Chapter 4

Tara hadn't appeared out of thin air.

For the past six years, she had lingered between Julian and me like a permanent shadow.

On her birthday, Julian would pick out a gift weeks in advance.

When she was sad, Julian would abandon our dinner dates to walk her through the park.

On the day she got married, Julian got completely hammered, broke down in my arms, and slurred:

"At least someone will take care of her now."

Back then, I asked him if he was heartbroken.

He went quiet for a long time before muttering:

"She’s an old friend. It’s hard to let go."

Later, when Tara filed for divorce, Julian drove through the night to pick her up.

I had a fever of 102 that same day. I called him three times, and he didn't pick up once.

The next afternoon, he showed up at my apartment with soup, looking deeply apologetic.

"Tara was crying on the curb with her baby. I couldn't just abandon her."

I had always believed that basic human empathy was important.

Yet in the end, my empathy was used as a doormat.

Mom squeezed my cold fingers.

"Don't go to City Hall tomorrow."

"Get some sleep. We’ll decide in the morning."

I nodded.

Yet I couldn't close my eyes.

At four in the morning, I sat by the window, unlocked my phone, and pulled up the security camera feed in the condo.

Dad had insisted on installing it right after the renovation, saying a woman living alone always needed safety measures.

Back then, Julian had laughed at him, calling it pure paranoia.

Only now did I realize that cameras weren't just for burglars.

They were meant to reveal the truth about the people you trusted.

On the screen, Tara sat on my bed holding her sleeping son.

Julian was handing her a glass of warm water.

Julian’s mother was rummaging through my walk-in closet.

"This designer dress looks like it'll fit Tara perfectly."

"Chloe has dozens of outfits; she won't notice one missing."

Tara murmured half-heartedly that she shouldn't, yet her fingers were already stroking the silk fabric.

Julian didn't stop them.

He simply sat on the edge of the mattress, looking down at Tara, his voice soft.

"Don't be scared. I'm right here."

Tara suddenly started weeping.

"Julian, are you really signing the marriage certificate with her tomorrow?"

Julian went completely silent.

Those few seconds of silence were brief.

Yet they were long enough to rip away the very last shred of warmth in my heart.

Finally, he spoke. "She waited six years for me. I have to give her closure."

Tara looked up at him through her tears.

"What about me?"

"If I hadn't listened to my mother back then and married the wrong guy, the one standing next to you tomorrow would be me."

Julian hung his head and said nothing.

His mother sighed from the corner of the room.

"What’s the point of dwelling on the past now?"

"Chloe’s family is well-off. The condo is paid off, and the banquet hall is fully booked."

"Julian, go sign the papers first."

"We can settle Tara’s situation slowly down the road."

Staring at the screen, my fingertips turned ice-cold.

They knew perfectly well that what they were doing was wrong.

They just assumed I was a pushover who would swallow it.

Tara sniffled and asked, "What if I don't want to move out?"

Julian reached over and wiped her tears with his thumb.

"Then don't move."

"Chloe is reasonable. I'll handle her."

Tara pressed further:

"What if I can't bear to watch you two walk down the aisle?"

Julian gave a wry smile.

"We can reschedule the ceremony."

"She’ll throw a small tantrum, and then it'll blow over."

"She’s been with me for six years. She can't leave me."

I closed the app.

Dawn was just breaking over the horizon.

I picked up my phone and called the hotel venue to cancel our wedding reception.

I messaged the makeup artist, the photographer, the videographer, and the officiant one by one, apologizing and paying out every single cancellation fee.

Finally, I opened my chat with Julian.

At three in the morning, he had sent me a text:

[Stop pouting.]

[I'll pick you up at nine tomorrow for City Hall.]

I stared at the screen for a long time before typing my reply:

[Don't bother coming.]

[The wedding is off, and we're not signing anything.]

I hit send and flipped the phone face-down on the nightstand.