Chapter 2

When my hearing finally cleared, I heard Liam’s loud declaration:

“From today on, feel free to like my and Amber’s photos! If we hit a thousand likes, I’m dumping Chloe Miller and marrying Amber.”

With that, he pulled Amber and walked out without looking back.

Before they left the room, Amber gave me a smug, defiant look.

After they left, people in the room started leaving one by one.

Someone gloated, “She doesn’t even have the leverage to cause trouble, and now she’s gone too far, hasn’t she? Regrets now, doesn’t she?”

Others kindly advised me, “Forget your pride; just swallow it and apologize. Otherwise, Mr. Donovan really will marry Amber.”

I knew this was Liam’s way of forcing me to apologize.

But this time, I refused to back down. Not even if it killed me.

The once bustling room quickly emptied until only I remained.

I picked up the remaining strong liquor and drained it.

The fiery alcohol burned its way down my throat and into my stomach.

It made my eyes sting. A connection spanning almost our entire lives, really ending, felt surprisingly hollow.

An arranged marriage thousands of miles away in Veridia—he surely wouldn’t bother me there, right?

But why were my cheeks wet again? I couldn't tell.

I went home and immediately started packing my things, ready to leave.

Liam and I grew up together; we spent more than half of our short lives side by side.

The depth of our relationship meant I had too many things to sort through.

This gold star sticker was the first reward Liam received in kindergarten.

He’d toddled over to me on his short legs and handed it to me.

I vaguely remembered him saying then, “I want to give all the best things to my little Chloe.”

This photo was one he’d secretly taken of my flushed face the first time I got my period.

I’d zoned out during biology class, so I thought I had a terminal illness.

I ran to him, telling him to take good care of himself for the rest of his life, and that he could find a girlfriend, but she couldn’t be prettier than me.

He listened, completely bewildered. After he pressed for details, he realized I’d just started my period.

He rushed to the drugstore to buy me some pads and even searched online with me for how to use them.

He laughed at me for not paying attention in class, and I flushed crimson, biting his arm hard.

Later, he told me that bite hadn’t hurt at all, but it was the first time he’d felt something different for me.

Eventually, we got together, but going to different colleges forced us into a long-distance relationship.

Our memories became a stack of train tickets.

For four whole years, 193,700 kilometers was the distance we traveled to be with each other.

Back then, his eyes were only for me. No matter how long the journey, he never complained.

My fingers brushed a small, hard box containing the matching rings we designed together.

For him, I moved back to this city after college.

The day I returned, he dragged me to get these rings custom-made.

I still remember him slipping the ring onto my finger and saying,

“Chloe, with this ring, you're stuck with me for life. You’ll never be able to leave me.”

Neither of us ever imagined that, in the end, it wouldn't be me who let go, but him.