Chapter Two

I retreated to a leather sofa in the corner, lowered my lashes, and looked down at the paper plate in my hand.

The trippy lights crossing overhead lit up the cut side of the cake clearly. I picked up a small bite with the little silver fork and put it in my mouth. Rich vanilla bean and a light hint of Earl Grey spread across my tongue.

My blond roommate next to me was chewing on a straw, mumbling, "Oh my God, this is amazing. He does quantum physics, and he can make a dessert with this many layers of flavor? My standards for a boyfriend just went up again."

I gave a little twitch of a smile and set the plate down on the glass coffee table.

Of course it tasted good. In my last life, I was the one who taught him that recipe.

To get him to master the perfect ratio of Earl Grey to vanilla, I spent half a month with him at the kitchen island in our Manhattan apartment. That genius, who'd always been above everyone, got so frustrated with the flour and the oven that he smashed the whisk three times. I was the one who, patiently, wrapped my arms around his waist from behind and guided his hands until he could feel how much pressure to use.

Back then, with flour all over him, he'd turned his head and promised me very seriously: "Eve, once I've got the whole process down, I'll bake you one myself every year for your birthday."

He did get it down, eventually. But right up until he started the temporal jump, I never got to eat a single one.

Actually, in my last life, I never went to this party at all. Chloe and I were barely more than nodding acquaintances, and I'd never planned to join in. I was back in my dorm, listening to my drunk roommate gossip about the "gorgeous ice-cold guy" who'd shown up late and stunned the whole party.

I wasn't interested in other people's love lives, so I didn't even ask his name. It wasn't until much later, after Arthur and I moved in together and I found a photo of them in his desk drawer one day, that I realized the cold ex-boyfriend from the rumors and the man in front of me were the same person.

I didn't care about his past. After all, who doesn't have something they keep in the dark?

But now, time had been forcibly reset.

The heavy bass from the dance floor thudded against my chest. I picked up a glass of champagne from the table, downed it in one go, and with that little boost of courage pushed open the glass door to the deck. The Long Island night wind, salty from the sea, rushed into my collar and blew away the dreamlike haze.

I stood out in the cold wind for a long time. When I finally pulled the half-closed glass door open to go back inside, most of the partygoers had left.

I stopped behind the door.

Through the dim hallway, I saw Arthur on one knee beside a velvet sofa. Chloe was passed out drunk, and the physics genius who'd always been so untouchable was carefully holding her hand against his cheek.

His low voice cut through the leftover haze of alcohol and slammed clearly into my ears.

"I didn't know how to love before, and I broke your heart. Now I've finally learned."

As long as he wanted to learn something, as long as he was willing to put in the work, there really was no problem in the world he couldn't solve. Including how to love someone perfectly.