Chapter 3

They were sitting by the window. A massive plate of marinated beef was sizzling on the grill in front of them, steam rising between them.

That was the exact restaurant I had saved on my Instagram collections for three months.

I had told Phillips so many times that I wanted to try their K-BBQ.

Every time, he would promise to take me. But when the weekend came, he would always make excuses—it was too far, too expensive, too crowded, or we could just go "next time."

He had canceled on me at least five times. We never once made it.

And now, there he was, sitting inside with Penny across from him, chatting and laughing over dinner.

I stood at the entrance for about ten seconds, then pushed the door open and walked in.

"Table for how many?" the host greeted me.

"Just one," I said.

The host led me to a table right next to theirs, separated only by a narrow aisle.

As I sat down, Phillips looked up and saw me.

He froze. A piece of beef fell right out of his tongs and back onto the grill.

Penny followed his gaze. The smile on her face stiffened for a second before she quickly recovered her sweet, innocent expression.

I didn't look at them. I took the menu and started ordering.

While waiting for my food, I kept my head down, scrolling through Instagram. But from the corner of my eye, I could feel Phillips staring at me.

He was probably waiting for me to walk over. Waiting for me to confront him, to scream, to start a fight.

The old me definitely would have.

If Phillips talked too much to a girl from his college club, I would get upset.

If he liked another girl’s selfie on Instagram, I would question him.

If he stared at a girl on the street for too long, I would pick a fight that lasted all day.

Every single time, he would scowl and say, "Susan, can you stop being so insecure?"

And I would reply, "I’m not insecure. You just never care about how I feel."

We had that exact conversation a thousand times. But now, I didn't want to say a single word.

Suddenly, Phillips stood up and plated a piece of prime rib for Penny. His movements were incredibly performative.

"Eat up. Didn't you say you’ve been craving this for ages?"

Penny glanced at me, lowering her voice. "Phillips... Susan is sitting right there. If you do this, won't she get jealous?"

Phillips didn't bother to lower his voice. "Don't worry about her. We're done anyway."

I dipped my beef in the sesame oil sauce, chewed it slowly, and swallowed.

Throughout the dinner, Phillips kept placing food on Penny’s plate, deliberately glancing in my direction every single time.

He was desperate for a reaction.

He was waiting for me to slam my fork down, run over with teary eyes, and throw a hysterical fit just like I used to.

But I did nothing. I just quietly finished my meal.

When I got up to leave, I walked past their table. Phillips looked up at me, his mouth twitching as if he wanted to say something.

I didn't stop. I pushed the door open and walked out.

The May evening breeze hit my face, carrying a slight chill.

Standing in the crowd, I zipped my jacket all the way to the top and slowly walked back.

When I reached the hotel lobby, I bought a bottle of water at the convenience store, drank it at the entrance, and went upstairs.

I tapped my key card to open the door, but just as I was about to close it, a hand reached in to block the frame.

Penny was standing outside, wearing the hotel’s disposable slippers, her face painted with a textbook expression of apology.

"Susan, can we talk for a second?"