Chapter 2

Suddenly, I remembered. A year ago, I had checked his phone too.

My best friend had warned me back then, saying I needed to keep my guard up in a long-distance relationship.

I had searched through his phone while he was in the shower, but I found absolutely nothing.

At the time, I felt so guilty. I thought I was being paranoid and untrustworthy.

Now, I knew the truth.

It wasn't that he hadn't cheated.

It was just that he was too good at deleting the evidence.

But I didn't understand.

I really, truly didn't understand.

Why did he cheat?

We were doing so well.

Even though we were hundreds of miles apart for six years, we talked on the phone every single day. We never ran out of things to say.

During the first two years, our calls would last two or three hours. We talked about everything, from what we ate for lunch to what we would name our future kids.

By the third and fourth year, the conversations naturally slowed down. Two hours became one hour, then thirty minutes.

I thought that was normal. Long distance is hard, and the initial spark always fades. Every couple transitions from passionate lovers to a comfortable routine, right?

But every time we met in person, it felt like the honeymoon phase all over again.

And he sent that 5:20 AM text every single morning, without fail, for six years.

He told me it was a special devotion meant only for me.

And I believed him.

The tears finally spilled over, hot and heavy, running down my cheeks.

When Liam walked out of the kitchen carrying a plate of food, he froze. He quickly set the dish on the dining table and rushed over to me.

"Hey, why are you crying?"

He knelt in front of me, gently wiping my tears with his fingers, his voice incredibly soft.

"Stop crying, please. I'm back now, aren't I? We're going to be together every day, and we're never parting again. You're just too happy, right? Seeing you cry like this breaks my heart."

I put his phone back on the coffee table and said nothing.

Liam stood up, wrapped his arms around my shoulders, and rested his chin on top of my head.

"Alright, alright, no more crying. I made your favorite steak. Go wash your face, and let's eat."

Steak was indeed my favorite. He used to make it for me all the time.

Liam handed me a fork and poured me a bowl of soup.

"Try it. I've been practicing this for days, just waiting for you to evaluate my skills."

He sat across from me.

I picked up a piece of steak with my fork.

I put it in my mouth and chewed.

I couldn't taste a thing.

"What's wrong? Not good?"

Liam looked at me, his fork suspended in mid-air.

I shook my head.

"Then eat more. Look how skinny you've gotten."

He placed another piece of steak onto my plate.

"We need to feed you up before our pre-wedding photoshoot. Otherwise, the photographer is going to think I'm starving you."

The pre-wedding photoshoot.

I thought about how I had started dieting three months ago just to look perfect in those photos.

I ran three miles every day, ate nothing but fruit for dinner, and scrolled through hundreds of photography studios online, making a fifteen-page planning document.

I had lists in my notes app of which studio had the best outdoor lighting, which one did the most natural editing, and which one had the highest quality photo albums.

I thought that day would be one of the happiest days of my life.

Me in a white dress, him in a suit, smiling brightly in front of the camera.

But now?

Just looking at him made me feel physically sick.

Liam kept talking. "My colleague recommended a spot in Miami. He said the beach photos there are stunning. Is there anywhere else you want to go? Haven't you always wanted to go to California?"