Chapter 2

By the time my best friend, Logan, came to pick me up, my chest was still aching in sharp throbs.

Once I posted on Snapchat that the wedding was canceled, everyone started bombarding me with messages.

The most common response was: "Ethan, is there some misunderstanding between you and Victoria?"

"She's such a perfect woman. If you lose her, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

Even my own mother took Victoria's side: "Victoria told me what happened. It was just a minor comment about your suit. There's no need to make a big deal out of it."

As for Victoria, she only sent me three words on iMessage: "Stop acting up."

Clutching my phone, a wave of pure helplessness washed over me.

No one understood.

To everyone else, Victoria was the dream girlfriend.

She was gorgeous, highly capable, made great money, and had been loyal to me for ten years.

If she had any flaw, it was her "tough love."

We were childhood sweethearts. We grew up next door to each other.

She was always the golden child, excellent at everything, always a step ahead of me.

But life has a way of balancing things. While she was blessed with genius, she was cursed with a broken home.

Her mother died early, and her father was a ruthless workaholic who ignored her unless she brought home a first-place trophy.

Because of this, Victoria grew up incredibly fast.

While other kids were playing in the dirt, Victoria was already winning state math competitions.

That dysfunctional upbringing made her cold. But with me, she let out her sharp, critical tongue.

When I got a B instead of an A, she would tap my forehead and call me "lazy," pointing out my mistakes and demanding, "How could you get such an easy question wrong?"

When I won a bronze medal in a track meet, she—having won gold—would look at me with cold disappointment, calling me "hopeless."

Growing up, my mother’s favorite phrase was, "Look at Victoria. She's so successful, always top of her class, winning awards left and right."

I grew up entirely in Victoria's shadow.

I hated how she constantly made me feel worthless, and I hated how my mother always compared me to her.

But in our teenage years, everyone called us a "cute, bickering couple."

They said Victoria treated me that way because she loved me.

Even when Victoria confessed her feelings to me, she said, "Ethan, if I didn't love you, why would I hold you to such high standards?"

That was the first time she had ever spoken to me so softly. Her eyes were warm, filled with a rare tenderness.

With everyone around us cheering, I ignored the quiet unease in my gut.

I agreed to be her boyfriend, completely dazed.

And that daze lasted for ten whole years.