Chapter 1

My girlfriend, Serena Weston, always has my "one-time" fingerprint registered on the smart lock for her house. Every time she registers it, she tells me, "Feel free to come over at any time. You're always welcome in my home!"

However, every single time, when I return to her doorstep, the lock's prompt always claims, "Your fingerprint is not registered."

After being locked out yet again, I stare at the sensor pad glowing red and call Serena.

As soon as the call connects, her tone's apologetic as usual. "I'm so sorry! Blake was messing around yesterday and accidentally deleted your fingerprint while testing the lock. Hold on. I'll re-register it for you the next time I'm back."

Once again, I have to wait for the next time. I grip my phone and suddenly recall the excuses she gave the previous times my fingerprint was deleted.

The time before last, she told me there was a glitch during a system upgrade. Yet, her childhood friend Blake White's fingerprint remains untouched.

Last time, she told me the lock was malfunctioning, so she'd changed the entire panel. In reality, it was because Blake had merely grumbled, "It's not safe to have too many fingerprints registered."

Every single time, she has a perfectly plausible "accident" that justifies her giving in to Blake's possessiveness over the house.

"Wait for me to come back and open the door for you," Serena says on the other end of the line.

However, as soon as I hang up, I hear the crisp click of the lock from inside the house. Blake knows I'm outside. Yet, he locks the door from the inside.

I rise to my feet and dust off my trousers, telling myself to let it be since I have no desire to walk through that door anymore.

Chapter 1

Clarence's POV

The night wind seeped into my collar and made me shiver.

I raised my hand to wipe my face. I didn't shed a tear.

My eyes were bone-dry. The wind was simply too strong.

I stood by the roadside outside the residential complex, pulled out my phone, and tried to book a ride.

"What are you doing here?"

I looked up and saw Eira Grayson approaching me with a bag of things from the convenience store. She was friends with my girlfriend, Serena Weston, and her childhood friend, Blake White, and she also lived in the same complex.

"Are you here to see Rena?" she inquired.

"Yeah," I responded. "The door is locked from the inside, so I can't get in."

Eira frowned, puzzled. "Blake's here, isn't he? He just sent a voice message in the group chat saying he's cooking at Serena's place. He invited us over for a couple of drinks," she rambled on, oblivious to how pale my face had become.

"Does he come here often?" I asked.

"Oh, you bet. He knows his way around Rena's place better than anyone. We always joke that he's the man of the house," she said, giggling.

Right after saying that, she realized her mistake and awkwardly fell silent. "I didn't mean it like that…"

I forced a smile and wanted to tell her it was fine, but it felt as though something was lodged in my throat.

Her phone chimed just then. It was a notification from the group chat.

I caught a glimpse of the group name on her screen. "Serena's Harem."

Blake had just sent a voice message, followed by a string of chaotic memes from the rest of the chat.

I even caught a few replies on the screen like "I'll be there in a minute" and "Save me a rib!"

Eira hurriedly locked her phone and sheepishly asked, "Do you want to head up together? He's probably just tied up in the kitchen and didn't hear you at the door. Besides, we're all friends."

We were all friends. I was Serena's boyfriend. Yet, in her circle, I was nothing more than an outsider who didn't belong.

I shook my head. "No. I'm good."

Then, I turned and walked toward the roadside.

After taking a few steps, I couldn't help but look down at my phone. The screen was still stuck on the last message Serena had sent me.

"Give me a few minutes. I'll be back to open the door for you right away!"

Ten minutes had passed, and she still hadn't made it home.

Chapter 2

Clarence's POV

The following morning, when I powered on my phone, two missed calls popped up on the screen.

There were also two messages, both from the night before.

The first read, "Why didn't you wait for me?"

The second read, "Blake was cooking, so I couldn't step away. Let me know when you get home."

Before I could reply, Serena's call came through. "Blake removed your fingerprint from the door lock of his own accord. I've already talked to him about it."

Then, she added, "Eira and the others are hosting a gathering tonight. Join us. We're all friends. I'm sure you'll get to know everyone over time."

I wasn't particularly keen on attending it, yet I agreed anyway.

…

When I arrived at the private room of the cheese fondue restaurant, Blake was already seated at the head of the table. He patted the chair beside him. "Rena, sit here!"

I wanted to sit to Serena's right, but another one of their friends beat me to it. "Come on. Let me sit next to Serena so we can have a few drinks together."

Blake poked his head out, looked at me, and said with a smile, "In that case, you can sit across from us. The view is better from over there."

Thus, I took the seat farthest away from Serena. Across the thick steam of the fondue, I watched as Blake turned his head to talk to her. His hair almost brushed her shoulder.

The crabs were served. Blake poked at them with his cutlery and joked, "Rena, help me crack this crab. I'm terrible at it."

Without saying a word, she picked up a crab, placed it on her own plate, and cracked it for him. Her fingers turned slightly red from the steam, yet she didn't seem to care.

Blake picked up a piece, bit off half of it, and held the remaining piece of crab meat up to Serena's lips. "Have a bite, Rena. It's so fresh!"

Serena ate it straight from his hand, her lips brushing against his fingertip.

