The smoke from his cigarette stung my eyes red. "What's that supposed to mean? You're calling that a proposal?"

"Didn't you always want to get married? Grandma's been hoping for it too."

Seventeen years together, and I'd always been so certain that one day Reuben would propose to me.

Maybe there'd be no romance, no flowers, but at least a gentle question,

a solemn moment that belonged to the two of us alone.

Instead he'd thrown it down like a bet on a game, and from start to finish he hadn't glanced at me once, hadn't asked what I wanted.

From the next table came idle chatter. "Team A's always been pretty weak. Didn't expect them to play out of their skin in the first half."

Reuben was a die-hard fan. He knew every team's strength better than anyone.

So when he staked Team A against me, was he betting they couldn't win?

"Go, Team B! Shoot! Goal!"

Fiona had wedged herself between me and Reuben, cheering at the screen. She turned back to remind me.

"Macy, you haven't forgotten our little bet? If Team B comes from behind, you hand Reuben over to me!"

"Not interested." My voice was flat.

She turned around and held out the beer she'd been drinking.

"Macy, don't be so rigid. Nobody likes a woman who's no fun."

I said nothing, and didn't take it.

"Right, Macy only drinks Hennessy. So my beer's beneath you, is that it?"

I looked at her coldly. "Yes. It's beneath me."

Fiona froze for a second, then stamped her foot, all wounded.

Without hesitation Reuben took the bottle from her hand and drank straight from it.

"Tastes good."

I gave a small shudder, something wrenching tight in my chest.

Reuben was a germophobe. He never touched anything someone else had drunk from.

Even when I accidentally drank from his glass, he'd swap it for a new one at once.

The two of them passed the bottle back and forth, finishing most of it between them.

Fiona's cheeks flushed with the drink, and she asked him in a soft, wheedling voice,

"Reuben, that bet I just made with Macy. What do you think of it?"

When Reuben looked at me, something like a struggle flickered in his eyes, then vanished back into his usual calm.

"Fine by me. Then neither of us has to decide. We leave it to the game."

"If we lose, we just weren't meant to be."

The bitter liquor went down.

It struck me then that I'd met Reuben because of a game too.

That year he was ten, and his mother had, for once, taken him to the park.

"Reuben, let's play hide-and-seek. You and your little brother go hide separately, and Mommy will come find you. Whoever stays hidden longest gets ice cream."

Reuben wanted to give the ice cream to his brother, so he hid on purpose in the most obvious spot.

But darkness fell, and his mother never came looking.

In the end, it was me who found Reuben curled up under a big tree, and brought him home.

His stepfather refused to take him back. Reuben had nowhere to go, and that was how Grandma took him in.

I had no parents either. It had always been just me and Grandma, leaning on each other.

We'd gotten by well enough on her pension before.

After Reuben came, Grandma was up before dawn and out till dark, running a market stall and collecting scrap.

Before long, the boy who'd been all skin and bones grew tall and solid.

When it was time for Reuben to start college, Grandma sold the only house she owned back home to scrape together his tuition.

Reuben held the cash, wrapped in an old cloth she'd folded around it, heavy in his hands, and his eyes went red all at once.

"Grandma, how can I ever repay you?"

Grandma smiled at him, tender. "If the day comes when I'm not around anymore, you take good care of Macy for me."

Reuben nodded hard. "Don't you worry. I'll be good to Macy for the rest of my life."

Just as he'd promised, he'd been good to me all these years. He gave in to everything, the perfect boyfriend in everyone else's eyes.

After his company took off, the first thing he did was buy a big house and move Grandma in with us.

Grandma hadn't been well lately, and she kept saying the same thing:

"Macy, sweetheart, when does Grandma get to drink at your wedding?"

Reuben used to agree without hesitation, every time.

But seven days ago, something changed. Her nudging started to wear on him.

My phone buzzed. I slipped quickly into the restroom to take the call.

"Macy, did Reuben propose to you today?"

"He did…"

"Good, good." Grandma's laugh on the other end broke into coughing. "All Grandma wants is to see you settled. The thought of leaving you on your own, I just can't rest easy…"

My eyes stung. "Grandma…"

My throat closed up. I couldn't get a word out.

Couldn't tell her Reuben had proposed by betting on a soccer match.

Couldn't tell her there was someone else in his eyes now.

"Grandma, don't worry."

I hung up in a hurry.

Back at the table, I grabbed my bag and turned to leave.

Reuben caught my wrist and stopped me.

"The match isn't over. Where are you going?"

"Home, to be with Grandma."

He forced down his irritation. "What's wrong now? Every time you're upset you use Grandma as an excuse?"

"You asked first. I only answered."

"Today's your birthday. We're all here for you. How does it look, you walking out now?"

"Grandma's home alone. I don't feel right about it."

"This match decides whether we get married, and you couldn't care less, is that it?"

I didn't dare watch the game anymore, didn't dare know the result.

In that moment I hated myself, because some part of me still quietly hoped Team A would win.

