William wanted to rush back.

I told him not to. It had already happened, and this trip mattered for his promotion. There was no reason to come home.

He hung up with his eyes rimmed red.

I sat there holding the phone, awake the whole night.

So it turned out he'd spent that whole night with his first love.

And the "high-maintenance" he'd just complained about left me dazed for a moment.

It turned out he'd been talking about me.

Tina's message popped up.

"Three days at the most and the house is gone. The buyer didn't even haggle."

I sent back a single "Good."

I drew in a deep breath, stood up, and dialed William's number as I walked.

Once, twice, three times—each ended without hesitation.

The fourth time, he picked up.

I said,

"Honey, I'm in Charleston. Surprise."

"I'm having dinner right now, at that place you've been going on about for years. The shrimp scampi really is amazing."

Crash!

William shot to his feet,

his head snapping around the room.

"You—you're here? Where are you sitting? Didn't I tell you Charleston's no fun?"

He shoved Imogen away, hard, like he was terrified of being seen.

Her face soured,

teeth catching her lip,

her eyes darting everywhere, hunting for whoever was on the phone in the restaurant.

I laughed softly.

"I was teasing. I'm not there."

William let out a breath, helped Imogen back up with something almost apologetic, smoothed down her dress.

Then he heard me go on.

"But I want to video call. I want to see whether you've been eating properly."

In the gap while the call switched from voice to video,

I heard Imogen rubbing her waist, complaining.

"Are you really that scared of her? So what if you get caught? Is she going to turn into some monster and swallow you whole? Or me?"

William made her crouch in a corner, one hand clamped over her mouth.

"My mom's still being treated at the hospital under her father's name, and she's at the critical stage right now."

So that was all it was.

I'd actually thought he might have remembered something he once said.

During the third phase of Lucy Simmons's treatment,

I went with William to visit her.

Lucy sent everyone else away and said to me,

"Freda, I know William isn't good enough for you. We're the ones reaching above ourselves."

"That boy—he's lazy, and he only puts his heart into a handful of people. If one day you find out that—"

"Mom, I will never wrong Freda."

William walked in and took my hand.

"And I'll never divorce her either."

Memory and the present overlapped, and I heard William say,

"Staying married is only a temporary measure."

The first second his face appeared on the screen,

I hung up.

My stomach heaved and heaved until I was sick.

I braced myself against the wall and threw up until the world spun,

wiped away the tears slipping from the corners of my eyes,

and pulled out the phone buzzing nonstop in my pocket.

"??"

"Why'd you hang up, babe?"

"Here, I'll send you a picture."

"It really was just dinner with a regular friend. He just left."

"Love you, Freda."

I cleared every message with one tap and opened the direct messages on the lifestyle app.

Imogen had sent me one a minute ago.

"Hi, Cloud Freda, are you still taking couples comics? I'd love to commission one about me and my boyfriend's story."

"We'll be using it in our wedding video."

I tapped the screen.

"I'll take it."

I sat in the cab, following William at an even distance, neither too close nor too far.

The driver noticed the mask on my face, the red at the corners of my eyes,

and couldn't help asking,

"That guy up ahead?"

I answered flatly.

"My husband. He's cheating."

The driver was furious on my behalf.

"These scumbags always leave traces when they cheat. Sweetheart, you really have to keep your eyes open…"

In the car ahead, the two of them were kissing,

and it pulled me back a few months,

to the night William got drunk.

I'd meant to silence his notifications, but my thumb hit his contacts instead.

The name pinned to the top had no label, just blank,

yet the thread under it ran on and on,

the last message three years old.

That was when I learned William knew how to keep a conversation going.

He could walk someone through what to eat for dinner, help her pick out earrings.

It seemed that whenever he wanted to, he could slip right into someone's life.

I scrolled up for a while, then my fingertip stopped.

"Imogen, this time it's really over."

"I'm getting married."

That was the night before our wedding.

That same night he'd pinned me against the window and kissed me for ten minutes,

until my lips went numb.

Half a year later,

Imogen asked him.

"Is it that you don't love me anymore, or that you can't love me?"

William replied.

"Can't."

The day he sent that was the happiest day of my life.

For our six-month anniversary,

William, who rarely bothered, cooked a whole spread with his own hands.

All the dishes I'd nagged him about for so long, the ones he'd never wanted to make.

Mom and Dad always said everyone had their little flaws,

and that a man like William was a good one.

That same good man

could finish telling me he loved me and then hold and kiss another woman.

