Chapter 2

I stumbled upon Vicky's most recent post.

[He rushed over to deliver medication when I caught a cold.]

I was in excruciating agony, yet Zach deserted me without a second thought because of Vicky's trivial ailment.

In that instant, I couldn't help but chuckle—laughing at how absurd and pathetic I had become. However, as I laughed, tears began to roll down my cheeks.

Dabbing them away, I grabbed my phone and sent a message to the professor:

[Professor, I'll be ready to head to Florida in seven days.]

I majored in design during my university years and received an offer from an overseas professor to continue my education. I declined the opportunity then because I couldn't bear the thought of being apart from Zach.

But the professor remained persistent, and we stayed in contact. For the first time, I accepted his proposal. He responded immediately, sending a flurry of excited messages.

After replying to all of them, I drifted off to sleep in the hospital room.

I was dozing when the sudden sound of my phone jolted me awake. On the other end, Zach's familiar, intoxicated voice came through.

"Yvette, come get me. You need to come get me."

His sibling took over the call, providing me with the bar's location. I wavered for a moment but ultimately decided to go.

The bar's subdued lighting cast a murky haze over the scene. There was Zach, cradled in Vicky's embrace, kissing her passionately.

His brothers mocked him nearby.

"Zach, you and the eldest sister-in-law are still the perfect pair!"

"Zach, now that Yvette Lane's returned, you can finally stop putting up with Vicky's nonsense!"

My unexpected arrival silenced their jeers.

I could comprehend their viewpoint. From an outsider's perspective, it must have appeared as though I was repaying Zach's kindness. Perhaps even Zach himself believed that.

Despite being in Vicky's arms, the moment Zach spotted me, he stumbled over and clung to me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Yvette, hey, baby's here," he slurred drunkenly.

I was torn between laughter and tears at his behavior. He always acted like a spoiled child when drunk.

At Zach's insistence, I assisted him to the parking area.

The following morning, when he awoke, his face was clouded with irritation.

He barely touched the breakfast the maid brought, massaging his temples instead.

"You didn't prepare my hangover soup today," he complained.

I put down my sandwich, unsure how to respond.

I had already resolved to remove Zach from my life.

I simply gazed at him silently, offering no reply. My indifference made him uneasy, and he spoke again, anxiously:

"I didn't do anything wrong last night, did I?"

I had witnessed his intimacy with Vicky and heard his brothers' taunts. But I felt nothing anymore. I needed moments like these—painful and undeniable truths—to strengthen my resolve.

My silence only intensified his guilt. He suggested dinner that evening, speaking in a flattering tone.

We met at a restaurant later that night.

The private dining area was elegantly decorated, with a stunning view of the Bund. But Zach's sudden departure to fetch wine turned into an encounter with Vicky.

When he returned, he explained briefly, "Just bumped into a friend."

I smiled faintly and nodded, feigning indifference.

As I ate quietly, I observed them conversing just outside the room.

After Zach stepped away again, Vicky entered, her gaze sharp and confrontational.

"Didn't you see it all?" she sneered.

I ignored her remark, but she grabbed my collar, her previously composed demeanor replaced with rage.

"Don't think that just because he went home with you last night, you've won."

I calmly pushed her arm away and maintained my distance. Before I could respond, her lips curled into a strange smile. She suddenly leaned back, allowing herself to fall.

Zach's angry voice echoed as he rushed into the room.

"Yvette, what are you doing?"

He hurried to help Vicky up as she leaned weakly against his chest.

In a trembling, wronged tone, she murmured, "Zach, it's alright. I just lost my balance."