chapter 3

My phone suddenly heated up in my hand, burning my fingertips, making them shake.

Adrian hated physical contact—I knew that the first time we met.

He always pushed me away with just his fingertips, even putting a napkin under the coffee cup when handing it to me.

The only reason we got intimate that day was because he heard Emma had started dating.

......

When I got home, Adrian's friends were gone, leaving the chaotic aftermath of the "proposal" scene.

Adrian sat on the sofa, watching a movie with Emma over a video call, and a husky I didn't recognize lay at his feet.

Without looking up, he ordered, "Clean this mess up. These idiots are really out to annoy me."

The dog suddenly stood up, a familiar item clamped in its mouth.

My mom's handmade sweater—the last piece she'd left me.

"Whose dog is this?" I asked, my voice trembling.

He reluctantly looked up from his phone. "Emma had something come up, asked me to watch this dog for a couple of days. This idiot just tore through your closet."

The husky suddenly tugged harder; the sweater sleeve tore apart, threads flying through the air.

"Adrian!" I lunged to save it, but a sharp pain in my lower belly made me collapse.

"Don't freak out, it's just an old sweater," he said.

Then he sent a voice message to Emma. "What's wrong with you? Want me to watch a horror movie with you, but too scared? Want me to beat your little butt?"

The sweater was ripped in half, and the dog kept shaking its head, tearing at it.

I watched the yarn swirl in the air, imagining my mom on her sickbed, smiling faintly as she knitted.

"Adrian, let's break up," I clutched my stomach and said.

No sooner had the words left my mouth than Adrian slammed the phone to the floor, shattering the screen instantly. "Waiting for me here?

"Are we stuck like this all night?"

I shook my head weakly and eased myself onto the couch. My stomach twisted in waves of pain. "I mean it. I'm not joking.

"Maybe Emma's better suited to be by your side."

From the cracked phone on the floor, I could still hear Emma's rough shouting, "Ahhhhh! Where'd you go?! The ghost's out, ahhh!"

Adrian didn't even glance at the phone. His eyes slowly turned icy. "So in the end, it's still Emma?

"How many times do I have to say it? There's nothing between me and her! She's just a tomboy—what are you jealous of?"

"Yes, a tomboy—the one who needed you to buy her pads, the one who'd mess around with you on her period, the one who'll marry you!" My laugh dripped with icy sarcasm.

Adrian's fist clenched suddenly, veins popping at his temple.

He shoved me onto the sofa, and his stiff breath hit my neck as he said, "Really pissed now?

"It's just a hand kiss, isn't it? I'll give you ten back."

As he leaned in, I suddenly remembered the odd pillow in Adrian's study.

It had a girl on it—almost identical to Emma.

Even the yellowed photo tucked in his wallet... probably her at 17.

I forced a cold smile, staring him straight in the eyes.