Chapter 2

I took Jonathan to one of the apartments under my name.

As soon as we stepped inside, Jonathan drifted into the bathroom like a ghost, as if he'd already been told what to do.

I was caught off guard for a second, but then I realized what he was thinking and couldn't help but chuckle to myself.

I sat down on the couch and made myself a cup of tea.

Sure enough, Jonathan came out of the bathroom wearing a bathrobe not long after.

He was almost too eager to please.

Before he even got close, his fingers were already loosening the belt of his robe.

I shot a glance at his jade-like skin and those sharply defined abs, my gaze growing a little darker.

But I stopped his hand and shook my head at him. "That's not what I'm after."

He frowned, looking puzzled, but did as he was told and pulled his robe closed.

I couldn't help but look away, a little disappointed.

I said, "Let me take a look at your arm."

Jonathan shook his head. "It's nothing, doesn't hurt anymore."

I ignored him and rolled up his sleeve anyway. The bruises had already turned deep purple.

Jonathan refused to go to the hospital.

So I just took some ointment and gently applied it to his arm.

He kept watching me the whole time.

I understood him well. After everything he'd been through, he wasn't afraid of someone wanting something from him. In his own mind, he had already lost everything.

What unsettled him was the idea of someone wanting nothing at all.

He didn't realize that what looks free was sometimes the most expensive thing there was.

I liked him when we were young.

But he was already seeing someone.

She was a girl from the class next door, the kind everyone noticed. Bright, outgoing, always smiling. Her name was Grace Thompson.

After school or during lunch, I would often see them standing together.

They looked perfect. The love in their eyes for each other was open and undeniable.

It was so beautiful that I never allowed myself to want anything more.

Besides, I was busy surviving. Studying. Working part-time jobs. Trying to escape poverty.

The weight of life pressed down on me. Love felt distant, like something from a different world.

All those vague feelings were buried deep inside me, slowly fermenting into something unripe and stubborn.

The more successful I became, the harder it was to forget the past.

What I had buried for all those years was never just shallow desire.

I wanted him to fall for me, to belong to me, heart and soul.

In the days that followed, Jonathan and I slipped into something that looked a lot like normal.

We went shopping, watched movies, did all the ordinary things couples did.

At first, he felt stiff, almost mechanical, like he was following a checklist instead of his heart. But little by little, he loosened up.

Sometimes, when I was half asleep, half awake, I'd feel him lean in and steal a kiss, gentle and careful.

On the morning of Valentine Day, before dawn had fully broken, he quietly got out of bed and made me a cake with his own hands. Inside the bedroom wardrobe, he hid a bouquet of pink roses, my favorite.

I really thought, maybe he was finally letting me into his heart.

Then his ex came back. They had been together for seven years. Grace returned to the city, and just like that, everything I thought I understood began to crack.

I found the messages by accident. His phone lit up, and there they were. One after another. Some of them were confessions. Some were apologies. All of them were from Grace.

Jonathan hadn't replied to a single one. But he hadn't blocked her either. He hadn't deleted the chat.

It just showed how messed up he really was inside.

Lately, Jonathan keeps zoning out when we're together.

Take that afternoon, for example. I asked him what movie he wanted to see. Once. Twice. By the third time, he finally snapped back and said, "Sorry, what? It's noisy around here. You pick. I'm good with whatever."

I looked at him and knew exactly what that was. He wasn't listening. He was brushing me off.

He must have realized it too, because he leaned in and kissed my temple, a little guilty, a little rushed. "Didn't you say you wanted milkshake earlier? I'll go grab one."

I said okay.

I waited. And waited. The movie started, and he still hadn't come back.

I was irritated. I'd canceled an international meeting for this date, rearranged my entire schedule, and now here I was, sitting alone, while Jonathan zoned out and somehow managed to turn a five minute milkshake run into a full hour.

My plans for the rest of the day were completely wrecked.

Sent him a bunch of texts, but he ghosted me. So I had to go look for him myself.

And that was when I saw what was happening right in front of me.