Chapter 2

Stanley was a lecturer at Amiston University, teaching a course with a name I still can't pronounce. We were together for two years, lived together for six months, and broke up three weeks ago.

Honestly, it's pretty humiliating. After living together for half a year, we hadn't shared the same bed, not once.

By the time I graduated from Media College, Stanley had already made himself at home at Amiston University. When I asked if I could move in with him, he paused for three seconds and said, "Okay."

That was it, no surprise, no passion, as if he were simply agreeing to run some errand tomorrow.

But I didn't care. I was so thrilled to finally be living with my boyfriend, chattering away as I planned every tiny detail of our new life together.

On moving day, I brought three big boxes. One was packed with clothes, another with books and random little things, and the last one was crammed full of the sexy sleepwear I'd carefully picked out from my favorite online store.

I had a dark black silk slip dress, a white lace bodysuit with delicate cutouts, and a misty blue satin robe.

I tried on each piece in front of the mirror, spinning around to check myself from every angle, making sure I looked like I wasn't trying too hard, but still totally irresistible.

Stanley was my first love, and I made no secret of how much I wanted him, or how much I longed for a real, grown-up relationship.

Then came our first night living together. I showered, dried my hair, spritzed on the perfume my roommate swore by, and put on a white lingerie set that was both innocent and tempting.

After three deep breaths in front of the mirror, I finally pushed open the bedroom door.

Stanley was sitting up in bed, reading. He looked up at me for a second, one quick glance, then went straight back to his book.

I stood there, feeling awkward and exposed. The thin fabric clung to my skin, and as the AC breeze hit me, I shivered.

"Aren't you cold?" Stanley asked, without looking up, as he reached over and bumped the AC up two degrees.

"No," I said through gritted teeth.

As I was about to slip under his covers, he held me back at the edge of the bed. He leaned closer, and I closed my eyes, waiting for something.

After what felt like forever, I heard his deep, steady voice above me. "Not a fan of the room I got ready for you? You want to sleep here instead?"

That was when it finally hit me. He never intended for us to actually sleep together.

That night, I ran off in embarrassment, swearing to myself that even if he ever begged me to share his bed, I'd never say yes. And guess what? He never did.

Later, I realized that if his heart already belonged to someone else, there was no way he'd ever want me.

Stanley's first love had come back, and he was already planning to break up with me. I overheard him talking to his childhood friend. "If I bring it up now, she definitely won't agree. My parents keep telling me to be careful, but..."

I didn't stick around to hear the rest. I figured his parents probably had their ideal girl picked out, not some reckless, small-town girl like me.

The Crane family might not be filthy rich in Amiston, but they were definitely a family of scholars. His dad, Victor Crane, was a famous physicist, and his mom, Grace Crane, was a national-level dancer.

"What are you talking about?" Stanley suddenly raised his voice, and I couldn't help but overhear the rest. "What does Susan have to do with this? I don't want her dragged into it."

Susan Lee was Stanley's childhood sweetheart. She'd gone abroad after graduation and came back a month ago. After hearing that conversation, I suddenly felt so tired.

For the first time, I actually thought about giving up on this relationship. The last straw for me was what went down at Susan's birthday party.

The Crane and Lee families had been close for generations, so Susan's first birthday back was a big deal. Everyone from their social circle showed up, including Stanley. I'd been to a few of his friends' parties before, but I never really fit in.

So I always ended up sitting quietly by myself. Stanley picked up on how out of place I felt and started cutting back on those gatherings. If he absolutely had to go, he'd go by himself.

It was the same story at Susan's birthday party. Only this time, he brought Sunny with him. He said Sunny's mom would be there, so he thought it'd be good for them to see each other.

It was two in the morning, and he still hadn't come home or texted me. I was getting worried, so I called him. But Susan picked up. She was at the Lee residence, in her room.

"Looking for Stanley? He's in the shower. I'll have him call you back when he's done," Susan said.