One of their friends teased, "After all these years, you two are still this touchy-feely. Aren't you afraid her actual boyfriend will get jealous?"

Blake chuckled. "Rena has been peeling crabs for me since we were kids. Her boyfriend isn't that petty, right?" With that, he turned to look at me.

In an instant, all eyes were on me. I froze for a split second before forcing a smile. "Yeah, it's fine."

After taking a few bites, Blake pushed the plate in front of him toward Serena. "I can't bite through this meat, Rena."

Serena took a look at it, transferred the meat to her own plate, cut it into smaller pieces for him, and pushed it back. Even though she didn't utter a word the entire time, she did it as though she had done it countless times before.

One of their friends said in amazement, "The two of you are so in sync. I guess that's what happens when you grow up together."

Blake laughed and turned to Serena. "Do you remember when we were in college, and you came to my campus to see me? My roommate thought you were my girlfriend. He even insisted on taking us out to dinner."

Serena smiled. "Your roommate was way too enthusiastic."

"Tell me about it. He kept asking us when we were getting married," he continued. When he said that, his gaze swept over me with an imperceptible hint of triumph.

He then reached out to straighten Serena's shirt collar, his fingertips brushing over her collarbone. "Your collar is crooked."

No one at the table thought anything of it. None of them found it strange.

I watched Blake's hand linger at her neckline for two seconds before he finally withdrew it. Serena didn't dodge. It was obvious that she was used to it.

Halfway through dinner, Blake rose from his seat to grab a drink. When he stood up, his hand slipped, spilling a glass of red wine over my white T-shirt.

Before I could utter a word, Serena had already grasped Blake's hand and turned it over to check it. "Did you hurt your hand? Did the glass break?"

Blake shook his head and said he was fine. Then, he looked at me apologetically. "I'm so sorry. Is your shirt expensive? I'll buy you a new one!"

The red wine trickled down the fabric and dripped onto the toe of my shoe. Serena didn't spare me so much as a glance.

"I'm going to the restroom," I said.

When I reached the door of the private room, I heard Blake's hushed voice. "Rena, is your boyfriend upset? Did I upset him earlier?"

Serena's voice rang out. "He's not that petty. Don't overthink it."

He chuckled. "That's good. I was worried you'd stop talking to me because of him."

A few muffled laughs ensued.

I stood outside the door, just like I had the night before at Serena's doorstep.

All of a sudden, I found it almost laughable. The people inside were the ones who truly belonged. I had always been the one left standing outside.

Chapter 3

Clarence's POV

After dinner, everyone left the restaurant and said their goodbyes, gathering in small groups by the roadside to wait for their rides. I naturally walked toward Serena's car and reached for the front passenger door handle.

Blake scurried over from the other side and nudged me out of the way. He smiled and explained, "Let me sit in the front. I get carsick easily, so I can't sit in the back."

With that, he pulled open the door, slid inside, and buckled his seatbelt. He did it in one swift motion, as if he had done it countless times before.

Then, he turned to Serena. "Let's go, Rena."

Serena glanced at me and casually said, "Blake really does get carsick. You should sit in the back."

I pressed my lips together and opened the rear door.

Soon, the car pulled away.

Blake casually popped open the glove compartment and pulled out a packet of nuts. He shelled a few for himself and held one up to Serena's lips. "Open up."

She lowered her head and ate the nut straight from his fingers, her lips brushing his fingertips.

"Jonah and the others are planning to go to that new campsite next weekend, Rena. Are you going?" Blake asked.

"Yeah, I'm going. It's been a while since I've gone anywhere," she replied.

"In that case, I'm going too. You'll still be driving this SUV, right? I'll ride with you."

"Sure. I'll pick you up then."

Blake chuckled. "It's a deal then. Don't bail on me again!"

With that, he reached out and poked her arm.

Sitting in the back seat, listening to them hash out their plans for the following weekend, I dug my fingernails deep into my palms. The camping trip with Jonah Hayes and their other mutual friends was news to me. Serena had never mentioned it to me.

While we were stopped at a red light, Blake pulled out his phone and showed Serena something. "I'm so annoyed. Zack's hounding me about the proposal again. Look at the requirements he sent. Isn't he out of his mind?"

Serena glanced at what Zack Foster, Blake's superior, had sent and responded, "Stick to standard logic and don't let him throw you off course."

He put his phone away and sighed. "You're the only one who gets me. When I talk to other people, none of them understand what I'm upset about!"

When we got close to Serena's place, Blake suddenly started coughing. Initially, it was light, as though his throat was irritated. However, it soon became more frequent and strained.

He clutched his chest and leaned back against the seat. He forced out, "Rena… I can't breathe…"

Serena immediately slowed down and pulled over, her tone instantly shifting. "Where's your medication? Did you bring your inhaler?"

Blake shook his head, his breathing growing more labored. "I… I forgot it…"

Serena reached over to pat his back with practiced ease. She turned her body, keeping one hand on the steering wheel while stroking his back up and down with the other.

After gasping for air a few times, Blake suddenly turned his head to look at me in the back seat and frowned.

