Chapter 3

The argument ended with him slamming the door and storming out.

The next morning, when I woke up, the sound of children laughing and shouting echoed from the living room.

I opened my bedroom door and found my neat, clean apartment in absolute chaos.

The hand-woven throw blanket that Carter had supposedly custom-ordered for me was currently being trampled under the dirty shoes of Chloe’s young daughter.

"Oh, Natalie, you're finally awake!" Chloe chirped, looking up.

Before I could say anything, she turned toward the kitchen and called out, "Carter! Natalie’s up. Serve another bowl of oatmeal!"

Carter walked out of the kitchen, looking incredibly awkward.

"Uh... I only made enough for the four of us."

"There’s some leftover peanut butter toast in the pantry. You want that?"

I shook my head. "No, thanks. You guys go ahead."

He set his bowl down and walked over to me.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"Even if you’re mad, you shouldn't skip breakfast. Especially with your sensitive stomach."

I looked at him. At that moment, my chest felt like it was packed with heavy, wet cotton. I could barely breathe.

I let out a slow, cold breath.

"Carter, do you even remember what I’m allergic to?"

He froze for two seconds, a sudden flash of panic crossing his face.

"Oh... right. Babe, I’m sorry. I forgot."

He didn't forget. He just never cared enough to remember.

He couldn't remember that peanut butter could literally send me into anaphylactic shock.

Yet, he never failed to deliver a warm cup of ginger tea to Chloe on the exact day her period started every single month.

"If you don't want to eat, then don't. Why do you always have to make my mom and dad feel bad?"

The little boy speaking was Chloe’s seven-year-old son, Mason.

His presence was a loud, mocking reminder of how incredibly stupid I had been.

I had once asked Carter why Chloe’s children carried his last name, Miller.

At the time, he had told me:

"Chloe and I made a pact when we were younger. We promised we'd be co-parents to each other's kids if anything happened. Since their biological father walked out and they don't have a dad, it’s only right they take my name so they don't get bullied at school."

And back then, like an idiot, I believed him.

Chloe gave me an apologetic, sweet smile. "Kids are just protective of their parents. Don't take it personally, Natalie."

I didn't say a word. I grabbed my purse and walked toward the front door.

"Where are you going?" Carter grabbed my wrist.

"I'm hungry."

His grip slowly loosened, and he didn't ask anything else.

"Come back early."

The only response he got was the sound of the door slamming shut.

I drove to the local diner that Carter and I used to visit every weekend.

I ordered a plate of blueberry pancakes, crispy bacon, and a hot mug of black coffee.

"Carter came in a while ago," Bob, the diner owner, said as he brought my food. "I was wondering why you weren't with him."

"But hey, glad to see you today!"

I swallowed a bite of pancake and forced a polite smile. "Your pancakes are the best in town, Bob. Of course I'd come back."

Bob grinned widely. "Then how come you didn't join him last time?"

"He was here with a woman and two kids. I honestly thought that was you..."

Behind him, his wife, Mary, quickly tugged at his apron.

Bob realized his mistake instantly, his face turning red.

"Anyway! You need anything else, sweetheart? On the house!"

I shook my head. "I'm good, Bob. Thank you. I have to run."

My schedule for the day was packed.

10:00 AM: Hair and makeup trial.

1:00 PM: Wedding photoshoot.

And in the evening, I had to finalize the guest list and RSVPs.

Fortunately, I wasn't doing any of this alone anymore.