Right now, I was nothing more than a stranger watching someone else's love story.

So I followed behind them like this,

down street after street of Charleston.

William had never once brought me back to the home soil that raised him,

and yet I knew it better than he did,

which brick had left the scar on his forehead,

which river he used to sneak into to catch fish.

Imogen put her hands on her hips and laughed without restraint.

"I still remember. That chubby kid wanted to hit me, and you blocked him for me and took a brick to the head. That scar on your forehead's from then, isn't it?"

"And then you were laid up for a few days, and I talked you into going down to the river to catch fish for me. You didn't catch a single one, and you took a fall too!"

The laughter in William's eyes spilled over.

I was standing less than ten yards from them,

listening to Imogen make William shout 'I love Imogen' at that little river.

What William didn't know

was that Imogen was forwarding me their memories almost in real time.

"Cloud Freda, I really hope you can draw these memories out well. They mean so much to us."

Of course. I'll draw them well.

It was a surprise for William.

That night, by the grass at the lakeside, William confessed to Imogen again.

The passersby, knowing nothing, cheered them on,

and Imogen flushed red, hand over her mouth as if she were about to cry.

"Immy, marry me."

In the crowd, someone had seen Imogen's posts too,

and recognized them at once.

"Who says you can't find love with your ex all over again?!"

"This is everything. Get together, get together!"

More and more people came, until it was a crush.

Suddenly I felt someone yank hard at the strap of my bag,

and I lost my balance and hit the ground.

Someone's heel came down on the back of my hand.

Through the splitting, bone-deep pain, someone shouted.

"Move back, someone's fallen!

A few more feet trampled over me,

and the ring slid right off my fourth finger.

"Immy, this way!"

I didn't look up, and still I knew whose shoe was on my hand.

I'd bought those shoes for him last week.

If he looked down right now, his eyes would meet mine.

Even though I'd played it out a thousand times over, I couldn't help but think,

What would William's face look like when he saw me.

But he never once looked down, never even turned his eyes my way.

He just walked off, holding Imogen's hand.

Only after the crowd had really thinned did I haul myself up, one whole side of me dusted with grass.

The ring was gone for good, swallowed into the dark.

I brushed the dirt and grass off myself,

and saw William a little way off, cradling Imogen's wrist, checking it over.

"This is my fault, I held on too hard. Does it hurt?"

Imogen smiled.

"It doesn't hurt. Just thinking that you're going to give me the wedding of my dreams makes it stop hurting."

"I know we can't really get married right now, but if you'll just walk through the whole thing with me once, it'll be enough to live on for half my life."

I watched them leave, and I photographed their backs, their joined hands,

and posted it to my feed.

"So it turns out there are people whose love is this beautiful."

Location: Charleston.

After I got into the car,

William called, his voice frantic.

"You really came to Charleston, where are you right now?"

"It's not that I didn't want you to come, but you could have let me pick you up."

I said nothing, which only made him more anxious.

"Immy, are you angry?"

"I just suddenly got into the historic-garden thing, so I came to take a look. I saw a couple just now who were really sweet, so I took a picture. Why?"

On his end, there was the hard click of a heel stamping the ground.

Imogen couldn't stand the way he treated me.

"Then in a few days we'll head home together?"

William asked, testing, like he was waiting for me to say something.

And I only said,

"Sure."

The second before I hung up, I heard Imogen shout.

"So she knows, she knows! Even if it's all out in the open, she's just one woman, she won't dare do anything!"

That's right. She knows, so she knows.

Sooner or later it had to come out anyway.

I wasn't angry. I just used my tablet to sketch the rough draft of the comic.

On the day of William and Imogen's dream wedding,

not many people came, all of them people who knew about the two of them.

Because I'd drawn the comic for Imogen,

she'd invited me to come watch as well.

I went in early and loaded the comic onto the projector.

Just then, William walked in holding Imogen's hand.

She had her arm looped through his, smiling like she was showing off.

"I hired this teacher off the lifestyle app who's amazing at drawing couples comics, and she came today too."

"She drew out our whole story. I bet you'll be moved to tears in a bit."

At first William was smiling too, until he turned his head and saw a familiar figure,

and his steps stopped cold.

Even his voice came out wrong.

"That artist you hired, what's her name?"

"She's called Cloud Freda... why that face, what's wrong with the name?"

As Imogen said it, she turned her eyes toward the projector,

and in an instant her face went ashen.

"What is this?!"

I turned around and pressed play.

Smiling, I said to them,

"Honey, why didn't you invite me to your wedding?"