I stood frozen for a long moment.

Eventually, I snapped the diary shut and walked toward the snack street.

Twelve years had passed. The humble wonton stall had evolved into a proper shop, and the proprietress's hair was now streaked with gray.

Class was in session at the university, so the shop sat empty. After setting the steaming bowl before me, the proprietress didn't leave. She pulled out a chair and settled across from me instead.

"You two are quite a pair," she mused. "Amy came by last month, all alone."

My head snapped up. I stared at her, starving for any scrap of information about Amy before she passed.

The proprietress smiled warmly and handed me a pair of chopsticks. "She said you were buried in work. Missed the taste of my cooking, so she came by herself." She tilted her head. "What about today? Why isn't she with you?"

She leaned in slightly. "Don't mind an old woman prying, but did you two have a spat? She'd lost a lot of weight last time I saw her."

"You two were inseparable back in school. She's such a good girl—you mustn't let her down. I still remember back then..."

Her voice turned soft, nostalgic.

My thoughts drifted with it.

Back then, we were broke. The budget for our weekend dates came from the living expenses I saved by skipping meals. Whenever we ate here, Amy would transfer more than half her wontons into my bowl.

"I already ate at the cafeteria," she would lie. "I'm too full."

During our poorest days, we could only afford a single bowl to share. Amy would insist she wasn't hungry, watching me eat with that gentle smile on her face.

I remembered my senior year internship. Right here, at this tiny stall, I looked at the girl laughing and chatting across from me, and I made a solemn vow.

*Amy, I promise you a good life.*

*For the rest of my life, having Amy is enough for Dominic Delgado.*

The vow still echoed in my ears.

But that girl would never forgive me again.

When I snapped back to reality, the proprietress had moved on to greet other customers. Perhaps the wontons were too hot; the rising steam blurred my vision.

I gripped the chopsticks and mechanically shoveled the scalding wontons into my mouth, one after another, until my throat refused to swallow anymore.

It hurt.

God, Amy, it hurt so much.

*I'm begging you—let me see you one more time.*

*Just one last look. Please.*

I left the shop and wandered aimlessly through the snack street, lost. Finally, I stood at the university gate for a long time before opening the diary again.

*"I've decided to start my own business. Relying on a meager salary, when will I ever be able to give Amy a good life?"*

*"Amy told me today she found a place with rent that's only $300 a month—cheap and decent."*

*"I went to see it. It's clearly in the tenements. The environment is terrible. How can Amy live in a dump like that? I'm trash. Why am I so useless?"*

A memory sparked. I hailed a taxi and directed the driver to the urban village in the west of the city.

When I arrived, I stood in a daze.

So many years had passed, yet this place hadn't been demolished. Still broken. Still shabby. The ground slick with sewage and refuse, a chaotic web of electrical wires choking the sky above the narrow alleys.

I stopped in front of a gray, dingy building. For a moment, my courage failed me.

The top floor. The sixth floor.

That was where Amy and I lived after graduation.

We called that place home for three full years.

We were fresh graduates with barely a penny to our names. I was hell-bent on starting a business, and Amy did everything she could to support me.

In the beginning, the business was a money pit. Amy worked two day jobs and washed dishes at a restaurant by night. We lived in the grime and chaos of the tenements simply to survive.

Why the top floor?

Because it was the cheapest—$100 less than the fifth floor.

I hated watching her climb those six flights of stairs every day. I wanted to cut costs elsewhere to get her a better place.

But my girl just smiled and waved off my concern.

"Living is living, isn't it? It's only $300 a month. You need capital right now. If we can save, we save."

"Don't feel sorry for me. Think of this as an investment. When you strike it rich, you can pay me back a thousandfold."

"Don't look at this place like it's a prison. Believe me—I won't let myself suffer."

Later, that tiny, three-hundred-square-foot studio became our sanctuary.

Warm, cute bedding.

Floors scrubbed spotless.

A plastic bottle repurposed as a vase, always holding fresh flowers on the small dining table.

Amy had her own ways of showing me how much she loved our home.

How much she loved me.

Suddenly, the diary vibrated in my hands.

I flipped it open fast. A new line of text appeared.

*"Old Dominic, let me ask you: did you buy Amy a big house? Did we find a better home?"*

Tears splashed onto the paper. My hand trembled as I wrote my reply.

*"I bought it. The most exclusive community in River City. The penthouse in the King's Tower."*

Across time, the other Dominic seemed to sigh in relief. The handwriting that followed became wild, almost ecstatic.

*"Hahaha, that's right! My girl is the best girl in the whole world."*

*"She deserves the best of everything!"*

*Thwack!*

Something heavy smashed into the back of my head.

A furious voice exploded behind me.

"Dominic Delgado, you scum!"

"What right do you have to be here?"

PROLOGUE

I found out my husband spent thirty-five thousand dollars to buy his mistress a new pair of breasts.

I didn't scream.

I didn't cry.

Instead, I bribed the surgeon to swap the high-end silicone for rubber chickens.

Real ones.

At the Aurora Charity Gala, in front of the city's elite, she tripped on her designer heels.

And she squawked.

Loudly.

Now #SqueakyBoobs is trending number one worldwide.

And the cheating scum and his cheap tramp?

Their lives are officially over.