Chapter 1

"Edward, your mom wants you home for dinner this weekend. She's set up a blind date for you." I was ironing his suit, my voice soft, testing the waters.

His hands stilled on his tie. He met my eyes in the mirror, his gaze indifferent. "Yeah, I know."

The iron crashed onto the board, steam clouding my vision.

"You thought we were dating?" He laughed, ruffling my hair like I was a pet. "We've just hooked up a few times, Emma. Are you out of your mind?"

I loved him for thirteen years. And in his eyes, it was nothing but a joke.

*****

"Edward, your mom wants you home for dinner this weekend. She's set up a blind date for you," I said, doing my best to sound nonchalant as I ironed his suit.

Edward Foster's hands stilled on his tie. He met my eyes in the mirror, his gaze indifferent. "Yeah, I know."

The iron nearly scorched my fingers, and I looked up, unable to believe what I'd just heard. "You know?"

"Mom mentioned it last week," Edward replied, tweaking the knot in his tie as casually as if he were talking about the weather. "It's the heiress of Lane Group. Her name's Charlotte Lane."

It felt like a fist had clamped around my heart. The iron crashed onto the ironing board, steam hissing out in a cloud.

"What's wrong?" Edward finally turned around, frowning slightly.

"You... you're really going on a blind date?" My voice trembled. "But... aren't we..."

"What do you wanna say?" Edward tilted his head, giving me the look I knew too well—the teasing one that said I was an idiot.

My face was burning, and I found myself twisting the hem of my shirt without thinking. "I thought... we were dating."

Edward let out a laugh, not gentle, but full of mockery, like he was looking down at me from some unreachable height.

"Emma, are you out of your mind?" Edward came over and ruffled my hair like I was a pet. "We grew up together, sure, and we've just hooked up a few times. But you really think that means we're in a relationship?"

My blood froze. I couldn't believe he said we had just slept together a few times.

"Then..." I could barely get the words out. "Why did you stay with me all night when I was sick? Why did you always pick me up after work? And why—"

"Because we're friends," Edward interrupted, his voice light but merciless. "Isn't that what friends are supposed to do for each other?"

I bit my lip so hard that I tasted blood. In my mind, all those moments from the past six months flashed by—the late-night kisses, the warmth of his body holding me through the night, that miserable attempt at oatmeal he made for me...

Turned out, to him, all of that was nothing more than "just friends" stuff.

"Oh, right," Edward said as if it just crossed his mind, heading for his closet. "What am I supposed to wear for the blind date this weekend? You've got a good eye. Help me pick something out."

I froze in place, feeling my whole body going cold. He actually wanted me to pick his outfit for his blind date—right after humiliating me when I confessed.

"Edward," I said, my voice unusually calm. "Do you know how long I've loved you?"

With his back to me, he paused for a moment and then went on rifling through his closet. "Probably... since high school, right?"

"For thirteen years," I said, my voice shaking. "An entire thirteen years."

He finally turned to face me, expression impossible to read. "Emma..."

"You know what's really pathetic?" I tried to smile, but it came out uglier than crying. "I actually thought you felt the same."

Edward's face flickered for a second and then slid right back into that lazy smirk. "Seriously, don't overthink it. Isn't this fine the way it is?"

"Fine?" I repeated his word, every syllable slicing my throat. "Just being your Plan B? The friend who's always there whenever you snap your fingers?"

"If that's how you want to put it, suit yourself," Edward shot back, his brow furrowing with impatience. "Just be mature, alright?"

Those three words shattered me inside.

"You want mature, huh? I'll show you then," I said, laying the iron down and heading straight for the door.

"Where are you going?" Edward called after me.

"Home," I shot back, not turning around. "And don't expect me to come back. Ever."

Edward let out a mocking laugh. "Here we go again. You throw a fit, storm off, and by tomorrow, you'll be back in my kitchen like nothing ever happened."

My hand gripped the doorknob, and suddenly, I felt completely exhausted. He was right. Every time we fought, it was always me swallowing my pride, caving in, and coming back for more.

But this time, I told myself that everything was different.

"Edward," I said, steadying my voice with a deep breath. "It's over."

"Suit yourself," he said, sounding indifferent. "I'm not changing the code. Whenever you get your act together, you can come back anytime."

I didn't answer. I closed the door softly behind me.

As I walked out of the apartment building, it started to rain. I didn't bother with an umbrella. Cold drops hit my face and blended with the warmth of my tears.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. When I looked, it was a call from Sophia, Edward's mother.

"Emma, did that rascal Edward upset you again?" Sophia's voice was laced with worry. "I just called him, and he said you ran out, all upset—"

"Sophia," I cut her off, my voice raw. "Edward agreed to the blind date."

There was a brief pause on the other end.

"Charlotte Lane?" Sophia sighed. "I knew it. Emma, don't feel too bad. Edward will regret it sooner or later."

I gave a bitter laugh. "No, Sophia. He doesn't care about me at all."

"Nonsense," Sophia said, her voice suddenly full of emotion. "He has only ever had eyes for you, ever since he was a kid. His dad and I forced him into this blind date. The Lane Group's project is huge for the company."

My heart skipped a beat, but I quickly steadied myself. That was not an excuse. Even if he was forced into it, he still had no right to humiliate me like that.

"Sophia, thank you for always being so nice to me," I said softly. "But this time, I'm really tired."

After I hung up, I stood alone in the rain, gazing at the photo on my phone—Edward had his arm around me. It was taken last year on my birthday. For so long, I honestly believed the look in his eyes was love.

But right then, I realized it was nothing more than charity—just something he handed out, like spare change.

I pressed my thumb down and deleted the picture without a second thought.

Just then, a new WhatsApp notification lit up my screen. It was from Brian West, one of my seniors in college and now the hot-shot editor-in-chief at our publisher.

Brian: [Emma, I've got a major project for you next Monday. Got time to talk?]

I stared at the message for ages before my fingers finally started to move. [Sure, Brian. See you at the office tomorrow.]

The rain was falling harder and harder, but deep down, I felt something shift—a quiet strength waking up inside me. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to start living for myself.

I glanced up at Edward's apartment one last time, then took a breath and stepped out into the rain without looking back.