Chapter 2

"They just arrived today," the deep voice on the other end replied. "Classic ivory, just like you asked. Are you sure about this, Seren?"

"I've never been more sure," I whispered.

I hung up the phone.

When I got back to the condo, I collapsed onto the couch.

I stayed there in the dark for a long time, staring at the ceiling, before finally dragging myself toward the bedroom.

Passing the second bedroom, my feet stopped.

Four years ago, when we put down the joint down payment on this place, this was supposed to be the nursery.

Now, there was no baby.

Just stacked Amazon boxes, dusty luggage, and discarded junk.

I stepped inside.

Buried in the corner was a white wooden crib we’d bought on sale years ago, now coated in a fine layer of dust.

Tucked inside the mattress frame was a thick stack of keepsakes I hadn't touched in months.

Handwritten notes from our garage startup days. Indie movie stubs. Music festival wristbands. Faded road trip receipts. A stack of Polaroids from every anniversary.

The one at the very bottom was from our college graduation.

He was giving me a piggyback ride under the blooming cherry trees on campus, and my arms were wrapped tight around his neck.

The wind was whipping my hair across my face, both of us laughing like we owned the world.

On the back, his messy handwriting read:

Carrying you for the rest of our lives. That’s a promise.

The dim light from the hallway hit the ink, casting cold, sharp shadows over the words.

It felt like a silent slap in the face.

Suddenly, the electronic lock on the front door clicked open.

The front door swinging shut.

His footsteps, deliberate and quiet, as if trying not to wake me.

A moment later, the nursery door creaked open.

Russell leaned against the frame, his jacket slung over one shoulder. "Still awake?"

I didn’t turn around. I stayed crouched by the crib. "Yeah."

"What are you doing going through all that?" His tone was light, casual. "Feeling nostalgic?"

I didn't answer his question. I just kept my eyes on the photo in my hands. "Did she get home safe?"

Russell paused. A beat of hesitation before he spoke. "Yeah. Dropped her right at her door. Lila lives way out in the suburbs, and Uber was surging like crazy."

"Right."

I looked down, carefully squared the edges of the Polaroids, and slid them back into the stack.

"It's late. Come to bed," he said. He stepped forward and reached a hand out to pull me up.

I didn’t take it.

Instead, I pressed my hands against the rail of the crib and pushed myself up.

My legs had gone completely numb from crouching, and I swayed for a second before catching my balance.

"Russell."

He paused on his way back out toward the hallway. "Yeah?"

"I'm done. We're breaking up."

He stopped in his tracks.

He stared at me for two full seconds, then let out a low, amused chuckle.

He reached up, tugging his silk tie loose. "Are you still sulking about the bouquet at the wedding? Don't be petty, Seren."

"Look, I'll order you an even bigger arrangement tomorrow, okay? Peonies, your favorite. Now go wash your face and get some sleep. I've got a pitch meeting with investors at eight tomorrow morning."

He turned his back on me and started walking toward the master bathroom.

"One week," I said to his back.

My voice wasn't loud, but there was no room for doubt. "I am getting married."