On the train home for the long holiday weekend, my suitcase jammed in the gap between the seats, and no matter how I yanked, it wouldn't budge.

Someone behind me reached out and lifted it free with one easy motion.

"A month of the silent treatment, and you still haven't talked yourself out of your mood?"

It was Phineas Sanchez, my childhood sweetheart.

He leaned against the side of the aisle, a cold little smile at the corner of his mouth.

I paused, and ignored him.

Unhurried, he stepped past me and kept walking, his voice lazy.

"Greta Fox, you've never lasted more than three days in a standoff before. This one's a record."

In the line at the exit, I tapped into a post titled "I Wronged a Girl 99 Times."

"The first time: out in public, I never held her hand, and the second I saw someone I knew, I let go of her. I'm sorry."

"The second time: whenever there was a problem, I ran from it and went cold on her. I watched her cry so many times and never once comforted her. I'm sorry."

"The third time: because of my selfishness, she took the morning-after pill four times in one week. I'm sorry."

"……"

"The ninety-ninth time: when she brought up marriage, I made her get rid of the baby. I'm sorry."

Underneath were comments.

"Every single line of this just gutted me."

"Guys don't reflect on stuff like this, so you're that girl, aren't you?"

I lifted my eyes. A little way ahead, Phineas's back was still as familiar as ever, still searing to look at.

Then I liked that comment.

The page refreshed, and beneath the comment it showed: "Liked by the author."

Phineas would never reflect, never apologize.

So this time, I wasn't going to look back either.

——

Outside the station, the rain came down harder and harder.

The rideshare app showed forty-seven people ahead of me in the queue.

Phineas's buddy had picked him up, and as the car passed in front of me, the buddy leaned out and called to me.

"Greta, get in. This rain isn't letting up anytime soon."

I didn't move.

The back window came down too. Phineas turned his head and looked at me, his tone flat. "Get in."

I turned my face away and pretended I hadn't heard.

His buddy gave a little laugh and teased, "Whoa. Quite the temper this time. Phineas, what'd you do to her?"

Phineas's gaze landed on me for two seconds. Then he spoke.

"Greta, the station's twelve miles from your place. You planning to walk?"

"I'll take a cab."

He held up his phone and laughed out loud. "Forty-seven people in line. You'll be waiting till tomorrow morning."

"That's my business."

The air went quiet for a beat.

His buddy smoothed it over. "All right, all right, Greta, just get in, we're all family here—"

"Who said she's family?"

Phineas said it suddenly, his voice neither soft nor sharp.

The window rolled up. His face had darkened.

"Drive."

The car pulled away.

An hour later, I finally got a cab.

Soaked through, shivering with cold.

My phone buzzed. A message from Phineas.

"It's just a cat. I already sent it back to my mom's to take care of. Is all this really necessary?"

I looked away, leaned against the window, and watched the rain run down the glass.

Our standoffs had never lasted this long before.

Three days, at most, before I'd find some excuse to text him.

Ask if he'd eaten. Ask if he was in a good mood.

He'd reply with a single "Mm," and I'd be happy for half the day, thinking he was finally willing to pay attention to me.

Lowly, ground down to dust.

But this time was different.

He was allergic to cat dander. All my life I'd begged him to let us have a cat together, and every time he'd said he couldn't.

Yet the moment Lacey was going abroad for a month, he carried that ragdoll cat back to his own apartment.

Took a whole box of allergy meds, and not a single word of complaint.

I asked him why, and he said, "It's just a favor. Do you really have to make a thing of it?"

Make a thing of it.

Five words, and every question I had was shoved right back at me.

As if I were the one being unreasonable.

When I got home, my mother saw me soaked to the bone and clucked over me, aching with worry.

"On a holiday, no less. What if you catch your death out there?"

She went to pour me some hot water, her mouth never stopping.

"Is Phineas seeing someone? A while back he left a cat at his mom's place for her to look after. One look and you can tell it's a girl's cat."

I peeled off my wet clothes. "Probably will be soon."

"For someone with allergies to keep a cat, that's got to be a girl he really likes... And you. You've trailed after him since you were little, and after all these years it never came to anything."

"Mom," I said suddenly, "I got an exchange-student spot."

"That's what I came home to tell you. I leave after the holiday."

"Does Phineas know?"

"No reason to tell him."

A few seconds of silence, and then her eyes went red. She came over and held me.

"All right. When you come back you'll be a student who studied abroad. We deserve the best."

I leaned against her shoulder and said nothing.

After my shower, I sat on the edge of the bed while my mother stood behind me, drying my hair.

"You and Phineas grew up together. You've been stuck to him since preschool. You tested into whatever high school he went to, you followed him to Northbridge, and when he went into the eight-year medical program, you stayed at school for grad studies just to stay with him."

Her voice was half-muffled under the hum of the dryer.

"Almost twenty years now, Greta. I just think you deserve the best in the world... I've always thought so."

