Chapter 1

For six years, I'd been tangled up with Ryan Lewis. His replies were always the same, just three words: [Mm,] [Oh,] or [Uh-huh.]

His friends laughed at me in front of everyone. "Still throwing yourself at him after six years? Aren't you sick of it?"

Ryan just said coldly, "You're always so talkative."

Everyone thought I was the one fawning over him for six years.

I just smiled and said, "Yeah, I'm done chasing him."

But they had no clue, those three words weren't just him brushing me off. For six years, I'd been keeping track of his fate.

From tomorrow on, I would stop.

*****

The private room was buzzing with noise. Someone slid a chilled drink in front of Ryan, but he didn't touch it.

I sat diagonally across from him, my phone screen still lit up with the message I'd just sent: [Have you eaten yet?]

Three seconds later, he replied: [Mm.]

Eric Turner leaned over to peek at my screen and burst out laughing. "Vivian, how many messages have you sent today? Ryan tosses you an 'Mm' and you're happy all night, huh?"

The whole table cracked up.

A woman in a silk dress covered her mouth, but her eyes were glued to my face.

I set my phone face down on the table and smiled. "I didn't count."

"You really dare say you didn't count?" Eric teased, his words a bit slurred from the drinks.

"Six years, seriously. Six years! You've been chasing him since college. We're all tired for you. If you're really worn out, just stop already, it's not like there aren't other guys out there."

"You talk too much," Ryan finally spoke, his voice low, like ice cracking.

He didn't even look at me, just stared at Eric, his gaze so cold it could freeze someone solid.

Eric shrank back. "Alright, alright, I'll shut up. Sorry, Mrs. Lewis."

As soon as he said "Mrs. Lewis," the woman's face went pale.

I knew exactly what that was; they were all just here for the show.

They were waiting for me to blush, for me to be moved to tears, for me to treat every cold, indifferent word Ryan tossed my way like candy, savoring it, never wanting to let it go, just like I had for the past six years.

I picked up the glass of warm water in front of me and took a sip.

"No need to apologize," I said.

"Eric's right," I added.

The table went quiet for a split second.

I set my glass down, making sure every word was clear. "I'm tired. I'm done chasing him."

Ryan looked up at me.

It was the first time all evening he'd really met my gaze.

His eyes were striking, long lashes, a touch of red at the corners from the couple of drinks he'd had.

After six years, I could read every little shift in his expression. Right now, I knew exactly what he was thinking, he figured I was just being petty again, trying to bait him into saying something nice with my "I'm done chasing you."

Honestly, I really had pulled that stunt before.

I'd throw out some tough words, but the second he gave me that look, I'd fold, hand over my phone like a puppy, asking what time he was free tomorrow, where he was headed, and if he wanted me tagging along.

I stood up and gently pushed my chair back under the table.

"Enjoy your meal, everyone," I said.

I flashed a practiced, perfect smile. "I'm heading out."

I picked up my bag and walked out.

As I walked past Ryan, he suddenly reached out and grabbed my wrist.

His hand was icy cold.

His hands had always been like that, ever since that winter six years ago, when I first held his hand, it was just as cold, so cold it felt lifeless.

"Come back and sit down," Ryan said.

I glanced down at his hand wrapped around my wrist, pausing for two seconds.

"Ryan Lewis," I said.

First time I ever called him "Ryan Lewis" in front of everyone. "I'm serious."

I pulled my hand free and walked out without looking back.

It was raining outside the club.

I stood under the awning when my phone buzzed in my bag.

I fished it out to check.

It was him: [Where you going.]

Three words.

I stared at those three words for a long time.

Normally, around this time, almost eleven, I'd be sending him that message.

For six years, rain or shine, I'd send one, and he'd reply with one.

Over a thousand nights.

I stuffed my phone back into my bag and didn't reply.

I flagged down a cab in the rain.

Before I got in, my phone buzzed twice, but I didn't even look.

Just then, my phone buzzed again, it was my mom calling.

Her voice was as urgent as ever. "Vivian, your aunt set you up on a blind date for Saturday. The guy's a good catch, so don't be stubborn.

"And about the Lewis Family, you've been chasing him for six years. If it's not happening, it's just not happening. Don't you care about your reputation? We can't afford to be embarrassed like this."

I leaned back in my seat, watching the city lights melt into one outside the window.

"Mom," I said.

"I'll go."

My mom was clearly stunned. "You...you agreed?"

"I agreed," I said.

After hanging up, I opened my chat with Ryan.

His message was still at the top: "Where you going?"

I typed out three words, then deleted them.

Kept typing, kept deleting.

Finally, I didn't send anything. I switched my phone to silent mode.

Starting tomorrow, I'm done keeping track.