Chapter 2

After a few rounds, Sylvia was already feeling a little tipsy.

The whiskey burned her throat, but it was a satisfying burn.

Chris Evans, the producer, slapped Sylvia on the shoulder, her breath heavy with alcohol. "Sylvia, I thought you'd settle down after getting a boyfriend.

"These past five years, I've invited you many times, and you only showed up once. So, did you finally change your mind? Edwin and you two weren't a good match."

Sylvia nodded eagerly, raising her glass to clink with Chris's. The clear sound of glass rang out. "Chris, you're absolutely right. From now on, just give me a call. I'll show up anytime."

"Alright, that's the spirit," The whole table cheered.

During the years she was with Edwin, Sylvia's whole life revolved around him.

She only picked scripts where he could be her co-star. Even if it was a role she'd always dreamed of, if he couldn't be in the same project, she'd turn it down.

She'd skip parties whenever she could, because he thought those gatherings were too chaotic and didn't trust them. She'd go home to him without a second thought.

She even stopped going skiing, her favorite hobby, just because he frowned and said it was too dangerous. Looking back now, she realized how foolish she'd been.

Edwin never cared about her safety. He was probably just worried that if she died, there'd be no one left to take care of him.

Her phone buzzed. Sylvia glanced at the screen. Edwin had just refunded the money she sent him.

He'd also left a message: [Sylvia, can we talk?]

Sylvia ignored him, locked her phone, and went right back to her drink.

It was already two in the morning when she finally got home.

She turned on the lights and saw Edwin sitting on the couch, not watching TV, not on his phone, just sitting there like he was carved out of marble.

Sylvia blinked, thinking maybe the booze was making her see things.

Edwin caught a whiff of alcohol and immediately made a disgusted face, his brows furrowed tightly. "Sylvia, is this how a woman should behave? I don't like you going out drinking.

"If you're upset or jealous, just say it. Getting wasted like this only makes me look down on you even more. You know I don't want you out there partying."

Sylvia's head was spinning so badly she didn't even bother taking off her shoes. She just leaned against the entryway cabinet and sat down.

Edwin stood up and walked over, towering over her. "Didn't you promise me you wouldn't go out partying? So what are you doing now? Why do you always have to push my limits?

"Josie is my friend. She's like a little sister to me," he said. "Are you really doing this just to piss me off? You think acting like this is going to make me feel bad for you? I will only think you are childish."

Sylvia, feeling groggy and propping her head up, slurred, "You're reading too much into this. I'm not drinking because of you, and I'm not jealous. I'm just celebrating. Chris said she's hooking me up with a great project in Havenport."

Edwin finally lost it, his patience gone. "Enough, Sylvia. I've already tried to smooth things over. What else do you want from me? So I bailed on you once, it's not the end of the world. I said sorry, didn't I?

"Why are you still making such a fuss? I'm not some perfect guy. I can't always put your feelings first. I couldn't turn Josie down. This circle is small. Today you help me, tomorrow I help you. Can't you see that?"

Edwin's voice was so loud and blaring that Sylvia's headache got even worse, like her skull was about to crack open.

She rubbed her temples, her voice raspy. "Calm down. If there's anything, let's talk about it tomorrow. I'm exhausted and want to sleep."

Edwin let out a long sigh, struggling to keep his temper in check. He reached out to help her up. "Come on, let me get you to bed. Seriously, Sylvia, you shouldn't drink so much.

"It's not good for you. And those bars are full of all kinds of people. Without me there, you really thought it was safe to get this wasted?"

Sylvia, clinging to the last shred of sobriety, pulled away from his hand.

Edwin's hand hung awkwardly in the air, his fingertips trembling.

Sylvia didn't even look at him. She pushed herself up on unsteady legs, feeling her way toward the guest room.

She locked the door, threw herself onto the bed, and no matter how hard Edwin knocked or shouted her name from outside, she didn't respond.

Sylvia fell into a deep sleep. Strangely enough, she slept particularly soundly this time. She didn't dream about Edwin, nor did she dream about Josie. And she certainly didn't dream about the blinding roses and fireworks lighting up the sky.