Chapter 2

Holding a bag of medicine, I stood outside the door of Chloe's apartment.

The door wasn't fully closed. Inside, Chloe's nasal, congested laughter drifted out.

"You flew back overnight? What about the NYC project? Are you really planning to stay in L.A. for good?"

Austin replied without a second of hesitation.

"I don't care about the project anymore."

"I couldn't focus knowing you were here having a fever alone. I've already applied for a transfer back to the L.A. branch. No more long-distance for us."

Chloe's tone was playful. "If Elena finds out, won't she be thrilled to death?"

"I only care about your happiness."

My fingernails dug into the plastic handles of the bag, leaving bloodless white marks on my skin.

Three years ago, holding my mother's critical illness notice, I had grabbed his sleeve and begged him to stay. I asked him if we could not do long-distance.

He had packed his suitcase and walked out without looking back.

"Elena, you know how crucial this promotion is for my career. I'm doing this for our future. Be mature."

The night he chased his bright future, my mother passed away. I shook and cried alone in an empty house.

Over the past three years, I had suggested ending the long distance countless times.

I was even willing to compromise, to give up my career in L.A. just to move to NYC for him.

But he rejected me every single time.

"The cost of living in New York is too high. If you move here, you'll only drag down my progress."

"Stop trying to hold back my career with your emotional insecurity."

But his precious career and future suddenly became worthless when Chloe got a common cold.

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Austin was sitting by the bed, holding a bowl of warm soup.

The moment he saw me, his brows knitted together.

"What are you doing here?"

I placed the bag of medicine on the nightstand.

"I came to see Chloe. And, of course, to see the knight who flew across three time zones."

Chloe quickly waved her hands in panic.

"Elena, please don't blame Austin. My fever was just so high last night, and I complained to him on Snapchat."

"I didn't expect him to leave his work and fly back. If it bothers you, I can tell him to leave right now."

Austin's face darkened. "You're this sick. Why should I leave?"

He set the bowl down, his expression completely unapologetic.

"Elena, stop being so passive-aggressive."

"Chloe is your best friend. She had a 102-degree fever. Did you expect me to just let her rot in this apartment alone?"

I looked at the seafood chowder in the bowl.

It was a recipe I had spent half a month perfecting, writing down every single step on a sticky note to teach him.

He had complained that takeout chowder never tasted right.

And now, he was using the recipe I taught him to nurture another woman.

"I also had a 102-degree fever two weeks ago," I said quietly. "You told me to use UberEats."

Austin's eyes flickered with a brief moment of guilt.

"But you got through it fine on your own, didn't you?"

"Chloe is different from you. She isn't as independent as you are. Are you seriously getting jealous of your own best friend?"

Suddenly, I found my past self—the girl who had desperately messaged him for help—utterly pathetic. A self-mocking smile crept onto my lips.

Seeing me smile, his expression relaxed, looking relieved. "Good, now that you've smiled, let's put this behind us. Don't bring it up again."

"I've already applied to transfer back to L.A., so we won't be apart anymore. You got what you wanted. Chloe just said she wanted some macarons from the boutique bakery downtown. Go grab some for her."

I turned and walked out.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

[Hi Ms. Elena, the wedding dress you fell in love with has arrived in our boutique. When would you like to come in for a fitting?]

[No need. Please cancel the order and process a refund.]

I used to think long-distance relationship was just a long queue. As long as I kept the seat next to me empty and waited patiently, he would eventually sit down.

Now I realized that a flight from NYC to L.A. only took six hours. It wasn't that he couldn't come back. He had just changed his destination long ago.

There was no point in waiting anymore.