Chapter 2

The line stayed eerily quiet for what felt like an age.

It had been so long that I started wondering if Damon was even still there.

Hesitantly, I called his name.

All of a sudden, there was a burst of noise, like someone had just grabbed the phone.

Then, that super familiar voice I'd been hearing for years suddenly burst through the line.

That voice was playful, adorable, full of life, a total ball of sunshine. "Angie, come and get Damon off my case. I just bumped myself, told him it's nothing, but he insists on pulling up my shirt to check.

"Geez, Damon, why are you always so clingy? Quit fussing with my clothes. Do you bug Angie like this at home, too?"

After a moment, I had no idea what was happening at their end. I heard some shuffling noises, then a low but piercing moan that stabbed straight through my eardrums.

For a moment, I actually found it ridiculous.

That wasn't the first time Callie Rich had interrupted a call between me and Damon. For the past ten years, her presence was like a shadow, lingering in every part of our lives.

Callie's voice came through. "Damon, I've got a fever and I wanna go out and play. Carry me, and you're staying at my place tonight, okay?"

Nausea crashed over me like a sudden rainstorm, hitting out of nowhere.

It rose from my stomach to my chest, stinging my throat, eyes, and even my nose.

I hung up, blocked Damon, and hobbled over to pick up my scooter from the corner.

I received no message from Damon by the time I made it home.

I packed up the newlywed apartment I'd spent nearly a month setting up in under three hours.

I took our wedding photo off the wall and set it aside in the corner.

For the rest of the time, I just stared blankly at that photo for almost an hour.

They were just simple classic wedding shots—no fancy backgrounds, no glitz, no picture-perfect touches, no awkward staged closeness.

It was just the two of us, standing against a plain white wall, camera giving a quiet click, and that was all.

But out of thousands of shots, somehow I ended up choosing this one, and only this one.

Maybe it was because, in that second, Damon was looking right at me.

And in his gaze, I caught a glimpse of something that felt like love, which I'd thought had disappeared for ages, if it were ever love.

The mover finished clearing out the very last thing.

When he picked up the wedding photo, he stopped for a second, looking at me, unsure what to do.

I gave him a small smile, sent the money over to his phone, and left the photo where it was.

It stayed behind in the apartment I'd carefully decorated, along with everything else from my past.

The mover left with all the stuff, and I was finishing up, about to head out myself.

Just then, the doorbell rang, and I heard shuffling sounds at the door.

I bumped right into Damon, who was just about to walk in.

His hand froze on the doorknob, and as soon as he saw me, his brow furrowed hard.

Suddenly, I just found it funny.

I had no clue when Damon's love for me turned into straight-up annoyance and impatience. I always thought I had him all figured out, but I never saw it coming.

He was still stuck on calling me a drama queen after I canceled the wedding car.

The moment he saw me, he must've thought I was still pissed.

But honestly, it was not like I cared anymore.

My heart went numb, and nothing could stir up my emotions anymore.

But what really got me was how some people could always shatter whatever boundaries you thought you had left, even when you thought you couldn't sink any lower.

Before I even got a chance to hand Damon the keys, Callie somehow sneaked in through the doorway while he was still standing there.

She hurried up to me and gave my hand a warm, fake-friendly squeeze.

She said, "Oh my gosh, Angie! This is your wedding photo? It's beautiful. I've always wanted a classic shot like this, seriously. But when Damon and I tried to take pictures together, he couldn't stop goofing off. He messed up my hair and makeup every single time. He's such a handful, you know.

"See? He always managed to leave his mark all over me. So all our wedding photos are just us giggling, not formal at all.

"And you know what? Damon and I took our wedding photos on the same day as you. He figured we could save time by doing it together. You went after me, right? I know it because it's already dark outside in your shot. Damon kept saying I was more important and you were the easygoing one, so that's how it ended up like this. Otherwise, I never would've agreed to it."

"Really?" I said, barely bothering to make a sound. It was just a cold, indifferent murmur.

My gaze wandered from all those cozy wedding shots straight to Damon's face.

Weren't they supposed to be just friends? So why did they take wedding photos, and why did they do it before us? Whatever. I couldn't even bring myself to care, let alone ask anymore.

Suddenly, I was just curious.

"Damon, what made you want to marry me?" I asked, my voice flat and distant.