I didn't say anything. My eyes went hot again.

She didn't know that Phineas and I had been together for five years already, from south to north, from spring to winter.

It was only that he had never once acknowledged I existed.

That evening, both families had dinner together.

The moment I walked in, the cat trotted over and rubbed its head against my shin.

I bent to look at it, but I didn't reach out.

Amelia Fox smiled. "Oh, Greta, have you seen this cat before?"

I remembered the day Phineas brought it home, the rare time he'd messaged me first with a photo.

"Don't you like cats?"

That one line kept me happy the whole day.

I'd thought he was finally willing to bend for me.

A man allergic to cat hair, willing to keep a cat. Wasn't that love?

Looking back now, it's almost laughable.

It was never for me.

I shook my head. "No, I haven't."

There was a stir at the door. Phineas came in with Lacey Doyle.

She spotted the cat at once and ran over to scoop it up. "Tubby! Mama missed you so much!"

Then she turned to Phineas. "Has he been good this whole time?"

Phineas glanced at me, then said, "Haven't I been sending you videos every day?"

Amelia caught on. "This is... your girlfriend, Phineas?"

The girl glanced at Phineas and waved a hand with a laugh. "Not yet. I'm just visiting relatives abroad, so I asked him to look after Tubby for a while."

Amelia heard what she meant and warmly insisted she stay for dinner.

Phineas said nothing. He only watched me.

I knew that look.

He was waiting to see how I'd react.

In the past, at a moment like this, I'd have gotten jealous, gotten upset, made a scene with him in private.

But today I just pulled out a chair, sat down, and poured myself a glass of water.

At the table, Amelia served the girl food twice.

The first time was cilantro, and he warned, "She doesn't eat cilantro."

The second time was shrimp. He stopped her. "She's allergic to seafood."

My mom glanced at me on instinct, her expression unreadable.

I kept my head down, eating my rice with great care.

Halfway through the meal, a downpour started outside.

Aunt Amelia said, "The rain's coming down hard. Why don't you just stay the night?"

The girl looked over at Phineas. He said nothing.

Aunt Amelia tried again. "Phineas, say something, would you?"

Phineas finally spoke, his voice flat. "There's no spare room."

My hand paused around my bowl. "She can have my room. I was going to clear it out anyway."

For as long as I could remember, I'd had a room of my own at the Sanchez house.

Phineas had set it up just for me. Every break, we'd spend most of our time holed up in that room, building Legos and watching cartoons together.

For years I'd believed that room would always be mine.

"Fine." He looked at me, his voice neither soft nor hard. "Use whatever's in there."

"Anything you don't like, just toss it."

Lacey glanced at me, then at Phineas, pressing her lips together and saying nothing.

Outside, lightning flashed again, thunder cracking right behind it.

I picked up a bite of greens and chewed slowly.

"Greta," Phineas said suddenly.

I lifted my eyes.

"You sure?" he asked.

"I'm sure."

He stared at me for two seconds, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly, and smiled.

I understood that smile. He was angry.

He turned to Lacey. "The room's at the end of the hall. I'll take you up later."

Lacey nodded sweetly. "Okay. Thanks, Phineas."

That night, the thunder rolled in wave after wave.

Every time lightning split the sky, I could feel my body trembling faintly.

The last time there was a storm like this, we'd fought over the cat again.

In the heat of it I'd said let's break up, and he only hesitated a moment before agreeing.

The next day I found out I was pregnant.

I'd squeezed myself into his arms and told him, "Let's get married."

He froze for a long time, then pulled me out of his embrace.

"You're despicable, pulling a stunt like this."

I thought he was just saying it in anger. I tugged at his sleeve. "Phineas, don't talk like that, okay?"

"I'm not joking with you."

He shook my hand off. "Neither am I. Trapping me into marriage with a trick like this. Doesn't it make you sick?"

"We just slept together for five years, that's all. Anything you can give, someone else can give too."

I stood frozen where I was, for a long time.

Then Lacey called, saying she'd landed at the airport.

He glanced at me, took the call. "I'm on my way."

The moment the door closed, thunder cracked outside.

I cried alone in the dark for a long, long time.

When I came off the operating table, Lacey's feed had just refreshed.

Phineas was crouched in the airport terminal, retying her loose shoelace, the caption just one line: 【Back home.】

The anesthesia hadn't fully worn off, the wound aching dully.

The enormous loss and the hurt came pouring out, and in that instant, I decided to give up on Phineas.

In the dark, a warm breath drew close, and I was pulled into an embrace.

His hand settled over my belly, his fingertips brushing softly, his voice low and rough.

"Almost three months along now, right."

I shoved him away hard and sat up.

Caught off guard, Phineas's tone was nothing but irritation.

"Greta, what's wrong with you?"

Outside, the thunder rolled again, and I flinched without meaning to.

He tilted his head, clicked his tongue, then got up and pulled the blanket back over where it had slipped off me.

"Go to sleep."