Henry sighed, grabbed a cigarette from the nightstand, and lit up.

I wanted to stop him. Again. But what was the point? I'd told him a million times—no smoking in the bedroom, laundry goes in the hamper, take out the trash before you leave.

He never listened. Maybe because I never made him.

I was done. If he wasn't gonna change, I'd walk away.

"Lulu, you seriously need to chill. Who else would even put up with you?" He flicked ash onto the floor like he owned the place. "And can you quit acting like Cece's your mortal enemy?

"You're my girlfriend, she's my friend—I need you both in my life. So drop the breakup talk."

He thought this was just another jealous tantrum. He had no clue I meant it.

***

Henry was already gone when I woke up.

I grabbed my phone—one new friend request.

Right. The guy my mom mentioned last night. I'd forgotten to add him, but Joe Arden beat me to it.

[The wedding is set for ten days from now. If that feels too rushed, we can postpone.]

Henry had wrecked my trust in people. I wasn't about to hand over my heart just to have it shattered again.

[That's fine. We'll go with whatever works for you.]

I put my phone away and headed to the office to wrap up my resignation. Since I'd been the one paying rent, I listed the apartment online before heading home.

Then Henry's name flashed on my screen.

"Lulu, come to Aether Lounge. I need to talk to you. It's important. Hurry."

He sounded tense, but in the background, Cecilia and his friends were laughing, clinking glasses.

Thanks to his drinking buddies, Henry had been MIA at work for months. At this rate, he was bound to lose everything.

"Fine. I have something to tell you too."

I grabbed a ride and headed straight there.

The second I stepped into the private room, noise crashed over me. Henry had his arm around Cecilia's waist, only letting go when he saw me.

"Well, well, look who came running the second Henry called. The ultimate simp."

"Did you guys hear? Henry proposed to her with a can tab! Can you believe it?"

Laughter filled the room. My humiliation, their entertainment.

I didn't even glance at them. Just walked straight to Henry. His face was flushed from alcohol, his usual pale complexion tinged pink.

"Lulu," he said, pointing at a glass on the table. "You love me the most, don't you?"

I let out a cold laugh. "Just get to the point."

His soft expression flickered, sharpening into something unreadable. Then he picked up the glass and held it out to me.

"Cece lost a round of truth or dare. You know she's allergic to alcohol, so you drink for her. You've done it plenty of times before—one more won't hurt."

So he did remember.

Back when he was clawing his way up, drowning in business dinners, I had been there. I watched him drink himself sick, vomit blood, destroy himself for success. And when it hurt too much to watch, I started drinking for him. Glass after glass, deal after deal.

His entire career was built on the drinks I took for him.

And now, he wanted me to drink—for Cecilia.