Chapter 3

It was already late by the time I finished handling everything.

I was packing my clothes backstage when a hotel employee hurried over and handed me a gift with a card. He explained that a gentleman had left it along with a plastic bag containing stomach medicine.

I glanced at it. The card on the gift said "Happy Engagement" and was signed simply with "Mr. Blake."

I froze for a few seconds, my throat tightening as my stomach seemed to clench in response.

Before I could process this, Ella rolled down her car window and called for me.

"Going to confront Connor?"

I closed the car door and shook my head. "Go home."

From booking the venue to arranging the catering, I handled everything myself. Now, I just didn't have the energy for a confrontation.

I swallowed a stomach pill and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

It was nearly ten when I got home.

The apartment was completely dark. Clearly, no one had been back.

I poured myself a glass of wine, sat by the window, and waited with uncharacteristic patience, minute by dragging minute.

We'd moved in two years ago.

Back then, Connor had just gained some recognition with his new album. Persistent stalker fans kept showing up at our door, forcing us to relocate to this more private, upscale, clean, and orderly neighborhood. Even the people here kept a cold, polite distance from each other.

Nothing like the cozy place we'd once created together.

And the apartment wasn't the only thing we couldn't go back to.