Chapter 2

Growing up, Jason Hayes was the neighborhood troublemaker, unruly and incredibly mischievous, often getting chased by his mom with a broom.

I, on the other hand, was a premature baby, and my health wasn't great when I was little. My parents kept a very strict eye on me.

They rarely let me go out and play with other kids, so I'd just sit by the window, enviously watching them run around freely outside.

Whenever Jason saw me sitting by the window, lost in thought, he'd always sneak over to bring me little snacks, then pinch my chubby cheeks and whisper, "Little sis, when can you come out and play with me?"

In junior high, my health gradually improved, and my parents finally felt comfortable letting me go out.

Back then, he'd always carefully look after me, telling me, "Celeste, if anyone ever bullies you when you're out, just tell them my name, and they won't dare bother you."

From then on, I was never alone when I went out. He'd always accompany me wherever I wanted to go.

If anyone bullied me, he'd be there in an instant, becoming my strong and powerful protector.

When we got to college, we naturally fell into a relationship.

He became even more gentle with me, showering me with all his special affection.

It wasn't until our junior year that Vanessa Scott's appearance shattered all the beauty between us.

She was smart, beautiful, efficient, and effortlessly graceful.

She was also Jason's classmate.

They had a way of communicating that I couldn't understand.

At first, Jason would help translate for me.

But later, he grew tired of it, saying, "You don't understand what we're talking about anyway, so why don't you go do your own thing?"

They talked about everything, from real life to online, from morning until night.

Meanwhile, my conversations with Jason gradually dwindled to mere snippets.

Friends warned me to pay more attention to their closeness.

I brushed it off, because I believed that even couples deserved their privacy.

I also trusted him; he wouldn't fall for someone else.

But reality hit me hard.

That night, Jason didn't leave. He said he was worried about me.

I silently watched him for a long time. "Suit yourself."

Then, I went back to my room, locking the door just as he tried to follow.

Jason stood outside the door, his eyes filled with a complicated mix of emotions. He paused, then said, "Celeste, I'll be right outside. Come find me when you've calmed down, okay?"

I ignored him, scalding tears falling onto my cold hand, spreading a burning sensation.

Jason, I don't want to love you anymore.

I woke up the next morning, rubbing my throbbing temples, and stepped out of my room.

I saw Jason frantically pulling on his jacket to leave.

"Celeste, I have an urgent matter to deal with right now, so I'm heading out. I'll pick you up tonight, and we can go out for dinner."

Without waiting for my response, he rushed out.

He was so fast that before I could even react, he was gone.

I pressed my lips together and looked at the sofa where he had slept, noticing that in his haste, he had left his phone.

I walked over and picked it up.

I was about to send it to him later.

Just then, a message popped up.

Jason hadn't set a password, so any incoming message was visible.

The message was from someone named "My Sweetie."

In the photo, Vanessa was sitting disheveled in the emergency room, smiling and flashing a peace sign at the camera.

The message read: "Don't rush on your way here, drive safely. I'll wait for you here."