Chapter 2
The photo frame held a picture of Camdyn and Tatum. Virginia had looked at that photo for three years, catching sight of it every night before bed.
At first, it felt like a punch to the gut, but eventually, she got used to it. After a while, it became something she relied on—a way to remind herself of her place in this room.
Virginia put the frame back and flopped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
The ceiling was white, the chandelier was crystal, and the bedding was silk. She'd just replaced it last month, and even after the discount, it still cost her nearly 1,600 dollars.
She spent a whole month's writing pay on it, just because Camdyn liked how silk felt when he slept.
She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow.
The pillow still carried Camdyn's scent—a faint mix of cedar and tobacco. She took a deep breath, and suddenly, she felt drained.
She'd been tired for three years.
It wasn't the kind of tired you feel in your body. It was the kind that kept her heart hanging in midair, never able to settle.
She never knew when she'd be replaced, never knew when Camdyn would look at her and say, "You can go now."
So she tiptoed through every day, making every meal perfect, cleaning every corner, showing up when he needed her, and vanishing when he didn't.
Her phone buzzed again.
She picked it up and saw someone in the shared apartment group chat asking about rent. She scrolled up and found her own message from three months ago: [I found a new place, so I'm not renewing.]
She'd lived in that shared apartment for two years. After she started living with Camdyn, she moved out.
The day she left, her roommate asked, "Is your boyfriend good to you?"
She smiled and said, "Yeah, he's great."
Her roommate nodded, "That's good. If you ever need a place, you can always come back."
She never went back.
When Camdyn came in, Virginia was already in bed, fresh out of the shower.
He didn't bother with the lights, just changed his clothes in the dark. Virginia kept her eyes shut, pretending to be asleep as she listened to the faint rustling.
The mattress dipped when he settled on the other side.
There was a good eight inches of space between them—just enough to feel like they were worlds apart.
After a long silence, Virginia spoke softly, "How long is Tatum staying?"
Camdyn said nothing.
She started to ask, "Are you—"
"Just go to sleep," he interrupted.
Virginia fell silent.
In the darkness, she kept her eyes open, watching the faint light slip through the gap in the curtains. It was the distant streetlight, blinking on and off, like some kind of signal.
When Virginia woke up the next morning, Camdyn was already gone.
On the nightstand, there was a card with a note tucked underneath. The note just said: [Treat yourself to something nice.]
Virginia stared at the card for a long time. Then she put the card and the note in the drawer, got up, and went to wash up.
When Virginia walked out of the bedroom, she saw Tatum sitting at the dining table, having coffee.
"Morning," Tatum greeted her with a smile. "Camdyn told me to let you know he's on a business trip for the next few days."
Virginia nodded and walked into the kitchen.
"Do you want some coffee?" Tatum called from behind. "I made extra."
"No, thanks," Virginia said.
Virginia grabbed some milk from the fridge, poured it into a cup, and put it in the microwave. Thirty seconds later, it beeped. She took out the hot milk and sat down opposite Tatum.
They sat across the table from each other, neither saying a word.
Sunlight poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, lighting up Tatum's face. She really was beautiful—the kind of beauty that only came from being carefully protected.
Her skin was pale and flawless, her eyes calm, her whole expression serene, like a delicate flower raised in a greenhouse.
"Virginia," Tatum said, setting her cup down, "Can we have a chat?"
Virginia took a sip of her milk.
"I know what's on your mind," Tatum said, "but it's not like that between Camdyn and me."
She didn't reply.
"We've known each other since we were little," Tatum went on. "Our parents were friends, so we basically grew up together. Then I went overseas for school, and we lost touch for a while. He's always treated me like a little sister."
Virginia stared at her milk, watching the thin film ring around the rim of the cup.
"Camdyn's mentioned you before," Tatum continued. "He said you're really mature and sensible, always looking out for him.
"I came back mostly to see how he's doing. He's always been pretty hopeless at taking care of himself."
Virginia looked up and asked, "What are you trying to say?"
Tatum paused and then smiled. "It's nothing, really. I just wanted to explain so you don't get the wrong impression."
Virginia set her cup down. "There's no misunderstanding."
She got up, dropped her cup in the sink, headed to the bedroom, changed, grabbed her bag, and left.
As she closed the door, she caught Tatum on the phone, "She seemed kind of upset. I'm not sure. Maybe I messed up what I said."