"Did you spray some kind of cologne? I really can't stand it…"

"I'm not wearing any cologne," I responded.

He ignored me and started coughing even harder before curling up in his seat. Serena shot me an annoyed look, as if she was asking me why I was being so unreasonable. "Clarence, are you sure you didn't spray anything?"

"I didn't."

She didn't press me any further. Then, she looked out the window and remained silent for a few seconds before announcing, "We're not far from my place. Clarence, why don't you walk home?"

Before I could even process what was happening, she had already gotten out of the car and opened the rear passenger door for me. The cold night air whipped in, hitting my face and making me shudder.

I got out of the car and stood by the curb. The moment the door slammed shut, I heard Blake's faint voice. "Rena… let's go to the emergency room… I feel awful…"

I watched the car disappear into the distance. Suddenly, I found the whole situation absurd.

The streets were deserted late at night. I was wearing a thin jacket, and the wind blew right through it.

I didn't want to go back to Serena's place. However, the original property deed was still on the desk in her study.

It was the original document Mom had urged me several times to have sent from our hometown, and I only had this one copy. If I didn't go back for it, her trip to the notary's office would've been for nothing.

I hailed a cab and gave the driver Serena's address.

Chapter 4

Clarence's POV

The cab pulled up downstairs at Serena's apartment.

I used the passcode she had given me that evening to unlock the door. The warm yellow light shone onto the tabletop, illuminating my document folder.

The folder had been opened, and the document inside had been torn in half, the pages crumpled and covered in large water stains. The ink had bled out, smudging the official seal and signatures into an illegible mess.

I picked up the document that had been torn in half, my fingers trembling at the jagged tear. It was a property transfer agreement.

Mom had planned to transfer ownership of the house back in our hometown to me. It was supposed to be mailed to my place.

However, when Serena heard about it, she said, "Have it sent to my place. I know someone at the housing authority. I'll handle the paperwork for you, so your mom doesn't have to go through all that trouble."

Now, it was ruined.

Mom would have to make another trip to the notary's office in our hometown to go through the entire process again. The original documents would have to be mailed again, followed by another wait of at least a month.

Mom's failing health could no longer bear such a strain. I lowered my head and stared at what remained of two months of hard work—two torn pieces of paper, crumpled and stained, with a faint shoeprint on them.

I dialed Serena's number. It rang for a long time before she picked up.

Her voice was hushed, laden with fatigue and impatience. "I'm at the emergency room. Blake's on oxygen. What do you want?"

"My property transfer agreement," I said. "The one on the desk in your study. Someone tore it up and spilled water all over it."

Serena fell silent for two seconds. "I don't have time for this right now. The doctor said he could've been in serious danger if we'd arrived any later."

"That agreement is Mom's—"

Serena cut me off sharply, as though she were a completely different person. "Clarence Calloway, do you really have to talk about this right now? Did you know he had an asthma attack and almost died? Can't you just get another copy of the agreement yourself? Stop pinning everything on him!"

She paused before adding, "He's still hooked up to an oxygen mask at the moment. Be sensible."

The line went dead.

Blake posted a new update on his social media. The caption read, "Had an asthma attack, and Rena stayed with me at the ER. Thank goodness I have her!"

Someone commented, "Serena to the rescue once again?"

All of a sudden, I felt exhausted. I wasn't sad or angry. I was just tired to the bone.

I locked my phone and prepared to pack the shredded document into my bag. While gathering the pieces, I accidentally bumped into the mouse on the desk.

The computer screen lit up, displaying a hotel booking website. There was an unread notification in the "My Bookings" column. "Check-out confirmed. Feel free to leave a review!"

The mouse was right beside me, so I clicked on it. The booking details were displayed on the screen.

"Guest: Serena Weston."

"Additional guest: Blake White."

"Hotel: A hot spring resort on the outskirts of town."

"Room Type: King Bed Suite."

There was a sentence in the special requests column. "Need a room with a private hot spring."

The booking was for three months ago, when she had supposedly been "away on a business trip".

I was dumbstruck. I felt as though an invisible hand were clenching my insides.

I didn't close the page. My gaze landed on the shortcut to the food delivery app in the browser's bookmarks bar.

I clicked on it. The order history showed there was an order that same weekend three months ago, delivered to that same hotel.

"Order time: 10:47 pm."

"Order: Two glasses of mulled wine, a fruit platter, and a box of condoms."

"Placed by: Serena Weston."

My eyes lingered on the words "a box of condoms" until the screen finally went dark, reflecting my own face back at me on the black monitor.

I suddenly remembered that night. I had sent Serena a message. "Are you tired from your business trip?"

She'd replied, "I'm okay. You should turn in early."

Consequently, I'd gone to bed.

Meanwhile, she had ordered a box of condoms and had them delivered to the suite she had shared with Blake.

I set the mouse down. I didn't cry, I didn't tremble, and I didn't smash a thing. I simply pulled out the suitcase I had brought with me from the closet and packed up all my belongings.

The moment the door closed behind me, the electronic lock chimed in the empty hallway. "The door has been locked."

I didn't look back. There was nothing left to look back at.