Chapter 1
That night, while Edwin Carter was at his cast party, Sylvia Bennett had prepared a full dinner at home in Hinston, waiting for him to return.
When Edwin finally walked through the door, he still had traces of makeup on his face.
He didn't even glance at the carefully set table, and he didn't look at Sylvia for a single second. Instead, he went straight to the bedroom closet and started packing a suitcase.
"I can't go with you to Wonderland tomorrow," he said. "There's an urgent reshoot with Josie's crew, and I need to fly out to the Golden Hills film set."
Sylvia stayed quiet, taking a bite of her cold lobster mac and cheese.
The once-creamy sauce had congealed, turning thick and greasy.
The pasta clumped together, sticking in her throat and making it hard to swallow.
She forced it down anyway, feeling a sharp ache as it scraped against her throat.
At two in the morning, Josie Stone, Edwin's first love and a newly acclaimed, brilliant director, posted on Twitter.
In the photo, Josie leaned against him holding a bouquet of roses, while Edwin beamed at the camera.
In the background, heart-shaped fireworks lit up the night sky above the film set.
The caption read: [Thank you, Edwin, for the roses and fireworks. I love them.]
The comments section blew up immediately.
[Are they officially dating now?]
[After all this time, it's still them. I'm sobbing.]
[This is so sweet.]
Unlike before, Sylvia didn't make any frantic calls to confront him.
Her trembling fingers hovered over the screen for a long time before she finally gave the post a casual like.
The little like icon looked like a drop of blood on the screen.
Her phone buzzed shortly after. It was Edwin, sounding a little panicked.
"Sylvia, don't get the wrong idea," he said. "I'll be back in Hinston as soon as I finish shooting. Didn't you always want to visit Wonderland? We can go later."
Sylvia silently shook her head. A deep sense of despair washed over her.
There wasn't going to be a "later" with Edwin.
*****
Edwin didn't make it back to Hinston until three days later.
Back then, no matter how late he arrived, even if it was three or four in the morning, Sylvia would always be waiting for him at the VIP terminal.
She'd hold up a handmade sign, decorated with a silly little cartoon version of Edwin.
He'd ruffle her hair right in front of his assistant and say, "You must've waited for a long time." Then he'd naturally take her hand, listening to her playful whining.
But this time, Sylvia didn't go to meet him.
Instead, she sat in a 24-hour convenience store near her apartment, picking at a microwaved burrito that stayed limp and flavorless.
Sylvia ate mechanically, bite after bite, her gaze fixed on the deserted street outside the glass window in the dead of night.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Edwin: [Hey, where are you? I just got in.]
Sylvia was chewing on a soggy fish ball when she texted back, barely thinking: [I'm home. Just go back on your own.]
Sylvia had barely stepped inside when she heard the digital lock beep as it unlocked.
Edwin came in, dragging a huge suitcase. He still had his sunglasses and face mask on, looking exhausted from travel. Yet somehow, he was so handsome it made her head spin.
"I haven't had dinner yet. Cook me some food," he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Then he casually shoved his suitcase aside and tossed his coat onto the couch.
Before, whenever Edwin came home, Sylvia would have a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup ready for him, topped with a perfectly fried egg, a sprinkle of chives, and his favorite bacon bits.
But now, Sylvia just stayed on the couch, flipping through her script, not bothering to get up.
"I'm busy. Just order some takeout." Sylvia finally looked up at him. "Josie actually let you come home?"
Edwin took off his sunglasses, revealing the very eyes Sylvia had kissed so many times before.
But now, there was a fire smoldering in them. "Sylvia, I know you're upset about me standing you up, but can you please stop acting out? I'm really exhausted. I've been shooting pick-up shots for thirty-six hours straight.
Sylvia closed her script and gave a resigned smile. "I'm not mad."
Edwin let out a derisive laugh, like he'd heard the most ridiculous thing. "If you weren't mad, would you have ignored my calls? Would you have skipped the airport? Would you be throwing all this attitude at me?
