Chapter 2

I pushed open the bedroom door and walked to the entryway.

The butler was already waiting there, holding a black umbrella and a camel-colored cloak. "Mrs. Lane, Mr. Lane said if you go out late at night and catch a chill, it wouldn't look good for the Lanes' reputation as a happy couple."

I glanced at the cloak.

My husband had been the same in my previous life.

He never chased after me or said a word, but he'd always have someone bring me an umbrella, a coat, or a glass of water at the right temperature.

It made me feel like he cared, but deep down, it was never really for me, it was for show.

All he cared about was keeping the title of "Mrs. Lane" spotless.

I walked past the butler, pulled open the front door, and the cold early winter wind hit me right in the neck.

My phone buzzed again.

A friend request popped up.

Rachel's profile picture was a silhouette.

The verification message read: [It's been five years. I only want to hear how he's doing from you. Don't overthink it, okay?]

I stared at those words for three seconds, my mind blank.

Then, without another thought, I tapped "Accept."

*****

Rachel had picked a café tucked away in the alley next to our old campus.

She was sitting by the window, wearing a creamy white sweater, her hair tied back loosely. She looked like she'd lost quite a bit of weight since college.

She stood up and came over to give me a hug first. "Long time no see."

She smelled faintly of gardenias.

I sat down without ordering anything.

She kept her head down, stirring her latte, the spoon clinking softly against the cup. "Honestly, I went back and forth for a long time before deciding to reach out to you."

Then she pulled out a yellowed document from her bag and slid it across the table to me.

It was a copy of an old visa, dated five years back.

Her voice caught in her throat. "Edward's been keeping this for me all these years.

"I left in such a rush back then, I didn't even have time to grab most of my stuff.

"All these years I kept thinking about finding the right moment to get it back, but I was afraid I'd be bothering you and Edward."

I glanced at the visa copy.

Edward's name wasn't on it.

I cut in. "He kept this visa copy for you?

"So what?"

Rachel's eyes reddened in an instant. "Nothing.

"I only... Listen to this."

She scrolled through her phone and played a recording.

The audio was really muffled, like it was recorded from behind a door.

Edward's voice could be heard. He sounded worn out. "Don't push her. I'll take the blame for everything."

And that was it.

There was no context, no way to tell who he was talking to or who he was talking about.

Rachel stopped the recording and looked up at me, her eyes brimming with tears. "I got into some trouble overseas, and he... he really helped me out a lot.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I only..."

I picked up the glass of ice water I hadn't touched and poured it into the potted plant on the table.

Some water splashed onto the sleeve of her creamy sweater.

I stood up. "Rachel.

"Don't put on this whole undying-love act in front of me.

"If you've got something to say, spit it out. Don't beat around the bush.

"If you want Edward, you should go to him, not me."

Rachel froze, her lips parted as if she wanted to say something.

But I didn't wait for her to respond. I grabbed my bag and walked out.

As I pushed open the café's glass door, a sleek black SUV was parked right outside.

A bodyguard in a crisp suit, holding an umbrella, strode in, passed right by me, and headed straight for Rachel, inclining his head respectfully. "Miss Summers, Mr. Lane is waiting for you in the car."

I turned back.

Rachel's expression shifted from shock to joy in a heartbeat.

She scooped up her things from the table and dashed after the bodyguard.

The back window of the SUV didn't roll down.

With those dark tinted windows, I couldn't see a thing inside.

But I knew Edward was in there.

The car drove off.

I stood there, the cold rain starting to fall, tiny drops landing softly on my shoulders.

At seven that evening, the alumni group chat blew up.

Rachel's bestie posted a blurry candid shot. Rachel bending to get into the car, with the license plate of that black SUV clearly visible in the background.

Rachel replied instantly: [Don't post that. Mrs. Lane will be heartbroken if she sees it. I only want to catch a glimpse of him from the sidelines.]

The group chat exploded.