Chapter 1

Winona, the poor kid, went out of her way to slash up my mom's old keepsake.

But my boyfriend, Herman, stepped protectively in front of her, saying he'd pay for the damage but wouldn't apologize.

"Hey, that's just how teenagers are. Way too much pride. Don't make it harder for her," Herman said. "How much do you want? I'll cover it."

Later, just to protect Winona, Herman actually said I was crazy.

Because of what he did, I lost my job and ended up seriously depressed.

After barely surviving, I finally found the courage to face life again.

But then Herman came back to my life again. Every day he'd buy a cup of coffee just because it used to be my favorite.

But the moment I saw him, I suddenly felt sick of coffee. I didn't want it anymore.

After all, there was only a thin line between love and hate.

*****

When I ran into Herman Zimmerman on the street, it suddenly dawned on me that it had already been five years since we split up.

He stood there in the freezing wind, snowflakes settling on his hair, clutching a cup of my favorite coffee.

Seeing me, his eyes were bright with surprise, but also a little awkward. He mumbled, "It's actually pretty comforting when you've got a cold."

I just smiled politely, saying nothing.

But he handed the coffee to me, his voice hesitant and awkward. "Here you are. I'll go grab myself another."

I frowned. Suddenly, I felt sick of coffee. I didn't want it anymore.

"No, you have it," I said.

His hand hung awkwardly in the air. "But I remember you used to love this stuff. How come..." He tried to stifle a cough.

I just ignored the way he tried to hold back his cough and turned to leave.

Even my favorite things could become something I just didn't want anymore. That was just how people were.

Herman hurried after me. "Yolanda, can we talk for a bit?"

"No," I refused him.

I sped up, leaving him behind.

But he kept trailing after me, not giving up. "Yolanda, just for a minute. I really need to talk to you."

I stopped at the curb, frowning. "I have nothing to say to you."

He opened his mouth, his eyes scanning my face. "Yolanda, you've gained a bit of weight. Looks good on you."

I cut him off, not bothering to be polite. "Stop following me, or my husband might get the wrong idea."

His eyes widened in shock, and he just froze. "Your husband? Y-You're actually married?"

Right on cue, a cheerful male voice rang out behind me. "Yolanda, time to get in the car." That was my husband, Jayden Hammond.

I spun around and flashed Jayden a dazzling smile, and then hopped into the passenger seat as the car pulled away.

In the rearview mirror, I saw Herman standing there like an ice sculpture, totally out of place in the noisy street.

Jayden kept his eyes on the road, and then out of the blue asked, "So that was Herman?"

"Yeah," I replied.

Jayden joked, "Isn't he your age? How'd he end up looking so old?"

From that quick glance earlier, I could see the streaks of gray in Herman's hair.

"Who knows? Maybe trying to keep up with a young wife is just wearing him out," I said lazily.

After a beat, Jayden and I cracked up at the same time. Jayden laughed, "Ha, you've got a point."

For a long time, the name Herman Zimmerman felt like a cruel curse hanging over me.

Whenever someone brought him up, I'd start trembling and break out in a cold sweat. The doctor said it was a physical reaction to psychological trauma.

So no one around me ever dared to even mention his name.

It wasn't until Jayden came into my life that I finally started to let go of all that mess from before.

Honestly, I never thought there'd come a day when I could just make light of the whole thing with Herman.

"He suddenly showed up. Do you think he's trying to get back together with you?" Jayden asked, a trace of worry in his brows. His sharp eyes looked even deeper with concern.

"No way. He and Winona are so madly in love. There's no way he'd come looking for me," I replied.

Jayden glanced at me, worried, but when he saw I was completely calm, he finally relaxed.

"Spill it. How did those two even hook up?" Jayden teased.

This was the first time Jayden had ever brought up that ugly chapter of my past.

I stared out the window, watching the snowflakes drift down in silence.

The first time I met Winona Godfrey was when the first snow started falling.

My coworker was out on maternity leave, so I got pulled in halfway through the semester. That was how I ended up as Winona's literature teacher and her homeroom teacher.

She was the kind of girl people would barely notice in class—plain looks, average grades, nothing that stood out.

Someone like her just faded into the background. I didn't really see her until that first snowfall.

That morning, during exercises, the other students headed out in little groups.

Only Winona walked at the very back, all alone, wrapped up tight in her thin, worn-out coat.

"Winona, it's snowing out. Why aren't you bundled up?" I called out, walking over to her.

I reached for her hand. It was ice-cold, which made me shiver inside.

Her lips quivered as she whispered, "I only have one puffer coat. I washed it yesterday, and it's still wet."

I remembered that puffer coat. It was once red, but now faded to a washed-out orange. The filling inside was lumpy—thin in some places, thick in others. She wouldn't last the winter in it.

Seeing Winona standing there, so thin and small, I couldn't help but think of myself back then.

Back then, I was just as lost, and it was only thanks to my teacher that I made it through the roughest patch in my life.

After a quick thought, I gave her shoulder a gentle pat. "You don't have to go out today. Just stay here in the classroom."

Before school finished, I managed to slip home for a bit.