I spoke up again. "I'm really not joking. I'm getting engaged next month."

Tristan froze. He said he'd assumed I was just making excuses.

My brother chimed in with a grin.

"None of you knew? My little sister moves fast. And with a face like hers, what man wouldn't be wrapped around her finger?"

Tristan stood there, stunned, draining one glass after another.

He cut in abruptly.

"Stop making things up. Your sister's still single. Saying stuff like that will only hurt her reputation."

Then he dragged Myron back to keep drinking.

I sat in the corner, bored, flipping through songs on my phone.

A while later, Tristan suddenly left for the restroom. My phone buzzed. A text from him.

"Come out for a second."

I hesitated, then went.

The moment I reached the hallway outside the restroom, someone grabbed my arm hard and pulled me into a corner.

Tristan's eyes were rimmed red, fixed on me.

"Engaged? You really know how to get under my skin."

"This is just because I didn't kiss you earlier, isn't it? You don't have to be this jealous."

He reached up and gently smoothed my hair, the corner of his mouth lifting as he leaned in to kiss me.

Looking at the face I'd loved for eight years, all I could see was the image of him kissing Tessa, replaying over and over behind my eyes.

My stomach turned violently.

I stiffened and turned my head away.

"I'm not. I don't have the right to be jealous."

Eight years underground. That was what we'd been.

Nobody besides the two of us knew we were together.

Not even Myron, his closest friend, my own brother. Tristan had never once told him.

Every time we met felt like an affair.

I was sick of it. I'd tried again and again to go public.

What girl doesn't want her boyfriend to claim her in front of the whole world?

But every hope fell through, and all that accumulated was disappointment.

"Doreen!"

The smile drained from Tristan's face. "Are you avoiding me?"

"You've had too much to drink."

Just then, Tessa's voice carried over from nearby.

"Where's Tristan? I just saw him right here."

The instant he heard her voice, Tristan let go of my hand.

"Go back inside first."

Tessa had drunk too much. She was outside retching, crying out Tristan's name between heaves.

He glanced over, expression flat, and turned to walk away.

"Tristan, please don't leave me..."

Her sobbing voice stopped him in his tracks.

He exhaled softly. In the end, he caved. He stayed by her side, patting her back now and then.

"Let it out."

"You'll feel better once it's all up."

Then something seemed to occur to him. He scooped Tessa up and set her down on a nearby seat. "Wait here for me."

He jogged off and came back with a bottle in his hand.

"Here. Your favorite. Strawberry."

Tessa blinked, then broke into a teary smile.

"Eight years, and you still remember that I love strawberry."

So the one who loved strawberry had always been Tessa.

That was why he always bought strawberry cake.

Even the scented sachets tucked inside his closet were strawberry.

My eyes burned. I tore my gaze away and walked fast back toward the private room.

The party dragged on until one in the morning.

Tessa was slumped across the table, drunk, her fingers still clutching the hem of Tristan's jacket.

He didn't shake her off. Instead, he slipped his coat from his shoulders and draped it over hers.

And I, his actual girlfriend, sat in the corner watching him take care of another woman.

Nobody around them batted an eye.

"Tristan's still so attentive with Tessa."

"Looks like something's brewing tonight, boys. Should we clear out?"

Tristan lifted his head and glanced at me. Panic flickered in his eyes, along with something close to a plea.

He was begging me not to make a scene.

Not to expose him. Not now.

I lowered my gaze, drained the last sip from my glass, and stood.

"Myron, I'm heading home."

Myron frowned at me. "How much did you drink? Your face is bright red. Let me drive you."

"No need. I already called a ride."

"It's too late for that. I'll have Tristan take you. He barely drank tonight."

Tristan looked up at the mention of his name, about to speak, but Tessa curled drowsily around his arm.

"Tristan, don't go..."

The room erupted in catcalls again.

Myron cleared his throat, visibly awkward. "Forget it. I'll take her myself. You guys keep going."

I followed my brother out of the private room. He walked ahead of me, then stopped and turned around.

"Doreen. Something's off with you tonight."

I looked away. "Is it?"

"Yeah."

Myron turned to face me fully, his eyes locked on mine. "When Tristan kissed Tessa, you cried."

My chest seized. I shook my head quickly. "No, I didn't. Something just got in my eye."

"Cut the crap. I'm your brother. You can fool everyone else, but not me."

Myron's brow creased, his tone turning serious.

"Do you have feelings for Tristan?"

My mouth opened. Nothing came out.

Feelings didn't begin to cover it.

We'd been together for eight years in secret, and he never once had the courage to bring us into the light.

"Doreen, I've warned you before. You can fall for any one of my friends. Anyone except Tristan. He—"

"Myron, stop guessing. I just drank too much and felt sick."

Myron studied me for a long time, then let out a sigh.

"Fine. Get in. I'll take you home."

After I got back, I showered and lay in bed, staring at my phone for a long time. The screen was perfectly still. Not a single message.

Every other late night, Tristan would text to ask if I'd gotten home safe.

Tonight, nothing.

He was busy taking care of Tessa. Why would he spare a thought for me?

Eight years at his side, and the moment his first love walked back in, every bit of it counted for nothing.