"Josie's running her first solo project, and the lead actor just ditched out of nowhere. If the whole crew had to stop for even a day, that's hundreds of thousands down the drain.
"Whether I'm her friend or just a fellow pro, there was no way I could just stand by. I had to step in."
He tried to calm Sylvia, his voice gentle. "Sylvia, you know how much relationships matter in this industry. You're not some clueless rookie anymore."
Sylvia nodded, even curling her lips into a faint smile. "Yeah, it's only natural. So I'm not angry. Stepping in for someone is urgent, like putting out a fire, right?"
Edwin locked eyes with Sylvia, as if he could read her mind, searching for any trace of jealousy, bitterness, or even a flicker of resentment, anything familiar. But he failed.
After a while, he rubbed his temples, looking exhausted, and his voice softened. "Sylvia, this is really draining. I know I screwed up. Next time, I'll make sure to talk it over with you first.
"Can you please not be mad at me? I'm still jet-lagged, and honestly, I'm just so, so tired."
Sylvia met his gaze, her eyes steady. "I'm really not mad, and you don't have to explain. Is it really so wrong if I just don't feel like making food?
"Or is the only way you'll ever be satisfied if I drop everything and do whatever you want?"
Edwin paused for a moment, then walked over to his suitcase, pulled out a crumpled box, and passed it to Sylvia. "Got you something. It's the specialty from Courthaven. You said you wanted to try it."
The box looked like a typical local treat, its packaging wrinkled and corners battered, as if he'd just stuffed it carelessly into the bottom of his suitcase.
It was worlds apart from the sleek, limited-edition perfume he flaunted on Josie's Twitter.
Sylvia didn't unwrap it with the same joy as before. She just took it politely and placed it on the coffee table. "Thanks." After that, she said nothing more.
A flicker of annoyance crossed Edwin's face. "Aren't you going to open it and try some?" he asked.
Sylvia said, her tone flat, "I'm on a diet lately, so I don't want any candy."
Her words hit him hard, and his expression turned even more sour.
Suddenly remembering something, he stretched out his hand toward Sylvia and asked, "What about mine?"
Sylvia stared at him blankly.
"My cast party gift," he said, like he was just expecting it as usual. "You always get me one, don't you?"
Sylvia finally remembered, giving him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I totally spaced. Things have been crazy lately. I'll give you the money. Get yourself whatever you want."
Then she opened Venmo, typed in 3,000, and hit send.
Edwin froze. He stared at the money transfer pop-up on his phone.
All these years, whether Edwin remembered or not, no matter where in the world he was shooting, Sylvia always made sure to get him a wrap gift.
The first time, she gave him a scarf she knitted herself. Stitches all crooked and messy. He wore it once, said it was itchy, and never touched it again. But Sylvia didn't mind.
The second time, she saved up three months of her salary to buy him a watch he'd casually mentioned. He said it was too flashy and left it in a drawer to gather dust. But Sylvia didn't get upset.
The third time, she flew out to the desert where he was filming, waited eight hours in the sandstorm, just to give him a box of throat lozenges.
Edwin would give her little gifts as well, and each one always made Sylvia genuinely happy.
Even if it was just a wildflower he plucked from the set, she'd carefully press it and turn it into a dried flower specimen to keep and cherish.
Suddenly, things got awkward fast.
Sylvia gathered up her script, slipped on her coat, and got ready to head out.
Edwin was stunned for a moment, then hurriedly called after her, a touch of nervousness he couldn't hide in his voice. "Sylvia, where are you going?"
"Chris is having a birthday. I'm just going to have some fun," Sylvia replied.
With that, she closed the door behind her, shutting out his calls and the unfinished question, "Aren't you going to take me with you?"
After Sylvia started dating Edwin, she cut off all her male friends because Edwin once said, "I don't like you hanging out with other guys."
For five years, she hadn't spent more than three minutes alone with any guy.
Her friends all joked that she lost herself in the relationship and stopped calling her to join their gatherings. In those years, she only got those group holiday messages from them.
But now, she was finally free.