Chapter 2

I went upstairs alone.

Walking into the living room, his jacket was draped over the back of the sofa, the faint scent of cedarwood still clinging to the collar.

The sliding door to the balcony was half open. A line of words was carved into the railing.

He'd used his keys to carve it the day we moved in, crooked and messy, even scraping a small strip of paint off the railing.

"Keira, one day I'm going to marry you."

Back then, he'd just secured his first round of funding, full of youthful vigor, and had spun me around in the empty living room.

"Once I build my career, I'll give you the most magnificent wedding."

I believed him. And waited eight years.

The first year, he said the company was just starting, wait a little longer.

The third year, he said they were in an expansion phase, he couldn't get away.

The fifth year, he said it would be soon, definitely next year.

The eighth year.

I stood on the balcony, my fingertips tracing the carved words. The peeled paint had already developed a thin layer of rust.

The ring box in my pocket was hurting me so much. I took it out and opened it. The one-carat diamond shimmered in the faint light filtering in from the living room.

I couldn't wait for him to propose, I thought. So, I would.

I'd spent three months preparing, mustering all my courage.

Contacting the organizers, recording the video, ordering the ring, troubling Louise and our friends to decorate the celebration restaurant.

And all I got to do was touch the mic.

The lock clicked. I quickly put the ring back.

Ethan walked in, tossing his car keys onto the shoe cabinet. He raised an eyebrow when he saw me staring at the carving on the balcony.

"What's so interesting? Come on, let's go to bed."

I didn't move, just asked him, "Did you find Ashley's thing?"

"Yeah." He walked past me, starting to unfasten his watch.

"Ethan," I called him. "Let's break up."

His movements stopped for a beat, then he let out a scoffing laugh.

"You're going to get like this over a song request at a concert?"

"It was her first time seeing a live show, what's wrong with letting her have it?"

"Am I not allowed to have any other women around me besides you?"

His tone was helpless. "Alright, I already said I'd book a private venue for you next time. Go to sleep, I have to meet investors tomorrow."

With that, he continued towards the master bedroom.

I watched his retreating figure and spoke calmly:

"There's a party at the Walsh family home next week. Something will be announced publicly."

"After that announcement, we're done."

Ethan stopped, turned around, and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"Keira, let me be clear." His tone switched from nonchalant to cold.

"I won't fall for your family trying to pressure me into marriage.”

“Are you that desperate to get married?”

“What do you mean 'we're done'? Are you threatening me? Or playing hard to get?"

I didn't reply. He didn't know this party had nothing to do with him.

The Walsh family was announcing that I was giving up my heir apparent status to join an eight-year national-level confidential project.

From then on, I would live under an assumed name, never appearing in public.

The party was the Walsh family's official statement to the world. To let everyone know that Keira, as a person, was no longer to be watched or her whereabouts questioned.

But he, of course, assumed I would always revolve around him. His temper flared, his voice dropping, which made it more intimidating than a shout.

"What crazy ideas have your friends put in your head now? Does it have to be this year? Right now? Do you have any idea how busy I am?"