Chapter 1

My boyfriend said to me: "Emily White, I'm done playing around.

"Find yourself a decent man and marry him. I'm begging you."

*****

It was Christmas Eve, and Ryan Lancaster's birthday party was in full swing.

Ryan and I had been in a secret relationship for a full seven years, and we'd agreed to finally go public tonight.

The room glittered with polished smiles and expensive perfume. He moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations after congratulations, never once looking my way.

Not until the cake-cutting. Everyone egged him on to make a wish, and after blowing out the candles, he swept his gaze over the crowd until it landed on me.

Then he walked over with a faint smell of alcohol on him and bent close to my ear. His breath was warm against my skin, but his words were ice-cold. "Emily, I'm done playing around.

"Find yourself a decent man and marry him. I'm begging you."

The noise around us seemed to fade out in an instant. I stared at his profile from inches away. Those eyes that always carried a hint of a smile now held nothing but careless indifference.

There was no sharp pain in my chest like I'd expected, only a dead, numb silence.

I met his gaze, gave the slightest nod, and said, "Okay."

My voice was so calm it even surprised me.

After all, in my previous life, I had nearly died trying to marry him. I'd cried my heart out and thrown away every last bit of dignity.

What I got in return was ten years of emotional neglect in marriage, and a phone call from the delivery room that no one ever answered.

Now that I'd been given another shot at life, what was this little humiliation worth?

Ryan was clearly stunned.

He probably hadn't expected this reaction from me. For the past seven years, every time he said something harsh, I'd tear up and make a fuss until he coaxed me into smiling again.

The teasing smile at the corner of his lips faded, and he frowned slightly. "Emily, did you even hear what I said?"

I even managed to curl my lips into something polite. "I heard you loud and clear. Mr. Lancaster wants me to find my next guy. I'll keep that in mind."

The words "Mr. Lancaster" hit him like two tiny needles.

His expression darkened. He was about to say something else when a crisp shattering sound came from the next table.

A wineglass had hit the floor, red wine soaking into the expensive Persian rug.

A slim figure in white covered her mouth and stumbled out of the banquet hall.

It was Claire Summers.

Ryan's attention was yanked away instantly. Without a second's hesitation, he left me behind and hurried after her.

My brother, Michael White, leaned over and slung an arm over my shoulder, his tone as teasing as ever. "Well, damn, isn't that Ryan's ex, the one that got away? When did she get back?

"Showing up right around Christmas, what's this supposed to be?"

I didn't answer. I picked up my chopsticks and took a piece of steamed fish from the dish in front of me.

The fish was tender and melted in my mouth. Exactly the kind of flavor I liked.

At gatherings like this, I used to be too restless to eat. My eyes would stay glued to Ryan. If he stepped out to take a call, I'd worry work was giving him trouble.

If he talked to someone for too long, I'd start guessing whether it was a man or a woman. Every meal, I'd turn his favorite dishes toward him or even put food straight into his plate.

Michael used to get jealous over it all the time. "Emily, you're not even this attentive to your own brother. Be honest. Are you into that guy or what?"

More than once, the truth had reached my lips, only for me to swallow it back down.

Because Ryan would always cut in at the right moment, or ruffle my hair and say in that affectionate big-brother tone, "What are you thinking? Emily's the little sister I watched grow up."

And that was enough for me to understand.

He didn't want to go public.

Seven years. More than two thousand days and nights. His social media was spotless, not a trace of me anywhere. The only photos we had together were group pictures.

He cleaned out our chat history regularly, and every gift we exchanged stayed hidden from the world. I used to naively think he was protecting me, that I was too young to handle people's gossip and judgment.

Looking back now, I was only fooling myself.

He didn't want Claire to know that while she was gone, he'd had someone like me by his side as a substitute.

Seeing me quietly eat instead of spiraling, Michael looked almost uncomfortable. He nudged me with his elbow. "You're not going after them? Claire's crying up a storm. Your Ryan's probably about to fold."

I took a sip of juice and answered flatly, "Whether he can handle it or not has nothing to do with me.

"I'm his 'little sister' now, so I'd better not interrupt their reunion."

Michael stared at my face for several seconds, clearly trying to find some sign that I didn't mean it. In the end, he found nothing.

Ryan came back soon enough, with Claire beside him. Her eyes were red, and she looked heartbreakingly fragile.

He had a hand around her wrist, his fingers pressing lightly as if trying to reassure her.

Never one to miss a chance for drama, Michael whistled. "Mr. Lancaster, what is this? Getting back with your ex? Wedding bells already?"

Ryan suddenly looked at me, and for a split second, I caught a rare flash of panic in his eyes.

"Don't talk nonsense," he let go of Claire's wrist, his tone turning casual again. "Claire got back and she's not in a great place emotionally. I'm taking her home."

Claire leaned against his side, sniffing softly, which only made her look more pitiful.

I set down my chopsticks, stood up, and pulled Michael aside myself. "Come on, Mike. They haven't seen each other in forever. I'm sure they have a lot to talk about. Let's not be the third wheel here."

Then I looked at Ryan and smiled flawlessly. "Take care on the way, Ryan. And make sure Claire gets home safe."

Hearing me call him Ryan like that made his expression shift again.

He didn't respond. He only gave me a long, deep look before putting an arm around Claire's shoulders and leaving.

The second they were gone, the chatter around the table exploded.