Chapter 1

Seven years after our breakup, I ran into Jonathan Reed by chance.

Things weren't the same anymore. He looked polished and handsome, with a beautiful girlfriend by his side.

I, on the other hand, looked plain and out of place, dressed in worn, faded clothes.

At the table, someone asked, "Jonathan, what did you ever see in her?"

He answered casually, "I don't remember."

But after it was over, he cornered me in the stairwell.

*****

I never imagined that after all these years, this would be how I ran into Jonathan again.

At my advisor's birthday banquet, people were already whispering.

"Did you hear? Jonathan's coming tonight."

A few former classmates kept glancing at me, their looks subtle but deliberate.

Before the chatter died down, the doors to the hall opened, and he walked in.

Seven years had only made him more polished, more striking.

Caught off guard, I met his gaze as he scanned the room.

My chest tightened, and I quickly looked down.

"Emily, what have you been up to all these years? You've completely disappeared from everyone."

Someone let out a laugh.

"You studied photography, right? How do you still look so out of place after all this time?"

"If Vivian hadn't mentioned it, I wouldn't have even recognized you."

I tightened my grip on my glass and said nothing.

Jonathan lifted his eyes and swept a casual glance over the group, as if none of it concerned him.

The conversation soon shifted to him.

"Jonathan, your latest short film got shortlisted again, right? You must be running out of room for all those awards."

"Come on, share your secret to success."

A faint smile lingered at the corner of his lips as he handled the attention with ease.

Someone teased, "You've worked with so many beautiful women. Not a single one caught your eye?"

His hand around the glass paused, just for a fraction of a second.

He looked up, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I've been too busy to think about that."

From start to finish, I didn't dare look up.

But it seemed like everyone else was eager for a spectacle.

"Emily, are you still doing photography? Got any work to show?"

The question came from Rachel Lane, my rival back then.

I didn't want to answer, but all eyes were on me.

"I do editing now," I said. "At Vivian's studio."

Rachel covered her mouth as she laughed. "Jonathan, do you remember? Back in school, we both chased after you. Bringing you breakfast every day, cheering you on at the basketball court.

"Then you chose her, and I was heartbroken for ages.

"And yet you two broke up in less than six months.

"I've always wondered, what exactly did you see in her?"

Every gaze shifted between Jonathan and me, waiting for a scene that had been seven years in the making.

Jonathan set his glass down and glanced at me lightly. "I don't remember."

The room went quiet for a second.

Rachel froze, then burst out laughing. "Come on, she pursued you back then. How can you not remember?"

He didn't respond. He lifted his glass, took a sip, and looked away, as if it had been nothing more than a trivial question.

Rachel laughed again and turned back to me, her eyes dropping to my coat. "Emily, how many years have you had that thing?

"I remember you liked that style even in school. You're still wearing it?"

A few others joined in the laughter.

I kept my head down, focused on peeling shrimp, and said nothing.

They were harder to peel than I expected.

A long time ago, I loved shrimp.

Back then, Jonathan would bring me peeled shrimp from the cafeteria every day. With those clean, slender hands of his, he would carefully peel each one and hold it up to my mouth.

And now he says he doesn't remember.

Seven years without seeing each other has left us feeling like strangers from different lifetimes.

Someone nearby muttered, "No wonder they broke up, she looks so plain."

Rachel waved it off. "Oh, don't say that. Emily's just simple, it suits her.

"Where are you living these days?

"We should get everyone together sometime. Don't skip it again."

"Brookside," I said.

"Brookside," she repeated, nodding as if she understood. Her voice stayed gentle. "It's affordable over there, that's good. Practical for everyday life."

I didn't respond.

Vivian Blair leaned in and whispered, "Ignore her. She married well and loves showing it off."

She paused, then lowered her voice even more. "Jonathan probably really has forgotten. It's been seven years, and men are like that."

I murmured a quiet "mm" and finally put the badly peeled shrimp into my mouth.

I couldn't taste a thing.

Back then, I was the one chasing after him without holding back.

And later, I was the one who disappeared without a trace.

I don't dare hope he remembers.

I'm even more afraid that he does.