Chapter 2

“Of course not.”

Ryan pauses for a moment, then says lightly, “She’s been clinging to me for years. I got tired of her a long time ago. If Grandpa Cole hadn’t made me promise to marry her before he died, I would’ve broken up with her ages ago.”

I freeze where I stand, my eyes suddenly stinging.

Ryan and I grew up together.

When we were ten, both our parents died in the same accident.

Mr. Cole, the old man who lived next door, took us in and raised us like his own.

We called him Grandpa Cole.

After he died, Ryan and I were all each other had.

For years, we survived together.

We collected cans for cash, ate whatever we could dig out of trash bags, and slept under bridges when we had nowhere else to go.

Later, someone influential took Ryan under his wing and helped him break into Manhattan’s elite circle.

Ryan fought his way up from nothing and finally made a name for himself.

Our lives got better and better.

But somehow, we drifted farther and farther apart.

I follow Damon home.

The second we step inside, I wrap my arms around Damon’s waist and look up at him.

“Ryan, I remember you had a mole on your chin. Where did it go?”

Damon goes stiff.

“A… a mole?”

“Nothing.” I smile vaguely. “It doesn’t matter.”

Whether he is really Ryan or not no longer matters.

“Willow, get some sleep.”

Maybe I am holding him too tightly. Damon gently pushes me away, then practically escapes into the guest room.

Ryan bought this apartment three years ago.

Over the past three years, including Damon, nine different men have stayed here.

Ryan is the only one who never has.

His friends respected the line he drew. No matter how convincing their act was, they never got intimate with me.

Damon is the same.

Damon and I live together peacefully for a while.

One day, he takes me to urgent care for a bad cold.

By pure coincidence, we run into Ryan and Tessa.

“What a coincidence,” Tessa says, greeting us first.

I look at her coldly, then turn to Damon.

“You never got around to introducing these two last time.”

“Hi,” Ryan says before Damon can answer, probably afraid Damon will slip up. “I’m Damon Hayes, Ryan’s good friend. This is my girlfriend, Tessa. We’re here for a prenatal appointment.”

Tessa strokes her slightly rounded stomach and starts showing off without being asked.

“My boyfriend is so protective of this baby. He brings me in every two weeks for checkups. He’s terrified something might go wrong.”

Then she leans into Ryan’s arms on purpose, as if she’s trying to jog my memory.

“Willow, since you don’t remember, let me fill you in. I was the other woman who ended up with him. My boyfriend had a girlfriend before me. They even had a baby together.”

“But three years ago, his ex and I were both caught in the same car accident. He chose to save me, and his ex was the one who got hit. She was five months pregnant, and she lost the baby.”

“And he said he didn’t regret it. In his eyes, I mattered more than anything.”

I freeze, my heart aching like I’ve been stabbed all over again.

Every time I think about that baby, I lie awake all night. The pain is almost unbearable.

But to her, it is a joke.

Something she can bring up casually just to hurt me.

Talking about the past seems to stir something in Ryan, too. For a moment, his expression goes distant, as if he’s remembering something.

After a short silence, I force myself to smile.

“Oh. So where is his ex now?”

“Now?” Tessa curls her lips and looks at me with pure contempt. “Right now, she’s being passed around by nine different men like some cheap slut…”

“Shut up!”

Ryan and Damon snap at the same time.

A moment later, Ryan realizes he has lost control. He coughs awkwardly.

“Tessa, don’t bring up the past. I only love you now.”

I do not want to watch them perform anymore.

I turn to Damon.

“I’m going to the restroom.”

I have barely walked away when Ryan follows me.

Outside the restroom, he stands behind me, staring. There is something in his eyes I cannot read.

“Willow,” he says, breaking the silence first. “How have you been lately? Are you still… having trouble sleeping?”

“Damon—your boyfriend, I mean. Is he good to you?”

I don’t even look at him.

“What does it have to do with you whether my boyfriend treats me well?”

“Mr. Hayes, you have a girlfriend, and you’re saying things like this to me. What, are you trying to hit on me?”

Ryan chokes.

I let out a cold laugh.

“My boyfriend is a thousand times better than you. I’m really not interested.”

I turn to leave, but Ryan grabs my wrist.

His eyes darken as he stares at me, his expression starting to slip.

“Say that again. He’s better than me?”

A furious voice suddenly comes from behind us.

“What the hell are you two doing?”