Chapter 3

Busy, he certainly was.

Too busy having 40-minute "work FaceTimes" with Ashley late at night.

Too busy remembering Ashley's coffee order, but he'd forgotten I was allergic to shrimp.

Too busy having a balloon wall set up for Ashley's birthday, and posting "Happy Birthday to our team's youngest!" on Ins.

His time, his thoughts, his attentiveness – they all had a destination. It just wasn't me.

"I'm in the final stretch of a project right now, I have three sets of investors to meet by the end of the year, and I can't afford any missteps." He rubbed his temples. "Why are you pulling all this now? What exactly do you want?"

"Just calm down and think about what you're doing." He threw out his words and turned to leave.

"Ethan." He stopped.

"Yes, I am playing hard to get." I looked at his back. "So, will you marry me?"

Ethan didn't turn around. He was silent for a few seconds. "Get some good rest."

He walked into his study and closed the door.

A layer of bitterness spread in my heart. Even though I knew the answer, I still asked the question. Perhaps, after eight years of my youth, I still couldn't completely let go.

But this was the last time.

Late at night, I sat on the edge of the master bedroom bed and pulled open the nightstand drawer.

A stack of papers lay quietly inside, their edges yellowed and curled.

Two years ago, I'd printed them out, screenshot by screenshot, from online wedding inspiration boards: venues, floral arrangements, invitation fonts, vow templates.

That day, I'd excitedly brought them to show him. He was on the phone, mouthed "I'll look later," and waved his hand at me. Two years had passed, and that "later" never came.

My phone vibrated. Louise's voice was still indignant:

"They've taken down all the restaurant decorations. Keira, the concert thing, the more I think about it, the angrier I get. You prepared for three months, and he just… "

"Louise, it's fine. I'm leaving anyway."

The other end was silent for a long time.

"Are you sure? Eight years of feelings, and another eight years if you go. When you come back… everything will be different."

"Yes."

"You're not even going to explain it to him?"

"Louise, there's nothing left for me to say to him."

Louise didn't speak again. After a while, her voice grew thick with emotion.

"I'll keep the restaurant banner then, just in case… "

"Louise."

"Hmm."

"Throw it away."

Day four of the silent treatment.

Ethan left early and came home late every day, heading straight for his study.

Occasionally, we'd bump into each other in the living room; he'd look at his phone, I'd watch TV, neither of us saying a word. Under the same roof, we were like two estranged roommates.

Louise, seeing I was in low spirits, dragged me out for dinner.

"Don't wallow. I booked a private room, you can cry or curse all you want."

We arrived and sat down. Before the food even came, laughter drifted from the next private room. It sounded very familiar.

Louise's face changed. "Maybe we should switch… "

I shook my head.

Ashley's soft voice came through.

"Ethan, I still feel terrible about the concert. The mic was for Keira, and I was so thoughtless."

"Maybe I should apologize to Keira myself?"

"What does it have to do with you?" Ethan's voice was flat. "I gave it to you, you just took it."

He'd defended her in front of an entire table of people. Yet, when I used to visit his company, he would always deliberately keep his distance, saying there was "too much gossip."

One friend curiously pressed, "But Ethan, I heard Keira had something planned that night?"

A brief silence.

"I knew she was going to propose. Someone tipped me off over a month ago." Ethan's voice was still nonchalant.

Louise looked up at me sharply. I clenched my fists.