Chapter 1

At the class reunion, our former teacher, Mr. Wallace, suddenly asked everyone about their relationship status.

He first asked Madison Taylor, the prettiest girl in our class:

"Back then, to help you all focus on your studies, I deliberately confiscated the love letter you wrote to Evan Pierce. Do you still resent me for that?"

Madison's eyes brimmed with tears as she gazed tenderly at my husband, Evan Pierce, then shook her head.

Mr. Wallace then turned to Evan:

"If you could turn back time, would you accept Madison's confession and make up for that missed opportunity?"

Without hesitation, Evan said:

"I would."

Everyone started cheering.

"You two are truly meant for each other!"

I looked down at the cheap wedding ring on my finger.

Just yesterday, we had celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary.

Evan had told me he would never betray me in this lifetime.

Now it seemed I was the only one who had taken him seriously.

Having gotten the answer he wanted, Mr. Wallace's smile relaxed.

He raised his glass with a sigh:

"Back then, to avoid affecting your college entrance exams, I had to be the bad guy and keep you two apart."

"But now knowing you still have a chance, I feel much better."

Good-natured laughter filled the private room.

The class president took the lead:

"Mr. Wallace, we all understand your intentions. Besides, the lovebirds didn't miss their chance—sometimes fate just takes its time. Maybe this reunion is the perfect opportunity. Right, Evan?"

Evan smiled without responding, as if in agreement.

Madison's face turned even redder as she practically buried herself under the table.

Only I stared at my glass, my eyes unfocused.

Because back in high school, the person dating Evan was me.

Madison had only written him a love letter.

But everyone believed that Madison was the one who should be with Evan.

Even Evan had hidden the ring on his finger.

Suddenly, Madison looked at me and said apologetically:

"Mia, could you switch seats with me? I'd like to sit next to Evan."

The chatter in the room died down as everyone turned to look at me.

The class president laughed first:

"Oh, can't wait already, Madison?"

He pointed at me with a hint of suggestion and urging.

"Come on, Mia, I've got a seat here. Switch over and don't get in the way of their quality time."

Another round of laughter.

Madison bit her lower lip, looking at me expectantly.

I looked at Evan.

"Should I switch?"

I asked softly.

Evan didn't look at me—as if deliberately avoiding my gaze, or perhaps not wanting others to notice our connection.

He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

He wanted me to switch.

I picked up my glass and drained it in one gulp.

Then I set down the glass, pushed back my chair, stood up, and sat down next to the class president.

Each movement was as precise as a robot's.

Madison smiled at me gratefully and happily took the seat next to Evan.

Someone spoke up suggestively:

"Look at them—don't they look just like when they secretly took their graduation photo together?"

I froze, almost forgetting to mask my expression.

"They really do," the athletics rep said with a laugh, slinging his arm around someone's shoulders. "Back during graduation photos, only Evan and Madison got special treatment. They said they didn't want to take photos with unimportant people, so they specifically asked me to excuse them. I remember Mia even asked me where Evan was."

"In the end, I made up some excuse about Evan spraining his ankle to cover for them."

"Evan, is that photo of you and Madison still your profile background?"

Evan's profile background hadn't changed since graduation year.

Two figures in school uniforms, seen from behind.

He had told me it was a stock photo he found online to make up for not taking graduation photos.

Turns out, it was him and Madison.

I lowered my head and looked at the ring on my finger. Under the light, it hurt my eyes.

"Oh, right," Mr. Wallace suddenly turned to me with a caring smile, "I almost forgot to ask you, Mia. You were always so introverted in school and rarely came to our reunions. Are you married now?"

The room fell silent for a moment.

Evan's hand froze mid-air as he stared directly at me.

That look was filled with anxiety and warning.

Then someone kicked my shin.

The cold leather of the shoe touched my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

I didn't need to guess who it was.

After five years of marriage, the last time I'd seen Evan this flustered was when we met each other's parents before our wedding.

He was afraid I'd embarrass him in front of his parents, so he had specifically set up secret signals to tell me when to shut up.

I didn't look down, nor did I look at Evan.

I smiled at Mr. Wallace:

"I am married, but... we'll be divorced soon."

Across the table, Evan's body went rigid.