Chapter 2

When I got home, I started clearing out everything that had anything to do with him.

Stacks of old photos. Anniversary gifts, year after year. I piled it all into one enormous cardboard box.

It was filled to the top with him. Ten years of him.

That box was my whole twenties.

My phone buzzed. Not a text. An Instagram notification.

Mia had just posted a story.

Two photos.

The first was a dim hotel room. White sheets.

The second was a close-up of the carpet.

A man's tailored suit jacket lay crumpled on the floor. Next to it, a luxury watch that had slid out of the pocket.

Even through the screen I knew it. It was face-down, the engraving showing. Forever.

Mia's caption: Someone had a little too much to drink and insisted I take him to a hotel. What am I supposed to do with him?

The likes and comments were piling up.

Wait, is that the boyfriend?!

That watch is worth tens of thousands easy. And so is he, apparently.

I stared at the watch for a few seconds.

Then I picked up the box, carried it downstairs, and dropped it in the dumpster.

It landed with a dull thud, and then everything went quiet.

For the next few days, Julian didn't call or text once.

That suited me fine.

That weekend, Rachel, a friend and coworker we both knew, posted in the group Slack channel to get everyone together for dinner.

She messaged me privately to make sure I'd come. Rachel and Julian had been in college together, and the three of us had been inseparable since the day we joined the company.

At seven o'clock I arrived at an upscale French restaurant, the kind where you need a reservation.

I was outside the private dining room and had my hand up to push the door when I stopped.

Not because I was nervous. Because I'd heard my name.

"...so you had Mia do the first dance with you at the gala. You weren't worried Evelyn would lose it right there?" Rachel asked.

Julian laughed. He didn't sound worried at all. "Why would I be? I saw it coming."

"With that temper of hers, she could stand to learn a lesson or two."

"She's way too controlling. She never gives me any space."

Someone else asked, "And what if Evelyn's really mad this time? She's a catch. Guys would be lining up."

Julian laughed even harder.

"Evelyn and I have been together ten years. I know her better than anybody."

"Trust me, she's just in a mood. She'll be over it in a few days."

"Same as last month. I insisted on having dinner with Mia, just the two of us, and she got over that, didn't she?"

He paused, and his voice got even smugger.

"I'd bet you anything. The sky could fall, and she still wouldn't break up with me."

"I'm a hundred percent sure of that."

I stood outside the door.

I wasn't heartbroken. I wasn't angry. I was just tired.

He was right.

I'd fought with him and I'd been upset with him, but I had never once said I was leaving.

Every time he crossed a line, every time he treated my patience like it could stretch forever, every time he grinned and said, You're not actually mad at me, are you?, I swallowed it.

Not because I didn't have a temper. Because I cared about him too much.

But now I got it.

To him, my patience wasn't love. It was proof that my limits could be pushed back as far as he liked. Every good thing I did for him was just more evidence I couldn't leave.

I was about to turn and go when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

"Evelyn? Why are you just standing out here?" Mia was smiling at me.

Before I could say anything, she reached past me and pushed the door open.

Every head in the room turned. Julian was sitting directly across from the door, an empty chair beside him.

He stiffened when he saw me, but he recovered quickly, slipped back into that easy, in-control expression, and even smiled.

Rachel got there first. She stood up and waved me over. "Evelyn! Come in, we were just waiting on you two."

Mia half-led, half-pulled me into the room. Rachel steered me toward the empty seat next to Julian.

I said I didn't need to sit. Rachel wouldn't hear it and practically pushed me down into the chair.

Julian turned and said quietly, "Hey. You made it."

As if nothing had happened.

The custom watch was back on his left wrist. The face caught the light.

I didn't say a word. I picked up my knife and fork, cut into my steak, chewed, swallowed.

Julian and Mia were talking in low voices, and every so often their laughter drifted over to me.

I didn't look at them. I didn't say anything.