Chapter 2
But every year on Cecily's birthday, he ordered her the most expensive cake he could find, switching brands each time just to keep it new.
I didn't reply again.
I shut the door and walked straight down the stairs in one breath.
The deep-winter air stung until my eyes went red at the rims.
Passing a trash can,
I worked the ring I'd worn for ten years off my finger,
and dropped it in.
A $2 promise ring with free shipping, and yet for all those years I'd treasured it like something precious.
I took a cab to the bank and pulled out every cent on my card just before closing.
Then I opened a new card and put the money into that instead.
Once that was done, I took another cab to the biggest mall in Northport.
First I went to the brand-name bakery on the ground floor and picked out the most expensive cake they had,
then I ordered a full set menu at the hot pot place.
The staff gathered around and sang me happy birthday. I cut the cake and saved the biggest slice for myself.
When I got home,
Tristan called on video to inform me:
"There's a homeless guy hanging around near Cecily's place, and she's just a little thing who scares easily. I won't be coming home to sleep tonight."
Cecily looped her arms around his neck, grinning.
"Wallis, you always spoil me the most. Tonight I'm putting your boyfriend on my couch to stand guard over a damsel in distress!"
She knew, too, that I spoiled her the most. Seven years of friendship, and I'd never once turned down anything she asked.
Tristan toyed with Cecily's hand and reminded me to lock the doors and windows on my own.
Cecily patted his cheek.
"Relax, my Wallis is the bravest of anyone!"
I'm not actually brave.
When we first moved out to the suburbs, there were a few nights I got off work too late and someone followed me home. Terrified, I cried about it to Tristan, and he said I made a fuss over nothing, jumping at shadows. In the end I had to order pepper spray and a little stun gun online myself and carry them every day.
I even comforted myself that he just wasn't the delicate type, that he didn't know how to worry over people.
But it turned out it wasn't that he couldn't worry over people. He just couldn't be bothered to worry over me.
I swallowed the bitterness rising in my chest and pulled up a smile.
"Right, I'm brave. You two do whatever you like."
Then I hung up on them while they stared, stunned.
I started taking stock of the birthday gifts Tristan had given me over the years.
A red string bracelet from a street stall, a phone case that shipped free, cheap knockoff earbuds.
He said our Wallis was the practical sort, that instead of buying flashy junk we should save the money for a house.
Yet the moment it was Cecily's birthday, he'd given her a Van Cleef & Arpels signature bracelet, the full SK-II skincare line, and the newest iPhone Pro Max in the 1TB version.
Shocked and furious, I'd confronted him, and he'd cupped my face and said,
"Baby, being good to your best friend is only to give you face."
"See how much thought I put in for you? Why don't you chip in some money too, so I can buy the gifts."
I threw every one of those cheap gifts into the trash,
then calmly dialed my father's number.
"That arranged match you mentioned before, I agree. I'll come back to Harbor City to meet him."
On my way to work the next day, a local video popped up in my feed.
Shot from a bystander's angle, inside an LV store, Tristan attentively helping his best friend try on a bag.
The caption read: Such a sweet couple! Who's the 6'2" lean, hot guy she's dating?!
So it turned out that while I was spending my birthday night alone, he was out shopping with my best friend.
I stared at that video over and over, and in the end I gave it a like.
At the office, I told my manager I was quitting, agreeing to leave in a week.
Back at my desk, a work friend I got along with cradled her water cup and asked quietly,
"Why'd you suddenly decide to leave? Weren't you just saying yesterday you wanted to save up to buy your boyfriend a computer?"
The video of strangers gushing about the sweet couple flashed through my mind.
I tugged at the corner of my mouth, though no smile reached my eyes.
"He's already someone else's boyfriend now. So naturally there's nothing for me to buy."
Chapter 3
An hour before I got off work, Tristan called.
"Is something going on with you today?"
"No. Why?"
"Then how come you haven't texted or called me?"
I let out a dry laugh.
The truth was, I hadn't thought about him once all day.
The old me couldn't have stood it for a single moment if he stayed out overnight at another woman's place. I'd have called him crying, refused to let it go.
"Did you need something?" I shot back.
Tristan's voice turned awkward.
"Don't take the subway. I'll come pick you up after work."
Ever since he bought the car, he'd never once given me a ride, claiming I needed to keep a low profile at work. He always seemed to have time to drop Cecily off, though, "since it was on the way."
"Oh. Sure."
When I opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat,
Tristan was staring at his phone, typing, a sweet smile on his face, not even lifting his head.
My father called, and I answered right there.
He asked whether I'd finished arranging my resignation, and when I'd be coming back.
"It's all set. A week from now works."
After I hung up, Tristan finally set down his phone and looked up.
"A week from now works for what?"
"Nothing."
I brushed aside a piece of pink lace lingerie on the passenger seat, picked up a book, and started flipping through it.
Tristan scrambled to clean everything up,
stumbling over his words as he explained,
"You know how it is. Cecily's a little scatterbrained."
I nodded vaguely and said nothing.
Then he fumbled with the stereo and put on music, English songs, the kind Cecily liked.
He skipped one track, still an English song. Skipped again, same thing.
"Don't bother. Anything's fine," I said, impatient.
Tristan's hand froze, the smile locked on his face.
"Wallis, you seem different. You always used to care most about this kind of thing."
I was about to reply when his phone rang.
