Chapter 3

They both picked rings from the same series.

The styles were incredibly similar. Luke's had a mountain pattern, while Brooke's had waves.

They weren't just similar; they fit perfectly together, like a pair.

Brooke looked a little lost, but I laughed, snatched the two rings, and quickly slid one onto each of my hands.

"No wonder we're such good friends, we're so in sync! I was debating which design to get, but now I don't have to."

I pulled out my phone and snapped a dozen photos.

But everyone just grew more awkward.

Brooke forced a smile.

"He definitely copied me. But since you like it, I won't bother arguing."

My heart ached faintly. Then, I forced myself to be cheerful and suggested we drink to celebrate.

But Brooke, who usually had the best alcohol tolerance, was the first to get completely wasted, sprawling like a rag doll.

She kept mumbling, "Lena... we'll always be best friends..."

Luke stood up, expertly picked up her jacket, and helped her stand, saying, "Lena, I'm taking Brooke home first. If you're tired, just go to sleep, don't wait up for me."

I quietly nodded.

From the balcony, I watched them lean on each other as they disappeared into the distance.

I took a deep breath, then scooped a spoonful of cake for myself. The cream tasted sickly sweet and bitter.

I reluctantly put down my fork and went back to my bedroom, planning to sort through my belongings.

But by chance, I discovered the love letters Luke had written to me when he was eighteen.

Two hundred letters, their pages filled with his tight, meticulous script.

"Lena, I noticed you long before you ever noticed me. You never looked up. I was always so curious-what did you think about when you were so quiet?"

"Silly girl, I didn't save you. You were the one who gave me a chance to prove my love."

"Lena, we're going to grow old together."

As I read, my nose grew slightly sore, and the corners of my mouth unconsciously turned up, but then I abruptly stopped as I turned a page.

The back of the love letters had new writing.

"Strange, before I always thought of Brooke as my rival, and only gave her a friendly face for Lena's sake. But now I realize, she seems really special."

"I ran into Brooke today. It's the middle of winter, and her face was bright red from the cold. I felt a little pang of sympathy."

"No, I have to control my feelings."

"My hand accidentally met Brooke's during our walk. She jumped back like she'd been shocked, her face turning red. Does she feel it too?"

"Lena was surprisingly clingy today, but Brooke was clearly disappointed. I don't want to run from my feelings anymore. I need to be clear with her."

Fragmented handwriting.

It formed a reverse love letter.

Though the handwriting was new, the feelings were just as genuine and passionate. I saw that it seemed to have started about a year ago, and the entries on the back were even starting to exceed those on the front.

His heart, it turned out, had shifted long ago.

The most recent date was just yesterday:

"I'm sorry, Lena."

"But it's time to end things. I've already failed you; I can't fail Brooke too."

A torrent of tears finally burst forth.

I struggled to breathe, coughing heavily twice, and hot blood splattered onto my palm.

I fumbled for a tissue.

Luke chose that moment to return. He habitually pulled open the door and peeked in.

"Lena, are you asleep?"