Chapter 2

It had been ten years.

I met him because of a chestnut cake, but it was my mom who made us fall in love.

Back then, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. To cheer her up, I rushed to the most popular shop in the city to buy a chestnut cake.

That day, I got lucky and managed to grab the last one.

Just as I was about to take it, a man rushed in and slapped a wad of cash down on my cake. "I'll take this," he said.

I shook my head.

He put down another wad.

I kept shaking my head.

It wasn't until the pile of cash was enough to pay for a full cycle of my mom's medication that I finally slid the cake over to him and gave him a smile.

He was stunned, staring at me, and asked for my number. I didn't give it to him, so he trailed me all the way to the hospital.

I figured maybe he had me all figured out, or maybe he thought I was interesting, or maybe he was annoyed.

But I couldn't be bothered with his spur-of-the-moment chase.

Three months later, in the early hours when my mom's condition took a turn for the worse, I was desperate and called him.

He showed up in his pajamas and, with one phone call, brought in the most authoritative medical team in the state.

As my mom was wheeled into the operating room, I agreed to be his girlfriend.

From that moment on, Ryan, the once carefree rich kid, finally settled down. He stopped staying out all night, stopped living wild and free; now he had eyes only for me.

Even after that, every time we argued, every time I wanted to leave, I'd remember that night.

Ryan stood there in his pajamas and said, "Don't be afraid. I'm here."

He'd always bring up my mom or show up with that chestnut cake to win me over one more time.

Even after nine years together, Ryan finally confessed that, thanks to his messed-up family, he had always been a commitment-phobe, afraid of marriage, terrified of making it official.

He bailed on me six times when we were supposed to get our marriage license, and I forgave him every single time.

But the seventh time? I couldn't let it slide anymore.

Because of the constant tension between us was no longer here; my mom passed away.

It happened this morning, right after Ryan stormed out of the city hall.

My mom's last wish was for me to get my marriage license with her best friend's son, Alex Mason.

Before she said that, she was yelling at me, asking why I would ever become someone's mistress.

She told me Charlotte had confronted her, said Ryan and she had already thrown an engagement party, and both families had met.

"And you? Have you ever met his parents?" Mom sobbed. "You said you two were married, that you got your marriage license, but you didn't, did you?"

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

"Is it because of my illness?" Her tears rolled down her cheeks. "It's my fault. I've already found you someone to settle down with. Please, promise me you'll do it, okay?"

Mom stood on the rooftop, the morning wind billowing her thin hospital gown. She had lost so much weight.

"Mom, please come down!" I called out, barely able to keep my eyes open against the wind.

"You must bring your marriage certificate with Alex when you come to see me!" she shouted.

"I promise. I promise you. Please, come down!" I begged.

"I know you're a good girl. It's my fault. I've been a burden to you. You must be with Alex..." she said.

Mom didn't come down. The moment she leapt, I saw her face; she was smiling.

After that, everything was a blur.

All I remember was when mom's best friend, Grace Mason, showed up with Alex, she broke down and sobbed uncontrollably.

Alex was the only one who kept it together, handling everything.

It wasn't until the doctor told us we needed a death certificate before we could claim Mom's ashes that it hit me.

Both the death certificate and the marriage license had to be handled at the city hall.

When we went back there, all I could think about was Mom's smile, her last words, and the seven times Ryan bailed on me.

So, acting on impulse, I asked Alex if he'd be willing to register our marriage right then. And, to my shock, he actually nodded.

After we got our marriage license, he wanted to bring me back to the hospital, but I stubbornly insisted he leave first.

I still had no idea how to break the news to Ryan.

"What are you thinking about?" Ryan's voice brought me back to reality. The car was already parked in the villa's garage.

"Nothing," I replied, marching inside and heading straight upstairs.

I was so tired. All I wanted was to sleep. I would deal with it tomorrow.

"Emily," Ryan called out, stopping me.

I turned around. He set the cake on the dining table, came over, and tried to pull me toward him.

"Didn't you say you wanted some cake?" he asked.

Before Ryan could touch me, I stepped back.

He paused, pressed his lips together, then opened the box, carefully picked out the whole chestnuts, and pushed the other half of the cake toward me.

In a daze, I remembered. I loved chestnut-flavored cake, but I never liked the whole chestnuts; they were always too tough for me.

Ryan always said he liked the whole chestnuts.

He used to say we were like two puzzle pieces coming together, meant to be.

I looked at those chestnuts Ryan had set aside for me and let out a bittersweet smile.

Maybe this was destined to be our last meal together.

Ryan looked much more relaxed, sounding cheerful. "Feeling better now? I've already scheduled us for another try at the city hall."

I opened my mouth, wanting to tell him it wasn't necessary, almost blurting out everything right then.

But before I could say anything, his phone rang; it was that familiar violin ringtone again.

Ryan hung up, glanced at me, and spoke quickly, "Something urgent at work. You should get some sleep."

The door slammed shut, and I stood there, lost in thought for a long time.

Then, I ate the cake, bite after bite, and finished his share, too.

It still tasted awful, so bitter.

Mom, I was sorry. I really messed up.

I buried my face in my hands and finally let myself cry, the kind of gut-wrenching sobs, until everything went dark.