Chapter 3

I had absolutely no appetite during the meal. Julian glanced at me several times.

But he didn't ask a single question, probably wanting to avoid a scene.

On our way back to campus, I was initially walking between them.

But they had been talking about their geology lab project the entire time.

Without realizing it, I was pushed off the sidewalk.

They walked side by side, laughing and talking seamlessly.

It wasn't until we reached the gates of their campus that Julian finally turned back to look at me, a helpless smile in his eyes.

"How did you fall so far behind again?"

"I won't walk you all the way back to your dorm. Get home safe, okay?"

I looked up at their university gates, watching the couples walking in hand-in-hand.

I suddenly found it hilarious.

When we applied for colleges, we had agreed to go to the same school.

Yet, behind my back, an hour before the application deadline, they both changed their choices to the neighboring university.

They kept me in the dark for half a month, and I only found out when the acceptance letters arrived.

At the time, Julian had made up a cheap excuse.

"The geology program is just better here, Avery. We couldn't just compromise our futures for you."

Chloe had chimed in, "It's fine! The campuses are right next to each other. We're practically still together."

But for three years, I was always the one walking back to my dorm alone.

I pulled my gaze back, my face blank.

"Sure."

Julian’s gaze darkened as he stared at me.

Suddenly, he said, "Actually, let me walk you back."

But in the next second, Chloe groaned.

"Oh, but class is starting soon, Julian. Avery can walk back by herself, right?"

Julian frowned, looking at me silently.

I said calmly, "Don't worry about me."

His brow instantly cleared. "Alright, I'll walk you back next time."

I turned and walked away.

After only a few steps, I pulled out my phone and texted Julian:

[Let's break up.]

Not long after the message sent, I heard hurried footsteps behind me.

Julian caught up, grabbing my hand tightly.

"Why are you suddenly saying this? Stop joking around."

"I'm not joking."

Julian let out a soft laugh, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

"Have you just been in a bad mood lately? Talk to me."

He glanced back in Chloe's direction.

"But don't bring this drama to Chloe. It's finals week and she's super stressed. Don't distract her."

I froze.

It wasn't until my chest ached with a dull pain that I snapped back to reality.

Even when I broke up with him, Julian didn't take it seriously.

His only concern was Chloe.

Before Chloe came into our lives, Julian and I were childhood sweethearts who knew each other best.

When we were kids, Julian would fight anyone who called me slow.

When we grew up, he would spend hours helping me study.

Even when my parents got divorced and abandoned me, Julian used his savings and part-time tutoring money to help pay my tuition.

But the moment Chloe—a girl who seemingly "needed more taking care of"—appeared, it was always my turn to step aside.

By now, Chloe's frantic texts were already buzzing on his phone.

Julian quickly wiped a tear from my cheek.

"I have class. Go back and calm down first."

I had heard that phrase a thousand times.

Every time I argued with him because of Chloe, it always ended with him telling me to "calm down."

As if the problem was always me.

While he stood on the sidelines, never once validating my feelings.

That night, Julian only sent one text:

[Don't forget to take your pain meds.]

Looking at the text, my leg was throbbing.

It was an old injury from my years of competitive dancing.

In my past life, it had gotten so bad after graduation that I needed major surgery.

But right before the surgery, Julian and Chloe’s two-year research project lost its funding, halting their experiment.

At that time, I was working at the lab by day and teaching dance at night to raise money, but it was barely a drop in the bucket.

Seeing them so stressed and depressed after their funding applications kept getting rejected, I took my surgery money and filled their gap.

The experiment went on.

But that was the single biggest regret of my life.

Six months after giving up my surgery, I had a sudden flare-up during a freelance performance and fell off a three-foot stage.

At the hospital, the doctor looked at the MRI and sighed.

"The nerve damage is severe. If you had come in six months ago, we could have saved it. But now, you'll likely walk with a permanent limp."

I remember sitting on that hospital bed, staring at the white walls.

I called Chloe and Julian.

Neither picked up.

I called one of their lab colleagues.

The colleague sent me a video.

[It's someone's birthday, so the whole lab came out to celebrate!]

In the video, Julian and Chloe were sitting close together in the corner of a karaoke bar.

Amidst the roaring laughter of their friends, they were playing a game, passing a cookie mouth-to-mouth.

Their eyes locked in an intimate gaze that made it look like they were actually kissing.

The neon lights in the video were blinding, and my chest felt like it was being ripped open.

It wasn't until the next day that Julian finally called me back.

He said dismissively:

"A limp? It's fine. Worst case, you just don't dance anymore."

"Honestly, performing in public all the time wasn't a great look anyway."

He seemed to have completely forgotten whose surgery money had funded his precious experiment.