Chapter 2

Even though Chloe and I had been dating for five years, she had always been incredibly conservative around me. She wouldn't even wear a spaghetti strap top in front of me.

Yet here she was, completely naked, captured by Julian’s camera.

Even in the dim lighting, it was obvious she wasn’t being forced. She looked entirely willing.

I sat in silence on the sofa, scrolling through every single photo. The bitterness in my heart slowly numbed, leaving behind nothing but a cold, hollow void.

Right after, a text from Julian popped up.

"So sorry, man. I desperately needed a model for my new exhibition, and Chloe was sweet enough to help me out. I hope she didn't keep you waiting at City Hall?"

He knew damn well that Chloe had gone to his studio early in the morning and hadn't returned since.

He was doing this on purpose. He wanted to mock me.

I didn't reply.

Instead, I opened Instagram and saw that Chloe had just posted an update.

It was a photo taken in Julian’s studio, but different from the ones he sent me.

In this one, she was wearing a fluffy bathrobe, her hair damp.

Her caption read: "You will always be my muse."

In the bottom-left corner of the photo, a messy pile of men’s and women’s clothes lay on the bed. The sheets were heavily wrinkled. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had just happened.

Our mutual friends, clueless about the truth, thought she was just showing off our relationship. They flooded the comment section with congratulations.

Some of my buddies even texted me directly.

"Wait, weren't you guys supposed to sign your marriage license at City Hall today? Celebrating in a hotel already?"

"When's the wedding date, man? Don't forget to send us the invites!"

I didn't reply to any of them. I stared at her post, and it felt like a slap in the face.

I had waited at City Hall from sunrise to sunset. My excitement had slowly decayed into complete despair.

At first, I was terrified she had gotten into a car accident. I frantically called her friends, asking if they had seen her.

Now I realized how pathetic I was.

She didn't want to "take things slow."

I just wasn't the "muse" she had been waiting for.

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