Chapter 2

2: 2

2

Her words, as always, twisted the blame back onto me.

She recast my objection as being "petty," as "keeping score."

Every time it was this same script.

And every time, that tone of hers, laced with disappointment and reproach, made me wonder whether maybe I really was overreacting, whether I really was too narrow-minded.

Laurence Gilbert had it hard.

Laurence had just graduated.

Laurence came from a poor family.

So our wedding apartment could be stripped bare at his convenience.

Our life together could be disturbed without end.

And even the things I treasured most could be handed over to him with a wave of her hand.

Before, when I saw her like this, I would feel helpless, I would give in, I would tell myself to let it go.

It was just an object, not worth a fight.

But this time, no.

I looked at her cheeks flushed faintly pink under the light, at the undisguised favoritism and defense in those pretty eyes.

An overwhelming exhaustion and emptiness swept through me.

Heavier than anger, more complete than disappointment.

So it turned out that when your heart went cold enough, you didn't even have the urge to argue anymore.

The quieter I stayed, the angrier Madison got.

She shot to her feet, her voice suddenly climbing: "Orson, do you think I have no one else to marry but you?"

"If you keep this up, we're done!"

This was her go-to move.

Before, the moment she brought up breaking up, I would soften, apologize, give in.

But this time, I raised my eyes to her and calmly nodded.

"Fine. Then let's break up."

For a second she froze, as if she hadn't heard right, the anger locking on her face.

Then her whole face flushed fast, mortification and disbelief rushing up at once.

"Fine! You've really got nerve! Orson, don't you dare regret this!"

She practically screamed it, then got up and started putting on her dress and doing her makeup.

Ten minutes later she grabbed her bag, stormed out the door, and slammed it hard behind her.

I took out my phone and called my father.

"Dad," I said. "I'm not going through with this marriage."

"Can you ask the Masons whether the engagement Grandfather arranged still stands?"

There were a few seconds of silence on the other end. My father didn't ask why, didn't try to talk me out of it.

In the end he only sighed.

"Son, I told you a long time ago."

"You have to marry someone from the same kind of family."

I gave a bitter smile.

A little past one in the morning, my phone lit up.

It was a message from Madison's best friend.

"Orson, you'd better come quick."

"Madison's drunk, she keeps calling your name."

"She's even saying she's going to slit her wrists!"

Below the message was a video.

In a dimly lit pool, Madison slumped to one side, her hair a mess.

More than half the water had gone red.

I stared at the screen for a full ten seconds.

In the end, I still picked up my car keys and left.

When I reached the private room at the spa and bathhouse, the laughter inside was grating.

Madison lay draped in a towel, perfectly fine, stretched out on a chair.

There was a smug smile on her face, and a half-finished fruity cocktail in her hand.

The moment I pushed open the door, her circle of friends burst out laughing.

"Ooh, if it isn't the great lover boy. That was fast. Run any red lights?"

"See, Madison? I told you he can't let you go."

"Just dumped some red wine in the pool and reeled him right in."

Madison stood up and walked over to me.

"Since you were so worried about me, I'll forgive you this time."

Her tone was light, as if that whole argument earlier had only been something I imagined.

I said nothing and just looked at her quietly.

Right then, the door to the room swung open again.

Laurence walked in.

He carried a bag of iced coffee and headed straight for Madison.

He took out one cup and handed it to her, his voice tender enough to drip: "Madison, you're on your period these few days, you can't have anything cold, so I made sure to order yours at room temperature."

Madison took the cup, and her face broke into a smile at once, a little bashful.

"Thanks, Laurence. You're always so thoughtful."

Her friends beside her looked on with envy, all talking over one another.

"Look how sweet Laurence is!"

"Right? Way better than certain official boyfriends. At least he doesn't make Madison angry."

"Madison, honestly, you should think it over. Who's really right for you isn't so certain after all!"