I'd barely reached the doorway when I heard laughter from inside.

“Evelyn, I treated you like a joke back then. My ex and I drove a car into you. And you still love me? You're even divorcing that pushover husband of yours for me!”

I froze. Looked up. Saw what was happening inside.

Evelyn's expression stayed gentle the whole time. She spooned porridge to his lips without a word.

Winston seemed to get bored. He leaned in and kissed her.

She didn't pull away. She tried to deepen it.

But the next second he dodged back, mouth curling with contempt：“God, Evelyn. You're pathetic.”

She grabbed his shoulders and pressed her mouth to his.

Wet sounds filled the hospital room.

When she finally let go, her voice was breathless：“Yeah. I'm pathetic. Pathetic enough to fall for you. Pathetic enough to love you year after year after year.”

Year after year?

Since when does someone that shameless know how to love?

I pulled my lips into something that might pass for a smile and turned to leave.

That's when Winston spotted me.

He hooked an arm around Evelyn：“What about that pushover husband of yours? Don't you love him? The guy's been carrying a torch for you for ten years, after all.”

Evelyn's voice came out low and rough：“You said it yourself. A pushover. He's just a rebound for someone as rotten as me. You and I, though—we're made for each other.”

Winston laughed out loud and tipped his chin toward the door：“Well, look at that. Your rebound's standing right outside.”

Evelyn stiffened and turned to face me.

My nails dug into my palm. I forced a smile：“Just came to ask when you'd be available to sign the divorce papers.”

“If you have any conditions, just say the word.”

Evelyn handed the documents to me.

I flipped to the last page, signed my name, and smiled as I held them out to her：“It's fine. It's not like you could cheat me out of anything.”

Evelyn stared at the smile on the man across from her and felt an inexplicable sting.

But wasn't this exactly what she wanted?

Divorce. Then tie herself to that piece of garbage Winston for good.

She shook her head and looked down, ready to sign her name, when her phone rang.

She murmured an apology and stood to take the call.

Whatever was said on the other end changed her face completely, and she started for the door.

I grabbed the documents and blocked her path. “One signature. It'll take a few seconds.”

Evelyn's head snapped up, dark eyes locking onto mine.

I kept smiling. Kept the papers where they were.

She took the pen and scrawled her name in one sharp, impatient stroke.

“I've already contacted the records office. It'll be at least seven days before the divorce certificate comes through.”

Seven days.

I counted silently against the date of the wedding with the other woman.

Enough.

Back home, I mailed everything to Manhattan.

By the time I finished, it was already night.

I was about to turn in when the police called.

“Hello, is this Ms. Henson's husband? Your wife has been reported for false imprisonment and assault. We need you to come to the station.”

I didn't want to go, but the divorce wasn't final yet.

Fine. One last time.

When I got to the station, Evelyn's face was dark. Sitting next to her, grinning like this was all a game, was Winston.

An officer approached me the moment I walked in：“Do you know this gentleman? He claims Ms. Henson held him against his will, that he tried to escape and she dragged him back, and that she attempted to assault him in the car.”

Before I could speak, Evelyn cut in：“He's my fiancé. There was no imprisonment and no assault. We're in a legitimate relationship.”

As she spoke, she pulled out a yellowed piece of paper, carefully preserved despite its age.

Written on it, unmistakably, was a pledge Winston had given her the year they first got together.

She'd kept it perfectly preserved, pressed against her chest this whole time.

The officer's eyes went wide：“But isn't Mr. Delgado your husband?”

I gave an awkward laugh：“We're already divorced. Just haven't picked up the certificates yet.”

In the end, it turned out the whole thing was a false alarm.

By the time we left the station, it was the middle of the night.

Evelyn went to get her car.

That left just me and Winston.

He looked at me, then laughed out loud：“Connor, how have you not changed at all after all these years? Still the same lovesick fool chasing after Evelyn.”

I didn't say anything.

Winston kept going：“Want to know why Evelyn fell for me?”

He leaned in close：“Because the one she was supposed to fall for was you.”

I went rigid.

Winston continued：“Back then she got tons of love letters, but yours were the only ones she kept. I didn't even know you were the one writing them, not until one day I came back early from morning exercises and caught you slipping an envelope into her locker—same purple stationery she'd been saving.”

“Later, after you tossed that confession letter in the trash, I fished it out. The day the SATs ended, I scratched out your name, wrote mine over it, and went to confess to her. She said yes. Even told me how much she'd loved those letters, how they'd made her laugh. Just like that, we were together. And that tramp? She fell right in line—for me.”

Every part of me locked up.

Winston's grin only stretched wider：

“I went through every letter you wrote her, you know. They really were something. You remembered everything—what she liked to eat, what she liked to drink, what she did every single day. Like a diary. Oh, and one more thing.”

“In college, when you heard we'd broken up, you finally worked up the nerve to go after her. Too bad. She turned right around and forwarded your messages to me, asked me to reply for her. Those two years of flirty texts? That was me. I was stringing you along on purpose. Watching you dance on my strings—God, that was fun.”

“After that, she and I kept breaking up and getting back together. I even got caught checking into hotels with other women. She never said a word.”

“Connor. When it comes down to it, I should really thank you. You're the one who made that cheap little thing come running back to me.”

I went cold—all the way through. I couldn't get out a single word.

Then something shifted behind Winston's eyes.

He grabbed my hand and slammed it across his own face.

“Crack!”

Before I could even react, a harder slap landed on my cheek.

Evelyn's voice, ice-cold：“Connor, do you have a death wish?”

She hadn't asked a single question. Didn't hesitate for a second. Just took his side.

I stared past Winston's smirk, my hand pressed to my burning cheek, and took one last long look at Evelyn：“Evelyn, you were right. You really are a terrible person.”

I turned and walked away. Packed as fast as I could. Flew back to Manhattan that same day.

Three days later, a wedding invitation appeared on my feed.

Evelyn and Winston's.

Their wedding was the same day as mine.