Chapter 3

Heavy-hearted, I went downstairs and stepped into the night, letting the darkness swallow me.

Neon lights flickered overhead, the streets loud and alive—just as they had been seven years ago when I first arrived in this city.

Back then, when I first started college, money was tight at home. So I signed up for a work-study gig as a supermarket stock clerk, just to stay afloat.

Our place was a tiny town in one of those unheard-of cities. My dad died from carbon monoxide poisoning when I was in third grade, leaving Mom to raise me alone. After I got into college, it was as if the weight she had carried for years finally crushed her, and her health collapsed.

My relatives scraped together enough cash to cover my first year's tuition, but after that, I had to hustle—working every odd job I could find, just to pay the bills and cover Mom's medication.

And it was during those supermarket shifts that I first met Ryan.

That day, I was wearing a white dress—a hand-me-down from my cousin who'd bought a size too small. It was one of the few pretty things I owned.

I was dusting off some items that had been sitting unsold for ages. When I stepped back, I accidentally trod on a guy's shoe. Instantly, I bowed my head, flustered, and apologized.

He said curtly, "It's fine," but when he turned and saw me, there was a brief flicker of surprise in his eyes.

And when I looked up and saw his face, I froze. I knew him.

Everyone on campus knew Ryan from the School of Finance. He gave a speech at freshman orientation, and all the girls in the crowd lost their minds over him.

His family was loaded, he was top of his class, and he was ridiculously handsome—a total heartthrob and basically a campus legend.

Yet this amazing guy set his sights on me and started chasing me, just like that.

And of course, I fell for him. Hard.

It was another summer, and as I was walking around the track, he stopped me and asked, "Can I chase you?"

I met his deep and resolute gaze, and just like that, I was hooked.

The thrill and shock I felt then are still vivid in my memory. His words burst through my gloom like fireworks, lighting up the shadows in my life and making my heart flutter wildly.

I whispered, "You don't have to."

Ryan's starry eyes dimmed, and he turned as if to leave.

Panic hit me, and I blurted, "I mean—you don't need to chase me, I already want to be with you!"

I couldn't help but want to cling to that light, ready to stay by his side, no matter what it took.

But I didn't realize that even the most beautiful fireworks vanished in a blink, leaving behind nothing but choking smoke, burning ashes, and a scene of ruin.

After we got together, Ryan was never really warm. Sometimes when he looked at me, it felt like his eyes just glazed right past me, searching for some faraway place I could never see.

He had a thing for me in cream or off-white, so pretty much every single outfit he picked for me was in that shade.

He also loved seeing me smile, and every time I did, his eyes lit up like stars.

I always thought that was love. But seeing Emily today made me realize—these seven years were nothing more than my own wishful longing.

It was like plunging headlong into a valley where my feelings found no echo, and I stayed lost in that silence for seven years.

I tilted my head back, pressing my hands against my eyes and face.

I tried to hold back my tears, using the chill of my palms to numb the ache.

I had been walking for hours without even realizing it. Beyond the glow of the city lights, the night sky stretched above me—silent, vast, and impossibly deep.

The streets were eerily quiet, so the sudden burst of laughter and shouting cut through the night, instantly drawing my attention.

I followed the noise and saw Ryan and his friends gathered outside a bar.

The bar belonged to one of his close friends. Ryan had brought me there once—the last gathering of his friends I ever attended.

Memories of that unbearable day surged up, threatening to overwhelm me. I balled my hands into fists until they ached, as if the pain could force those sorrowful thoughts away.

Ryan seemed drunk—his cheeks flushed, his stance unsteady as he leaned on a friend's arm. Emily stood beside him, gazing at his profile with a faint, tender smile.

His friends were egging Emily on to take Ryan home, but he just shook his head and waved them off.

Then, the friend holding him up suddenly let go, and Ryan stumbled, thrown off balance.

Emily rushed forward to catch him, his long arm falling over her shoulder as his whole weight tipped into her.

Another round of teasing laughter erupted. Emily's face flushed as she shot the group a playful yet irritated glare.

Then, her eyes found me, standing not far behind the crowd, silently watching.

Her playful smile froze before she could take it back, slowly fading into a cold expression.

Seeing her reaction, the others turned to look. When they spotted me, someone muttered under their breath, "Talk about a buzzkill."