So why keep wasting my time?

I hesitated for a long while before I finally typed out a single line and hit send.

"Tristan, let's break up."

The message went through. I powered off my phone, pulled the covers over my head, and forced myself to sleep.

The next morning, the second I turned my phone back on, it blew up.

Over a dozen missed calls from Tristan. More than thirty messages.

The last one read: "I'm downstairs."

I pulled back the curtain. His car was parked below my building.

He was leaning against the driver's side door, smoking.

I hesitated, then went downstairs anyway.

Eight years deserved at least a proper ending.

The moment he saw me come out, Tristan crushed the cigarette and crossed the distance in quick strides.

"Dee, you're finally willing to see me."

"Just hear me out. Last night, I was only—"

I cut him off.

"Tristan, you don't need to explain."

"You got my message last night. We're done."

His head snapped up, shock written plain across his face.

"Dee, is this because of last night? Or because I never went public with us?"

"I told you, last night was just a game. I was only trying to get back at Tessa—"

I tugged at the corners of my mouth and looked at him, calm as still water.

"If a game is all it takes for you to kiss another woman in front of everyone, then what were these eight years to you?"

Tristan frowned and tried to explain.

"Dee, you know my history with Tessa. She dumped me in college for some trust-fund kid. That's always been a sore spot. So when she showed up out of nowhere last night, I just... I wasn't over it."

My eyes burned as I cut him off.

"You weren't over it, so you kissed her, held her, draped your jacket over her shoulders? And me? Your actual girlfriend was sitting in the corner, and you didn't even glance my way."

"I was afraid your brother would find out—"

"Enough."

I couldn't listen to another word. "It's always about my brother finding out. You've been hiding behind that excuse for eight years. Aren't you tired of it?"

Tristan went quiet, his eyes dropping to the ground like a child caught doing something wrong.

Every time he'd made that face before, I'd softened.

Not this time.

"Tristan, we're done."

I turned and walked away.

He grabbed my wrist. "Dee, can you really bring yourself to end this?"

"There's nothing left to hold on to."

When I got home, I dug out every single thing Tristan had ever given me.

Necklaces, handbags, clothes, stuffed animals.

I shoved them all into a garbage bag and threw the whole thing in the dumpster.

Then I pulled up his contact information.

If it was going to end, it was going to end completely.

For two straight weeks, I didn't see Tristan once.

Some nights, glancing out the window without thinking, I'd spot him standing below my building, waiting.

I never responded. I just pulled the curtains shut.

Until the day I left my job.

Tristan was waiting downstairs outside my office building.

He looked worse than before. Dark circles carved hollows beneath his eyes, and the rims were red as he stared at me.

"Dee, why have you been avoiding me all this time?"

"I know I was wrong. If you want to go public, we'll go tell your brother right now—"

I pulled free of his grip. "It's too late."

I turned and left.

Tristan stood rooted to the spot, his voice raw. "Too late? What does that mean..."

But no one was there to answer him anymore.

Over the next two weeks, Tristan searched for me like a man losing his mind.

He even showed up at my brother's company, fishing for any news about me.

Myron didn't know we'd been together, but he could tell something was off.

None of that reached me, though. What I heard was that Tristan and Tessa had gotten back together, spending more and more time side by side, going to the hospital together, shopping together.

One evening Myron came home, sat down on the couch, and studied me for a long time.

"Doreen, what's going on between you and Tristan?"

My expression didn't shift. "Nothing. Why?"

"He keeps coming to me, beating around the bush trying to ask about you."

Myron fixed me with a scrutinizing look, brow furrowed.

"One minute he's asking if you're seeing someone new. The next he wants to know if you've been in a good mood lately. When I ask him flat out if he's got feelings for you, he denies it."

I lowered my gaze. "Maybe he's just being friendly."

"Friendly, my ass."

Myron scoffed. "That guy never once asked me about you before. All of a sudden he can't stop? Something's going on."

I was quiet for a moment, unsure what to say.

"Doreen, be straight with me. Are you and Tristan hiding something from me?"

Myron's eyes were dead serious. So serious I couldn't hold his gaze.

"Myron, stop overthinking this. There's nothing going on between me and Tristan."

Myron studied me for a long time before finally letting out a sigh.

"Fine. If you don't want to talk about it, I won't push. But remember one thing: no matter what happens, I'm your brother. I will always be on your side."

"Besides, didn't you already agree to the engagement with Dominic Harrington?"

"The ceremony's set for next month in Bali, barring any surprises. Buy your ticket in the next few days and head out early. Treat yourself to a vacation first."

I nodded. "Okay. I've pretty much finished packing. I'll leave tomorrow."

"Dominic said he'd fly back tomorrow to pick me up."

The next evening, once Myron confirmed I was already on my flight, he deliberately called Tristan and invited him out to dinner.

Tristan brought Tessa along.

Myron looked at the two of them, amusement glinting in his eyes, and spoke up on purpose.

"My sister flew to Bali. She's probably out of the country by now."

Tristan's head snapped up, his face drained of color. He grabbed Myron by the collar.

"What did you just say? Why is she going to Bali?"