Chapter 2

Tears slid down my cheeks, then dried in the wind before I could feel them at all.

He always said he was busy, so I learned to spend my birthdays alone, my Valentine's Days alone, to ride the bus alone to go find him.

Last month, on our dating anniversary, I took a day off ahead of time and traveled to his city to see him.

Six months ago, for his birthday, I turned down a work trip the company had scheduled so I could be with him, and lost my bonus over it.

Last year, on my birthday, he said work was too busy, so I spent it home alone.

My best friend once teased me: "They say a man never remembers the woman who crosses mountains to reach him. You keep giving like this, one-sided, and one day you won't even have anywhere to cry."

But I said it with total certainty: "He's not that kind of man."

Only now do I know she was right.

When I got home, a message came in from Herbert.

"Just got out of a meeting. Bought you a cake, already had it dropped at your door."

I opened the door and found it was the chestnut Basque cake he'd packed up from that very restaurant.

But he'd forgotten. I'm allergic to chestnuts.

He simply treated me, as a matter of course, like a recycling bin, handing me whatever Maxine didn't want.

I replied: "You don't know I'm allergic to chestnuts?"

"I'm busy enough as it is. Where would I find the time to keep track of little things like that?" His reply came fast, the impatience bleeding through.

He had no energy to remember my allergies, but he'd remembered which restaurant's cake Maxine liked.

Yet I still remembered when we first got together. I was late to one of our dates, and Herbert had ordered ahead. One of the dishes was braised chicken with chestnuts.

I didn't know, and soon after I ate it the reaction hit. Herbert panicked instantly, never leaving my side, caring for me for two whole days.

Afterward, guilt in his voice, he said: "Barbie, it's all my fault. I'll never let you suffer like that again."

But now, he says an allergy is just a little thing.

I truly couldn't understand why Herbert treated me this way. The person he used to be wasn't like this.

We were deskmates in high school, always bickering and teasing each other. Our classmates all called us a bickering couple.

Until, after the SATs were over, Herbert suddenly asked: "Barbara, which city do you want to go to school in?"

I snapped back at him: "None of your business. What, you planning to follow me?"

But Herbert went quiet, and only after a long while did he say: "And if I said yes? I don't want to just be your classmate. Wherever you go, I'll go. I want to be with you, always. Is that okay?"

I froze on the spot, and after a long while I said yes.

Later we went to Capital City together. Even though we were on opposite ends of the city, every week he rode all the way over to see me, never once tired of it, just for a single glimpse of my face.

He'd started his own company back in college, and by graduation it had begun to take off. He didn't want to leave.

And for various reasons, I chose a job in my hometown.

It was the first time we'd been apart since we met, and I believed with all my heart that a two-hour distance couldn't defeat what we had.

The day we parted, Herbert held me for a long time at the station and said: "Wait for me. I promise I'll give you a future."

But it turned out I was wrong. His company grew bigger and bigger, and his time for me grew less and less.

Until now, when his heart has turned toward someone else, and the future he'd spoken of never came.

"Let's break up." I sent him this message.

The next day, my best friend went with me to the mall to cancel the wedding ring we'd ordered.

In that first year of long distance, Herbert had once told me: "Barbie, within five years I'll marry you, for sure."

This year happens to be the fifth. And he never once brought up marriage again.