Chapter 2

As I turned to head downstairs, my phone started blowing up with messages from Ryan. [You did that on purpose, didn't you?] [Don't push your luck, Sandra.] [Get your ass back here and take your stuff!]

I glanced at the messages, then just turned my phone off.

I'd spent three years simping over Ryan over his pretty face. Now, I saw no reason to keep going.

*****‍

The next morning, my mom started nagging me about going on another blind date. Usually, I'd make an excuse, but this time, I just agreed without hesitation.

She was over the moon and set it up for that same afternoon at a quiet, upscale cafe.

The guy looked all polite and well put together, but as soon as he started talking, my jaw nearly hit the floor. He said, "Ms. Lane, I believe a wife's highest purpose is to bear children and continue the family line. After we get married, you'll need to quit your job. We'll aim for at least eight children to carry on the family name."

I almost couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes. So this wasn't a date, but a job interview to be someone's personal baby factory?

Still, I swallowed my discomfort and kept up appearances, plastering on my best professional smile.

Just as I was about to make an excuse and slip out, a gentle voice called out from behind me, "Ms. Lane, what a coincidence."

I turned around and locked eyes with a pair of gentle, steady eyes.

The guy looked totally put-together—a light gray shirt tucked into tailored slacks, gold-rimmed glasses, everything about him refined and gentle.

I was sure I'd never met him before, but the kindness in his eyes was obvious. He gently took my wrist, flashed a polite smile at my date, and said, "Hey, my mom's been dying to have you over for dinner. Let's go. She's getting impatient."

I let him pull me to my feet, whispered a quick "sorry" to my date, and the man whisked me right out of the cafe.

Once outside, I pulled my hand back and shot him a grateful smile. "Thanks for getting me out of there. But how did you know my name?"

"I'm Dylan Quinn," he said, giving me a friendly smile. "I know your mom. She's shown me your photos before. Sorry, you just looked like you needed an escape."

He paused for a second, then added, "I promise I'm not a creep."

We ended up chatting by the roadside for a while, talking about work and life. To my surprise, we just clicked.

He actually respected my job as a teacher and said, "Helping shape young minds is such meaningful work."

It was so different from Ryan, who always called teaching "unambitious" and "boring."

We swapped contact info, and when I got home and checked my phone, there was already a text from Ryan. Short and commanding, as always. [Pick me up at Midnight Lounge. Address sent.]

I stared at the message for a few seconds, thinking about everything we'd been through these past three years. Guess I was still a sucker for old times. I went anyway.

*****‍

Just as I reached the bar entrance, the noise inside hit me, with those familiar voices dripping with sarcasm. "Natalie's back. She's gorgeous, well-connected, and actually helpful to Ryan's career. So why's he still keeping that wannabe around?" one said.

"Yeah, she's got nothing going for her except knowing how to keep her head down. She's not even fit to stand in Natalie's shadow," another said.

Ryan stayed silent. His silence said everything.

I pushed open the door, and the second those gossiping guys saw me, their expressions flipped. With fake smiles, they called out, "Hey, Sandra."

I ignored them and headed straight for the bar. Ryan was leaning against it, with a drink in hand. His profile was still annoyingly handsome, but his eyes were glazed with booze.

"Let's go," I said quietly.

Ryan didn't even glance at me. He just grabbed his jacket and walked out, never saying a word to his friends.

The car ride was dead silent the whole way back.

Usually, I'd fill the quiet with chatter, trying to keep things from getting awkward. Today, I couldn't even find the words.

Ryan's expression just kept getting stormier, his knuckles white from gripping the wheel so hard.

Once we parked outside his building, he suddenly grabbed my arm, his grip painfully tight. "Where were you today? Who's the makeup for?"

My heart skipped a beat. I didn't think he'd notice the subtle makeup I'd put on for that date.

I shrugged it off. "Nowhere special."

"Liar!" Ryan snapped, leaning in, his eyes full of fury. "You only wear makeup for your school's open day. Who did you see?"

He sounded so damn entitled, like I'd just committed some unforgivable crime.

I looked at his ridiculously good-looking face, at that smug "I'm always right" expression, and suddenly, it just hit me how tired I was of all this.

I couldn't even be bothered to explain. I just gently pulled my wrist free and stayed silent.

Ryan's face got even darker, his voice laced with impatient warning. "Not going to say anything? Fine. If you won't talk, then we're done."

I'd heard that at least a dozen times.

Whenever he threw a fit and threatened to break up, I'd always be the one playing the sweet girlfriend—bringing him a drink, softening him up, feeding him lines he liked. It always worked, and he'd chill out.

Honestly, I never planned on marrying him. I was just there for his face and the fun—why take it so seriously?

But this time, seeing him acting all high and mighty, tossing out his go-to breakup threat, I just felt exhausted.

Three years of putting up with him, swallowing what I really felt, pretending I didn't care—it was like sand piling up inside my chest, and now I couldn't breathe.

"Alright," I said, meeting his eyes, my voice completely flat, without a hint of emotion.

Ryan froze, like he hadn't heard right. His eyes narrowed. "What did you just say?"

"I said, let's break up," I repeated, every word slow and crystal clear. "I'll come by tomorrow to grab my stuff. I'm leaving now. Bye."

I slipped my hand out of his grip, turned around, and walked off. I didn't bother looking back at his stunned face or at the sound of him rushing after me.