Chapter 2

The landlord and the prospective tenant exchanged an awkward glance, muttered a few polite excuses, and quickly left.

I sank onto the couch, staring at their latest Instagram stories.

Right after landing, Chloe and Damon had headed straight to the exact steakhouse from the video. Both of them were beaming at the camera. And the luxury cabin they booked? It was the exact Airbnb I had linked in the chat days ago.

They had seen every single message I sent. They had just chosen to ignore me.

I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and muted their profiles.

Then, I got up and started packing my bags.

Four days later, Chloe finally called.

"Sean? Are you off work?"

"Damon and I just got back. We brought you some souvenirs. Let's go check out the new house together! Didn't you say you had something important to tell me?"

I looked out the window. Rain was violently lashing against the glass.

"Fine. But it's pouring out and impossible to catch a cab. Pick me up on your way."

The line went silent.

After a long pause, Damon’s hesitant voice came through the speaker.

"Hey, Sean… could you just grab an Uber over to the house?"

"Chloe's over at my place making me soup. If we swing by to pick you up, it’s going to take forever with the traffic."

My voice turned ice-cold.

"Didn't she just say you guys barely got off the plane?"

"Forget it then. Some other day."

I hung up immediately.

Chloe's texts immediately bombarded my screen: *[Don't take your bad mood out on Damon over something so stupid. I'm coming to get you right now.]*

I let out a dry, humorless laugh.

*[Don't bother. Didn't even know you knew how to cook.]*

*[Rain check. I'm not leaving the house today.]*

She didn't text back.

Two hours later, my doorbell rang aggressively.

Chloe was outside, calling my name.

I yanked the door open, my face completely expressionless.

"Did you not read my text? I said I'm not going anywhere today."

Without listening, Chloe grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the stairs.

"Stop throwing a tantrum. Damon had a bad stomach flare-up on the flight, and I was just trying to feed him."

"I told him to stay home and rest, but the second he saw you were upset, he insisted on tagging along. Talk to him, okay? He's beating himself up so much he can't even sleep."

I yanked my arm from her grip, rubbing my bruised wrist.

Without a word, I grabbed my jacket and followed her down.

I didn't even glance at the passenger side. I automatically opened the back door and slid into the rear seat.

I already knew Damon would be sitting up front.

Sure enough, seeing that I wasn't fighting for it, Damon turned around from the passenger seat, flashing an apologetic, pitiful smile.

"Sean, I'm so sorry."

"My stomach was killing me, and I honestly couldn't bear to move. Thanks for sitting in the back."

"Whatever," I muttered.

Chloe caught my icy tone and glared at me through the rearview mirror.

As she drove, she tried to smooth things over.

"Sean, Damon dragged his sick body out here just to make sure things weren't weird between us because of the trip."

"Aren't you going to say something to him?"

I leaned my head against the cool window pane.

"There's nothing to say."

Choked by my response, Chloe fell silent.

She forced an awkward laugh and quickly changed the subject with Damon.

Before long, their conversation drifted back to Lake Tahoe.

"Chloe, remember those seagulls by the dock?"

"How could I forget! They swarmed me, and I almost fell into the freezing water! And that tie-dye workshop—you got paint all over my face!"

"You're blaming me? You completely ruined my shirt! I couldn't even wear it!"

Every word, every burst of giggles sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

When their laughter finally died down, Chloe seemed to suddenly remember that she had a fiancé sitting in the back.

"Sean, we should all go to Alaska next time."

"Didn't you say you were feeling burned out and needed a break? When we go—"

I couldn't stand another second of it. I cut her off.

"We're here. Get out."

***