran out.

"What do you think you are?"

"You're nothing but my pet!"

"Think you can fly now that your wings are strong?"

Listening to his cruel insults, I felt nothing but disgust.

I pulled out my phone and sent Daniel a text.

"Want to talk?"

"Fine."

"Send your mom away first."

Soon, the noise outside the door subsided.

About ten minutes later, Daniel called, his voice barely concealing his rage.

"She's gone. Open the door."

I opened the door, and he stormed in like an enraged lion.

"Evelyn, what the hell are you doing? Are you losing your mind?"

He shoved me against the wall, placing his hands on either side of me, trapping me between his chest and the cold surface.

"Have I been too good to you all these years, made you forget who you are?"

I looked at his face, so close to mine – the face I had loved for twenty years, but which now looked utterly alien and menacing.

I smiled, a bitter laugh that threatened to bring tears to my eyes.

"Daniel, aren't you tired?"

He froze, not understanding what I meant.

"Aren't you tired, pretending to be loving with a woman you don't care for, day in and day out?"

I raised my hand and gently touched his cheek. His face instantly changed.