Chapter 2

I crouched on the asphalt, burying my face into my knees.

My mind was a chaotic mess, flooded with memories.

Last month, at his friends' house party, he insisted on dragging me along.

It was the first day of my period, and the cramps were so agonizing that I broke out in cold sweats.

I begged him to let me stay home.

He said he had already told everyone I’d be there, and that leaving him alone would make him look bad.

At the bar, his buddies pressured me into taking tequila shots.

I told them I wasn't feeling well and couldn't drink.

Brad just wrapped an arm around my shoulder, grinning. "Just one shot, babe. For my reputation."

That single shot tore through my stomach like fire.

I spent the next twenty minutes throwing up violently in the restroom stall.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was an Uber notification.

The queue had lengthened. Thirty-five people ahead of me.

I lost track of time until a white SUV rolled out of the parking structure and idled directly in front of me.

The window rolled down. Brad was behind the wheel, Natalie beside him in the passenger seat.

She beamed warmly at me.

"Chloe, don't be mad anymore. Hop in, we'll give you a ride home."

I reached for the rear door handle.

It didn't budge. Locked.

My hand froze on the handle, fingertips turning icy.

Brad spoke, his voice cool and indifferent.

"You ruined the mood for everyone today. Apologize, and I'll let you in."

My spine stiffened. I pulled my hand back and stood up straight.

"No need."

"Just go."

Brad frowned, clearly surprised by my defiance.

"Chloe, stop throwing a fit. You won't find a ride out here."

"I know."

With that, I turned around and started walking down the shoulder of the road.

Behind me, the silence lasted for a few seconds.

Then the engine revved.

The sound faded into the distance.

He actually left.

I stood by the empty roadside, watching the white taillights vanish into the twilight.

I waited by that curb for nearly two hours before a driver finally accepted my ride.

The driver, a middle-aged man, glanced at me in the rearview mirror several times.

"You look pretty pale, kid. Everything alright?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

I leaned back against the headrest and closed my eyes.

My phone chimed.

A message from Brad:

[Where are you?]

[Hurry home and cook dinner. Natalie says she’s craving your honey-glazed ribs.]

I stared at the screen for a long time.

His first love wanted to eat my home-cooked ribs.

And he expected me to rush back and serve them.

A sudden, breathless laugh escaped my lips.

I didn't reply.

The car kept driving toward downtown. Twenty minutes from our apartment, the phone lit up again.

[Why aren't you here yet? What’s taking so long?]

[Chloe, I know you saw the message. Stop ghosting me.]

I turned the phone face down onto my lap.

As we neared my neighborhood, I spoke up to the driver.

"Could we change the destination?"

The driver glanced back. "Not heading home?"

"No. Take me to the nearest motel."

"Alright then."

The car took a turn onto a different avenue.

After checking into a cheap hotel room, I sat on the unfamiliar mattress, staring blankly at the popcorn ceiling.

My phone buzzed incessantly on the nightstand.

[Chloe, what the hell is wrong with you?]

[If you don't cook, who's going to feed us?]

[Are you throwing another tantrum? Grow up.]

I opened his chat, took one last look, and hit block and delete.