My mind went totally blank. I couldn't get a single word out, so I awkwardly hung up. I spent the whole night sitting there, waiting for his call, but it never came.

I was too chicken to break up with him face-to-face, so I wrote a messy breakup note, left it at his place, and packed up and left. I'd arrived with three big boxes, but when I left, I only had time to grab one suitcase.

The next day, he called, his voice low and tense, trying hard to keep it together. "Are you actually serious about this breakup?"

I squared my shoulders and tried to sound firm. "Yeah, I mean it."

"When are you coming to get your stuff?" he asked.

"Throw it all away. I don't want any of it."

"Fine."

"About Sunny..."

"Don't think about it," he snapped, hanging up on me. I huddled on my couch, clutching my phone, bawling my eyes out.

Half of it was because of how cold he was being. The other half? All the stuff I hadn't managed to take yet.

The photo strip on the fridge. Those weird little sausage plushies on the couch. My romance novels on the nightstand. The mint I'd planted on the balcony. And Sunny.

Seeing me sitting there, Stanley finally spoke up. "It's getting late. If you don't hurry up and write, are you planning to crash here for the night?"

He was the one who wronged me first, but now he had the nerve to look down on me and mock me like he was above it all. That really pissed me off.

I grabbed Sunny and headed straight for the door, ready to storm out of his place.

But he caught me, scooped me up around the waist, and tossed me onto the couch. He knew exactly how much force to use, enough to leave me stunned, but not enough to actually hurt me.

He hovered over me, anger flashing in his eyes, his tone fiercer than I'd ever heard. "You were the one who wanted to break up. You said you didn't want your stuff. So why are you back here asking for it now?"

I couldn't hold back my sadness anymore. Huge tears welled up and silently rolled down my cheeks, my face full of hurt. Still, I bit my lip hard, trying to keep it together.

Stanley was stunned by my tears and fell silent. He let go of me, rolled over to the side, and lay there, struggling to pull himself together. It was a long time before he finally spoke.

"You're the one who left. There's no way I'm giving you Sunny, unless..."

The moment I realized he'd never give me Sunny, my world collapsed. I grabbed a blue-haired sausage plushie, hugged it tight, and ran out without looking back.

The door stayed open behind me. I heard him calling me, but I was too afraid of hearing anything else that would break me even more. So I stepped into the elevator without looking back.

Downstairs, I found a hidden spot among the thick greenery and curled up on the steps, burying my face in the squishy belly of the sausage plushie. I cried hard but tried to keep it together.

I had no idea how long I'd been sitting there, crying, until I felt a warm, rough sensation against the back of my hand, again and again.

I blinked up through my tears and saw a little yellow-and-white Sunny, tongue out, carefully licking my palm like it was the most important thing in the world. The leash was held in a hand with Stanley's hand.

I followed the hand up and saw Stanley standing under the streetlight, wearing a black shirt with the collar wide open, his collarbones catching the glow. I admitted that I was a little fascinated.

He handed me Sunny's leash, and I took it, still a bit stunned. Then he spoke, his voice rough with emotion. "You can take Sunny home, but bring her back in two days.

He paused, like he was wrestling with himself, "If you miss him, give me a call. And don't try to steal him again, got it?"

I got to my feet, tears still clinging to my lashes, but I was grinning now. I hugged Sunny tight and thanked Stanley again and again.

His face was still stormy, but for once, he didn't throw any harsh words at me.

I was about to leave with Sunny when he spoke up again. "Let me walk you home. It's so late."

I wanted to refuse, but then he said, "If you won't think about your own safety, at least think about Sunny's." So I nodded, not wanting to push back.

Sunny, wearing her little backpack, hopped into the back seat with practiced ease. I was about to climb in after her, but Stanley closed the door and said, "Sit up front. Don't crowd her."

Feeling awkward, I moved to the passenger seat. The drive was quiet. When we arrived downstairs, he saw Sunny and me to the building, then left without saying a word.