Chapter 2

Back home, my phone rang again and again. Every call was from Jacob.

After all, in his plan,

I was supposed to be drowning in grief right now, not vanishing off the face of the earth.

Early the next morning, a message came through from Jacob.

【Audrey, there are things I need to explain to you in person.

I'm sending you an address. I'll be waiting.】

At seven that evening, I walked into the restaurant right on time.

Jacob was already there, and he looked worn down.

It gave that handsome face of his a touch of melancholy.

Jacob really was one of life's favored children. The years had left no obvious mark on him.

Only, there was less of the old openness in his eyes now.

The moment he saw me, he stood up at once.

"Audrey, you came."

He pulled out my chair with the ease of habit and slid the lemonade to my hand.

I said nothing, just looked at him coldly.

Then, the way it had gone countless times before,

he pushed the plate of steak he'd already cut over in front of me.

Right then, a server came toward us carrying a bouquet of gardenias.

The server smiled at Jacob.

"Sir, per your instructions.

Whenever you come in, the table has to have gardenias on it."

Jacob's face stiffened, unnatural.

I looked at the flowers Valerie loved most.

And the sneer at the corner of my mouth was one I couldn't hide anymore.

Jacob really did understand romance. He knew to give a girl the flowers she liked.

Back when our business had just started to gain traction, he and I both had to travel to the neighboring city for two weeks.

Before we left, he solemnly handed off the little daisies he'd bought me to a friend.

"Water them every two days, put them in the sun at midday, bring them inside at night."

His friend teased him about it, laughing.

"You treasure them this much, why not just bring them along?"

He looked at me, his eyes full of tenderness.

"Love you keep in your heart. How could I drag her along through all that travel?"

Too bad that pot of little daisies had withered long ago.

"Sir?"

Seeing something off in Jacob's expression, the server didn't know what to do.

"Set them down and go."

Jacob waved a hand, his voice gone cold.

After the server left, the mood at the table dropped to freezing.

Jacob broke the silence. He looked at me, brows knitting together.

"You went to see Valerie yesterday?

You really are heartless. You said such ugly things to her. She cried the whole night."

I gave a cold laugh.

"So what, was I supposed to wait for you to rise from the dead and explain yourself?

And then be so moved by your hard little story that I'd send you off with tears and a blessing?"

"You've been watching too many soap operas."

I stood, leaning forward, and said it word by word.

"I'm not the kind of person who clings and makes scenes.

The two of you want to be together, all you had to do was tell me straight.

But scheming against me like this? You two disgust me completely."

"Audrey Delgado!"

Jacob's voice rose in spite of himself, his eyes complicated as he looked at me.

"I was wrong about this, I admit it.

But ask yourself honestly. In these seven years, when did you ever really lean on me?

Every day it was nothing but work, work. The only thing between us was projects and financial reports.

Did you ever give me the sense of being needed that a boyfriend should have?

I just wanted someone who could depend on me, someone who needed my protection. What's wrong with that?"

He paused, his eyes flickering.

"You said it yourself. In your plan for your life, love takes up only ten percent!"

I froze.

But in that ten percent, Jacob had taken up a hundred.

Back then, the company had hit its worst financial crisis. We were almost bankrupt.

I was the one who took over the project, who worked through the nights with my team, who ran down every investor I could reach.

Kept a smile on my face, drank until my stomach bled and I was rushed to the ER.

Jacob stayed with me all night, his eyes red as he said,

"Audrey, from now on I'll make sure you never have to push yourself this hard."

Leaning in his arms just then, I told him, half joking,

"Work takes up ninety percent of my life, love only ten.

As long as that ninety percent holds, I can't fall apart."

I thought he understood the strength I was putting on, understood that I was trying to comfort him.

Looking at the man in front of me now, all of it suddenly felt pointless.

"So?"