Chapter 2

At night, I was jolted awake by my phone ringing.

It was Milton James, Terry's childhood friend.

"Iris, Terry's had way too much to drink. You'd better come get him."

"Don't call me."

My voice was cold.

"But... Iris, didn't he have that stomach bleed before? You should really come look after him."

I froze for a moment.

Terry's stomach bleeds. He'd had them so many times.

Back when we'd first graduated, we joined the same startup and ground it out together.

Clients would see me as some fresh-out-of-college girl and try to get me drunk.

Terry would plant himself in front of me every time, and he'd often drink until his stomach bled.

There were times in the hospital when I was so frightened I cried, and he'd smile and comfort me, telling me it would be fine.

"If you won't come, our only option is to call his grandmother."

Milton pleaded.

I hesitated a long while, pressed my lips together, and said, "Address."

The moment I stepped into the private room, something felt off.

It was pitch dark, and far too quiet.

I switched on the light and saw Terry pinning Sybilla down on the couch.

Their bodies pressed together, their breathing thick and suggestive.

The instant I saw it.

I nearly lost my footing, my head roaring.

"What are you two doing?"

The words had barely left my mouth when a whole group of people sprang up from behind the couch, cheering.

"Sybilla wins again! What acting!"

Milton laughed the loudest.

"Haha, Iris, you actually fell for it."

Sybilla climbed off Terry.

She looked at me, laughing so hard she was almost crying.

"Oh, come on, Iris, honey, look how pale your little face is. Is there any need to be this scared?"

"I treat you so well, and you actually thought I wanted to steal your man? Made me your imaginary enemy, did you?"

Terry curved his lips too, helpless.

"I even told them how much you trust me. Guess I lost that one."

"So what's the bet this time?"

I looked at their little farce, worn out, and asked.

Terry wrapped his arms around me from behind and said, careless about it, "Nothing much. Just our honeymoon."

"We're bringing Sybilla along."

"More people, more fun anyway."

"And we're switching the place to Napa Valley. No more South Island. Sybilla doesn't like the ocean."

Something in my chest twisted with a sudden ache.

South Island was the home of my late mother, who had married far away to Elmwood City and rarely went back.

Before she died, she'd kept saying she wanted me to go back in her place, to see it for her, and to bury her there.

The day she passed, Terry held me as I cried myself hoarse, and with red eyes he promised he'd go with me to bring my mother home.

He wrote a thick travel plan.

He marked out every place on South Island where my mother had lived, right alongside me.

But after his promotion, work got too busy, and he'd dragged it out all the way to this honeymoon.

And now, for Sybilla.

He was giving up South Island and choosing Napa Valley.

I held back my tears and demanded an answer.

"Terry, on our wedding night you had your arm around your girl buddy, betting on me, playing me, wagering my honeymoon? What do you even call a honeymoon for three?"

Sybilla leaned against the door and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Iris, honey, there you go overthinking again."

"So what if it's three people?"

"Don't pull that catfight stuff with me."

"After all, your wedding venue was my pick, your bridal photos were my choice, and even the rings were bought by me."

She held out her hand and waved it in front of me, the matching ring flashing.

"Cartier. I bought two real ones and one fake. Guess whose hand the fake is on?"

She hooked up one corner of her mouth.

She slipped the ring off, casually, and dropped it into my palm.

"The one on my hand is the genuine one. You never even noticed. Here, returning it to its rightful owner."

Terry's peach-blossom eyes crinkled, and he reached out to lightly tap my forehead.

"Silly Iris, you didn't even care about your own wedding ring. Of course you got fooled."

I stood there, dazed.

The ring on my finger burned against my skin.

I'd thought the wedding was Terry's labor of love.

I put up with the cramped venue, put up with my eyes being shut in the photos.

But I never imagined it had all been Sybilla's doing.

Even the ring was fake.

"Oh, right, the bunny-ears outfit link and the lace outfit link, those were mine too. I picked them and sent them to you from his phone."

Sybilla threw more fuel on the fire, watching eagerly for my reaction.

In an instant, Terry's friends broke into loud laughter.

"That's our Sybilla, what an eye!"

"She knows exactly what Terry the dog likes! Scoring perks for the mutt."

"I've gotta pull that video back up, Iris in her lace limited edition."

Amid all the jeering.

My head buzzed again.

I'm a very traditional, good girl.

Back when I saw the link Terry sent.

I'd lain awake all night, shy and hesitant, before I finally worked up the nerve to pay for it.

Just to give him a surprise, to make his wish come true.

Now it was a joke.

But Terry paid no attention to how mortified I was. He scolded Sybilla with a laugh, "Poor you, working so hard. Enough already. Looking out for a buddy, isn't that just your job?"

I couldn't listen anymore. I turned to leave.

Sybilla lifted her chin in my direction and said, "Your wife's angry. Better hurry and go smooth things over."

"Nah. She's used to it by now."

Terry poured her a drink without looking up, then said to me, "Iris, get home safe. The bet isn't over yet. I'm staying at Sybilla's tonight."

It was nearly morning by the time I got home.

I opened my phone and checked the plane tickets to South Island I'd booked long ago. Departure tomorrow.

By chance, Sybilla's post scrolled past.

In the picture, Terry was asleep beside her.

His face relaxed, his arm draped over her and not letting go.

The caption read, "This puppy of mine sleeps like a mess. Feeling sorry for his wife for one second."

Mutual friends piled on with jokes.

"Now that's brotherhood that shares one pair of pants."

"Honestly, the two of you suit each other better. With that size difference, lying together like that, there's some serious tension."

After a while, Terry must have woken up, because he replied once.

"Don't talk nonsense. Iris has been in a bad mood these past few days."

Sybilla answered fast, "Iris, honey, she's great in every way. Just too suspicious. Bye now."

I refreshed again, and the post was gone.

I looked at the sky, faintly turning white.

I had someone help me prepare a set of divorce papers.