Chapter 2

During the entire six-hour train ride, I had to flag down staff multiple times to stop the kid from kicking my seat.

All Alex did was glance over with a frown, then turn right back to peeling an orange for Emily, carefully picking off every last bit of white pith. I'd once thought that gentle, patient side of him was only ever mine.

We arrived at our Brightion hotel that afternoon. Emily was still carsick, so Alex carried her out of the car in his arms. Meanwhile, I was left struggling alone with three heavy suitcases, my wrists aching and numb from the strain.

Alex asked the front desk, "Do you have a quieter room?"

My eyes stung sharply.

He seemed to notice it and offered a half-hearted excuse. "Julia, Emily's not feeling well, so we're not going out today. Hope you can understand."

Just because she wasn't feeling well, all the travel plans I'd spent three sleepless nights working on were suddenly worthless.

Emily tugged at his sleeve, pretending to protest, but he patted her hand gently to soothe her. "Come on, don't be silly. I brought you here, so of course I'll take care of you."

Then he turned to me and said, "Julia, let's chill at the hotel. All those Instagram tourist spots look the same anyway."

I sat on the hotel sofa, watching him hand Emily a glass of water and her backpack. Their interactions were so natural and effortless that they looked exactly like a real couple.

In that moment, I was painfully aware of how redundant I was. I was a total joke. All the eager anticipation I'd felt for this trip fizzled out completely.

The only thing I had left to look forward to was the concert tomorrow. Alex had promised he'd propose to me there, making up for everything.

I spent the whole day lying in my hotel room, listening to Alex fuss over Emily in the room next door. I didn't step outside once.

Then, an hour before the concert, Emily made a miraculous recovery. She grabbed Alex's arm and dragged him out the door, insisting they leave right away.

I hurriedly did my makeup, grabbed my 'secret weapon,' and followed out.

*****

The late August heat hit me, mixed with the screams of fans all around.

Alex and Emily scanned their tickets and walked right in with no issues. But when it was my turn, the ticket checker swiped my ticket over and over, three times in a row.

A bad feeling crept over me.

The next second, the ticket checker frowned and said seriously, "ID verification failed."

My heart sank, and my voice trembled. "That's impossible."

I'd been stuck in a full-day meeting when tickets went on sale, so I'd begged Alex to handle it for me, reminding him over and over. He'd promised nothing could go wrong.

But when I looked at Alex, he glanced at Emily, looking completely stunned.

Emily lowered her head, acting all innocent and startled. "Julia, I don't know what's going on."

So that was it. I couldn't help but laugh in anger and disbelief.

The ticket checker sighed, sounding friendly. "We've told you guys, never buy tickets from scalpers. All concert tickets are non-transferable. The name on the ticket has to match your ID exactly. Go try to get a refund from whoever sold you this. Next!"

The fans lined up behind me grew annoyed. "Hurry up. If you can't get in, move out of the way."

Shoved around by the crowd, I slammed hard into the metal railing, a sharp pain shooting up my wrist.

Alex took a step toward me, but right then, Emily grabbed her head and went limp in his arms. "Alex, it's so noisy. My head is spinning."

Alex looked down at Emily, who looked moments away from fainting, then glanced at the restless crowd and back at me.

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Julia, go find somewhere to sit and wait a minute. I'll get Emmy inside and settled, then I'll come right back for you. I'll be right back."

There it was again. That same empty "I'll be right back." It was the exact excuse he'd hidden behind over and over throughout our six years of long-distance dating.

When Alex supported Emily as they walked through the entrance, she turned and I spotted the faint, triumphant smirk tugging at her lips.

The wind whipped up my veil, brushing against my stinging eyes. Once again, Alex lied to me.