Chapter 5
Leo’s parents and mine were old friends, and we had a great relationship.
Not wanting to make our parents awkward, I quickly washed my face and hair, changed into some casual clothes, and went back to our new home.
This new place was meant to be our marital home.
From the large furniture to every tiny ornament, I had carefully chosen everything.
But now, his buddies were sprawled on the sofa, crushing my little dog plushie, smoking and horsing around, letting ash fall into the carpet fibers.
Serena directly pulled my hand, seating me at the table as if we were old friends.
“Long time no see, Harper. Come on, sit down, make yourself at home.”
Besides a few actresses I’d worked with, there were also some of Serena’s influencer friends.
The strong perfume mixed with the cigarette smoke from the living room made me wrinkle my nose.
“Director Harper, you don’t mind us live streaming, do you? Don’t worry, we won’t film you guys.”
I was about to refuse.
Serena spoke first.
“Leo already agreed. If you’re worried about noise, you can even stream from the bedroom.”
The intimate nickname made my scalp crawl. Serena smiled at me again.
“Harper’s temper is so good, she definitely won’t mind. Everyone, have fun, eat and drink well.”
I frowned, feeling uncomfortable with her utterly clueless words.
“Oh, and Harper, I have a gift for you today too.”
Just as I thought of getting up to change seats, Serena’s voice suddenly rang out. Before I could react, she broke into a smile again and called out,
“Hey, Leo, come sit between me and Harper.”
Leo had just finished seating his friends, so he unceremoniously sat between us, pulling me back into my seat.
“Thanks, baby, for saving me a spot.”
I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles.
Glasses of wine were poured one after another at the table, and every now and then, laughter erupted over some new gossip.
I sat stiffly in the midst of it all, my introverted nature making me unusually silent, watching Leo and Serena playfully tease each other, as if they were the true hosts of the housewarming.
My last glass of wine I’d drunk too quickly, making my eyes water from coughing.
Leo got up and gently patted my back. The lit cigarette he held was aimed straight at my face. I watched the blue smoke slowly drift upwards, a burning itch spreading across my skin.
I had told him so many times, *don't smoke in front of me*.
Just then, a young actor by the projector called out.
“Leo, you have an old DVD player! And so many discs.”
“I’ll put on some music to liven things up.”
I wasn’t interested in the music. Leo had lit another cigarette, and the smoke made my stomach churn with the wine.
“Leo, I don’t feel well. Please stop smoking.”
I tugged at his sleeve under the table, my voice a whisper.
But Leo merely switched the cigarette to his other hand, then mischievously blew a puff of smoke right into my face.
“Sorry, baby, my addiction’s pretty bad. Last one, promise. Be good, okay?”
A wave of unspoken disappointment and exhaustion washed over me. I lowered my eyes, feeling an almost unbearable nausea.
Just as I was about to stand up and rush to the bathroom.
“Leo Evans!”
A sudden roar came from the projector.
“You’re smoking behind my back again!”
A vibrant, energetic girl grabbed the boy by the ear, dragging him out of the equipment room.
It was Serena and Leo from high school.
“We agreed: one cigarette a day during your quitting period, no more! If you keep lacking willpower, forget about your first kiss!”
The somewhat rebellious boy immediately tossed the cigarette and stomped on it twice.
“I’m wrong, I’m totally wrong! Just let this be tomorrow’s cigarette, okay?”
“Okay, okay! The day after tomorrow, the day after that too, I won’t smoke! My little queen, please don’t be angry. I’ll go buy you bubble tea right now, okay?”
Only then did the girl’s expression soften, and she commanded.
“Pick up that cigarette and throw it in the trash.”
“Got it.”
In the video, Leo threw the cigarette without hesitation.
Outside the video, Leo, in real life, had instinctively hidden his cigarette butt, burning his hand.
His hand trembled, and the ring—the very one I’d waited seven years for, the one he’d just pulled from his pocket and secretly clutched in his palm—clattered into the side plate, filled with greasy sauce and shrimp shells.
It was like the heavy clang of a bell, finally awakening me from years of hazy self-deception.