He took the call, then hesitated before telling me to get out.
"Cecily's cramping, it's her time of the month. I have to go buy her some medicine. You've always felt for her, right?"
I drew in a deep breath and stared straight at him.
"Tristan, do you still remember whose boyfriend you are?"
He flushed with shame and turned it into anger.
"What does that have to do with whose boyfriend I am! Wallis, when did you get so vicious?"
"I said, get out! Don't keep Cecily waiting!"
Of course. When you talk to someone who doesn't love you, every word is a waste of breath.
I got out without a word, and the car peeled off at once.
It was already past ten at night when Tristan got home.
He handed me a little cake with a grin.
"Don't be mad, baby."
Sea-salt cheese cake with crushed peanuts.
Cecily's favorite flavor.
I glanced at him.
"I'm allergic to peanuts."
The kind of allergy that can kill you if it's bad enough.
His expression changed dramatically.
"I'm sorry, I forgot…"
This was the man who used to pick every last sprig of cilantro out of my food, and now he'd forgotten I was allergic.
As if to make up for it, he pulled out a gift box,
said it was a present he and Cecily had gotten together to make up for the missed occasion.
I looked down. An LV silk scarf lay quietly inside,
as if mocking the ten years of real feeling I'd wasted.
I gave a sarcastic little smile, pulled up the video I'd liked that morning, and showed it to him.
His face went red, then green.
"Cecily's in grad school, she deserves a nice bag. Do you really have to compete with her?"
"Take the scarf or leave it, I don't care!"
He spun away in a huff to shower, slamming the bathroom door hard enough to rattle it.
His phone buzzed where he'd left it on the couch. I glanced down.
【Cutest Cecily in the Universe: Is it okay to give Wallis the freebie? I really do love that bag, though.】
【Tristan: It's fine. The freebie cost money too. It's more than good enough for her.】
Chapter 4
Somehow it didn't surprise me much,
yet why did it feel like a great hole had been torn open in my chest, blood welling out of it?
Tristan stayed in the living room until the middle of the night,
then came to bed and wrapped his arms around me from behind.
This was his way of admitting he was wrong. In the past, whenever he did this, I'd soften without a shred of principle and forgive him. But this time his embrace only made my whole body ache.
I gently pulled myself free of him.
He seemed not to have expected it. He paused for a moment, then took his pillow and went out to the living room.
The couch was hard and narrow. In the past, I couldn't bear to let him make do with it, and I'd be the one to give in and coax him back to bed with me.
But this time, I found I couldn't muster the faintest strength to walk toward him.
When Tristan woke a little after nine, I was tidying up in the living room.
The first thing out of his mouth was to ask where breakfast was.
Tristan had a bad stomach and couldn't stand going hungry. In the past, even after a fight, I'd get up early every weekend to have a meal ready, waiting for him to wake so we could eat together.
But today, without so much as a blink, I answered him:
"I've already eaten. If you want something, make it yourself."
Seeing the hurt and surprise in his eyes, I felt nothing at all.
Cecily sent a message to our little group chat, the three of us:
【This couples' restaurant is really famous! Let's all go for lunch!】
Tristan shot me a sulky look and replied:
【Just the two of us! We'll get the couples' set—Wallis is busy, no time~】
In the past, at a moment like this I'd have been terrified of him being alone with Cecily, and I'd have argued my case, clinging to him until he took me along. Then he'd have used it to end the fight, graciously making up with me.
But this time, I only freed up a hand to type:
【Right, I'm busy. You two go.】
Tristan dragged out getting himself ready, then lingered around me for a long while. Seeing that I still wouldn't be the first to speak, he stormed off in a huff, slamming the door.
It was past three in the afternoon by the time I had everything packed up, then contacted the courier to ship it away.
Tristan, who never posted online, broke his own rule and put up a sweet couple photo of him and Cecily, the couples' restaurant in the background.
I knew he was waiting for me to call and confront him, the way I had so many times before. Then he'd give his helpless explanation that she was just a friend, and send me an address to come join the fun.
But this time, I only felt tired and fed up, with no interest in playing along.
Tristan didn't come home that night. He called around noon the next day and coldly pressed me:
"When can you give Cecily the money for the house?"
I flatly refused:
"I won't. I never said I'd give it to her."
After a moment, he let out a scornful little laugh, plainly mocking:
"Making a scene again, Wallis. See, this is more like you."
"Here's what we'll do. This afternoon I'll take you to a movie, all right? After the movie you give Cecily the money."
I stared, baffled. Was he even listening to a word I said?
A helpless sense of talking past each other came over me.
"Fine, we'll deal with it there." A breakup had to be said to his face, after all.
By the time I arrived, Tristan was already waiting with a tub of popcorn.
Tristan tried to take my hand; without a flicker of expression, I shook him off.
The movie began. It was one I'd once looked forward to, yet all I felt was bored, drowsy.
Seeing me drift off, Tristan started to say something,
then glanced at his phone and slipped away, never coming back.
When the movie let out and I walked outside the mall,
and saw the two of them cozied up together, sharing a single ice cream,
what I felt instead was that I'd expected exactly this.
They, on the other hand, looked a little stunned.
Cecily pushed Tristan's hand off her waist and hurried over to take mine, explaining:
"Wallis, I just wanted to try a new ice cream flavor! You're not going to be angry, are you?"
I shook her hand off, sick to my stomach.