Chapter 2

Her face flushed from white to red, then back to a sickly pale.

"You could have chosen not to introduce me to your parents."

"But why did you have to lie to me for seven consecutive years?"

"Liam—"

"You told me you didn't have a habit of sharing your life online."

I cut her off.

"So what are those hundreds of posts about?"

She opened her mouth, but she had no answer.

I grabbed her phone from the nightstand, unlocked it, opened Instagram, and shoved the screen right in front of her face.

"Were these also posted because your parents threatened to disown you?"

Her fingers twitched, wanting to grab the phone, but I pulled it back.

"Chloe, let me ask you one thing."

I locked my eyes onto hers.

"What exactly was I to you during these seven years?"

I stuffed the phone back into her hand.

"Forget it. Don't answer. I don't want to hear it."

I swung my legs out of bed. My knees felt weak, and I had to lean against the nightstand for support. She jumped out of bed immediately, trying to pull me back.

"Liam, please don't do this. Let's sit down and talk."

"I have to go to work."

"How can you go to work in this state? I'll call in sick for you."

"No need."

I grabbed my bag and opened the front door.

She called my name from behind, but I didn't look back.

The moment the elevator doors closed, I leaned against the cold metal wall and finally broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.

Once I reached my office building, I sat on a concrete bench by the sidewalk for a long time.

My phone buzzed repeatedly.

It was Chloe calling, but I didn't answer.

Snapchat notifications flooded my lock screen one after another:

*Liam, where are you?*

*Don't scare me.*

*I'm so, so sorry.*

*Please come back, let's talk.*

*I swear I'll fix this.*

*Liam, please.*

I put my phone on silent. I scrolled through my chats and found my dad's message from last week.

*Liam, how are things going with Chloe? When can our families meet up? You're not getting any younger, son. It's time to settle down.*

My reply back then had been:

*Dad, she's super busy with work right now. We'll talk about it once this busy season is over.*

My dad had replied:

*Alright, alright. Take your time. I just worry about you living all by yourself out there. It's not easy. It’s good to have someone caring by your side.*

Oh, yes. Chloe was incredibly caring.

The night I got completely wasted at a business dinner, she stayed up all night, bringing me Advil and a glass of water, gently wiping my face.

The breakfast diner I loved had a half-hour line every weekend, but she would go there every Saturday morning just to buy it for me.

I ended up taking a personal day and went back to my apartment.

I sat on the sofa until the afternoon, staring into space. Chloe's messages kept lighting up my phone, but I didn't even have the energy to read them.

Around four in the afternoon, my phone rang.

It wasn't Chloe. It was a delivery guy.

"Is this Mr. Miller? I have a package for you. Are you home?"

"Yes."

He handed me a medium-sized box. It was quite heavy.

I looked at the return label. It was from Amazon.

I tore it open. Inside was a sleek, black sports watch—the latest model.

Just the other day at dinner, I had casually mentioned how cool this watch looked on a tech blog. She had glanced at me, saying nothing.

She was always like that.

She would say nothing, but quietly make it happen.

That was why I had never doubted her.

How could someone who woke up early every Saturday to buy me breakfast lie to me?

How could someone who stayed up all night to take care of me when I was sick lie to me?

How could someone who remembered every single one of my preferences and never said no to me lie to me?

And yet, she had lied to me for seven whole years.

After a long time, I picked up my phone and called the delivery guy back.

"Hi, about the package you just delivered... I got the wrong item. Can I return it?"

"As long as the box is unopened, yes. You can just request a return on Amazon."

"Okay, thank you."

I sealed the box back up.

Just then, the front door clicked open.

Chloe stood at the entrance, panting heavily, sweat dripping down her forehead.

She must have run up. Our apartment was a sixth-floor walk-up, no elevator.

When she saw me, she looked as if a massive weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She leaned against the doorframe for a few seconds.

"Liam."

She walked in, her voice shaking.

"You scared me to death."

I didn't move.

She knelt in front of me, looking up at me with red, teary eyes.

"I know I messed up, Liam. I shouldn't have lied to you. I shouldn't have hidden him from you. But I swear, I don't love him. My parents forced me. They threatened to cut me off, I really had no choice..."