And yet I was terrified they actually would.

Seventeen years, side by side every day. I couldn't understand it. Seven days, and it was as if everything between us had changed.

I didn't dare stay any longer.

"Just tell me the result later."

I shook off his hand, picked up my bag, and turned to go.

Behind me, Fiona's voice carried over.

"Macy's leaving, just like that? Is it her bedtime or something? She really is like an old woman."

Reuben said flatly, "Leave her be."

A cheer went up across the bar, and I looked back without thinking.

Team A missed the goal. The score was tied, 1–1.

My gaze cut through the crowd to Reuben.

I saw it plainly. He let out a breath of relief.

So he was afraid Team A would win.

And he didn't want to marry me.

Outside the bar, there was a pastry shop not far off. Grandma loved their mung-bean cake.

I walked over to buy some.

The owner chatted while he boxed it up.

"Miss, that handsome young man who's always with you, he didn't come along today?"

I kept my voice even, answered politely.

"He's with someone else."

His hands paused, as if he wanted to comfort me but couldn't find the right words.

When he passed the bag into my hands, he couldn't help saying:

"No love is ever smooth sailing. Roots have to weather the storms to grow deep, and it's the same with feelings."

I gave a small nod.

I couldn't tell anymore whether what was coming at me was a storm, or just love already gone bad.

The moon above was dull and gray, more than half of it missing.

Nothing like seven days ago.

That night the moon had been full, its soft light falling across Reuben's face.

In one hand he carried the mung-bean cake we'd just bought, and with the other he held mine.

We strolled under the moonlight and passed this same bar.

Cheers from the fans inside drifted out, and Reuben couldn't help asking,

"Let's go in and watch too."

A quiet drink, easy talk, and the game he loved to watch—of course I wasn't going to say no.

We found a corner and sat down.

In the middle of the crowd a girl was shaking a beer hard, spraying it everywhere,

soaking her hair and clothes until they clung to a figure like a runway model's.

Her smile was bright and blazing,

and a spotlight fell over her, like a ball of fire in the dark.

Reuben stared, transfixed, unable to look away.

Fiona caught his gaze and walked straight toward us.

Red lips, white teeth, her smile bold and unhidden.

"Hey, handsome, which team are you rooting for? Pick mine, and there's a reward."

Before Reuben could answer, Fiona plucked the cigarette right out of his fingers, slipped it between her red lips, and took a deep, hard drag.

Reuben gazed at her in a daze, lost for words.

I used to not understand what it meant to fall for someone in a single glance. In that moment, I understood it completely.

Later we went home and lay back to back in bed.

Reuben, who hadn't posted in years, put up something new on social media:

"Love at first sight is the only true love. A moment's hesitation and it isn't real love anymore."

He and I had never been anything like love at first sight.

What we had grew slowly, day after day,

knit into flesh and blood.

Love at first sight is the only true love?

Then what were we?

I liked the post, and a second later he deleted it.

The days after that, I was busy with online meetings with overseas clients. Ever since I became Reuben's assistant, I'd handled most of the company's work.

He spent every day in the bar watching games.

We were each absorbed in our own things, and for the first time in seventeen years we had nothing to say to each other.

A car horn broke into the memory.

I turned my head. The familiar Maybach was stopped in front of me.

The rear window slid down, Reuben's brow tight.

"It's late. Why aren't you home? What are you doing wandering around out here?"

My chest tightened for no reason. "Is the game over?"

"Not yet. I was worried it wasn't safe for you to go back alone. Get in, let's go home together."

In the face of that faintly worried look of his, I pulled open the other door,

only to see Fiona slumped across Reuben's lap. She lifted her hand high and gave me a little wave.

"Macy! Surprise! I got off work early!"

My head went blank with a buzz.

Reuben explained to me as if nothing were wrong,

"Fiona's had too much to drink. Sitting beside me keeps her from getting carsick."

I let out a cold laugh. "I've heard riding shotgun helps with carsickness. Didn't know you cure it too."

I'd never liked arguing with anyone, but right then something rose up in me that I couldn't name.

I reached over, yanked Fiona off his lap, and shoved her straight into the passenger seat.

The moment Fiona saw the older driver beside her, she sat up straight.

Then she shot me a cold glance. "I'm going to throw up."

I answered flatly, "This car's been filthy for a while now. It doesn't matter."

Reuben gave me a look, his tone impatient.

"That petty, prickly streak you've had since you were a kid—can't you fix it? Fiona isn't like you. She's easygoing. She can't stand this side of you."

When we were children, people used to sneer that Reuben was a stray, a kid with no family.

I barely spoke as a child, but the moment I heard someone bullying Reuben, I'd march up and have it out with them, never minding the cost.

My classmates all said I had a strange temper, that I was small-minded, that I couldn't take a joke.

Only Reuben said it was cute of me.

And now, it had become petty too.

"Team A wins! Team A wins!"

Outside the car window, fans on the street broke into thrilled cheers.