Chapter 1

My fiancé, Sean Lane, had this rule. He would never spend the night at my place.

Even on the nights when we were most intimate, he would leave promptly at eleven.

He said he had a sleepwalking disorder and was afraid he might hurt me in his sleep.

I believed him for five years.

Then one night, I started bleeding heavily in the middle of the night. I was curled up on the floor in pain when I called him, crying and begging him to come back.

His voice was calm and flat. "Take a painkiller. You can't rely on other people for everything. I'm going to bed."

In the end, the woman next door drove me to the ER.

The doctor said that if I had arrived half an hour later, I could have been in serious danger.

Sean came to the hospital the next day and merely told me to be more careful next time. He didn't ask what kind of surgery I had undergone.

This week, the sleep report from his smartwatch suddenly popped up on the iPad he had left at my place.

It read: [Average deep sleep this week: 7.6 hours. Sleep quality score: 92. Location: Building 3, Willow Residence.]

The location was the same every night, and the report covered five full years.

I knew that place. His junior from school lived there, the girl he claimed he barely knew, and the girl his mother had always liked best.

He had never been sleepwalking. He had simply been going to someone else every night.

And on the night I nearly died, his sleep score was 94.

I turned off the iPad, canceled our wedding reservations, put his keys and slippers into a bag, and left them outside the door.

Then I turned off the light I had left on for him every night.

He never stayed for me, and I wasn't going to wait for him anymore.

*****

The next morning, I told my editor I decided to quit.

She called me right after getting the email. "Harper, are you out of your mind? We agreed you'd be promoted to lead writer next month."

"I'm leaving the city," I said calmly. "It's personal. I've already made up my mind."

She was silent for a long time. "Is it because of that guy?"

I didn't answer.

She sighed. "Fine, I respect your choice. But don't do anything rash. Make sure you've thought it through before you leave."

"I have," I said.

After hanging up, I opened my laptop and replied to a job offer I'd gotten half a year ago.

It was for an editor-in-chief position at a digital media agency in Dusvor. They'd been trying to recruit me for ages, but I always turned them down because my fiancé was here.

Now, there was no reason to say no.

I wrote: [Hi, if the position is still open, I can start next week.]

I hit send.

Less than ten minutes later, they replied, [Ms. Grant, this is amazing. We can't wait to have you. Come anytime!]

I started packing.

There was nothing left for me here.

My parents retired and moved to Hasville three years ago, and my best friend left for Beloris last year. Other than Sean, I had nothing keeping me here.

And now, even Sean was gone.

No. I never had him to begin with.

At ten in the morning, Sean called.

I stared at his name on the screen. After the phone rang three times, I answered.

"What's with the stuff at the door?" Sean sounded annoyed. "Harper, what are you pulling again this time?"

Again? That word struck me as ironic.

In his eyes, every emotion I had ever expressed was just me making a scene.

Three years ago, when I asked him to spend my birthday with me, he said I was making a scene.

Two years ago, when I wondered why he never let me meet his friends, he accused me of making a fuss.

Last year, when I suggested that we move in together, he said I was doing it again.

I was always the one causing trouble, while he was always the one putting up with my unreasonable behavior.

"We're done," I told him.

There was a short silence on the other end. "What?"

"I said we're done. The wedding's off."

For the first time, Sean's voice wavered. "What's wrong with you? Are you still upset about getting sick last time? I already said I'd be more careful—"

"Sean," I cut him off, my voice steady. "Building 3, Willow Residence. Sarah's place. You've been sleeping there every night. Guess your smartwatch is smarter than you thought."

The silence was suffocating.

I could picture his face. That composed expression must have finally cracked.

After a while, he finally spoke, his voice low. "Did you go through my things?"

I laughed. I genuinely found it funny.

He had been caught cheating, and his first reaction wasn't to explain or apologize. He wanted to know why I had looked through his things.

"You left the iPad at my place. The notification popped up, and I glanced at it," I said flatly. "Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, we're done."

"Harper." Sean's voice shot up. "Can you calm down? Can't we talk?"

"Talk?" I repeated after him. "Sean, on the night I nearly died, you slept at Sarah's place for 8.2 hours. Your sleep score was 94. How exactly do you expect me to talk about that?"

He went silent.

I was done listening. "Your things are outside. Your keys are in the bag. The wedding has already been canceled. I'll notify my friends and family about the cancellation myself. You can handle your side.

"Don't contact me again."

I hung up and blocked his number.

*****

That afternoon, I went to the bridal shop. The wedding dress I had ordered was still hanging there. It was an ivory satin gown, the style I had spent weeks choosing.

Sean never came with me when I picked out the dress. He claimed it was supposedly bad luck for a man to see the wedding dress before the big day.

Later, I overheard one of his coworkers mention that he'd taken Sarah to a photography exhibition that day.

"I'm here to cancel the order and get my deposit back," I told the salesperson.

The salesperson looked sorry. "This dress really looks amazing on you. Are you sure you don't want to—"

"No, I don't want it," I said.

"Well, we can't give you a full refund. Only 60% of the deposit is refundable."

"That's fine."