Chapter 2

When I walked out of the bridal shop, the sunlight was blinding.

I stood by the street, and out of nowhere, memories of how things were when Sean and I first got together five years ago came rushing back.

Back then, he was gentle, caring, and seemed like the perfect boyfriend. He'd bring me an umbrella when it rained, remember I liked black coffee, and wait for me downstairs when I worked late.

When did things start to change?

After thinking about it, I figured it had started during our second year together, after Sarah returned from abroad.

That was when he started with that "rule". He'd always leave before eleven, no matter what.

I asked him why.

He told me he had been a sleepwalker since childhood. Sometimes he would get up and wander around without knowing what he was doing, and he was afraid he might disturb or hurt me in his sleep.

I wondered why he never had those symptoms during our first year together.

It turned out that it was all an excuse. He claimed it only started after he got comfortable around me, as if letting his guard down triggered it.

I was stupid enough to worry about him. I never pressed him for answers. I spent hours reading about sleepwalking, hoping I could find some way to help him.

He always told me there was no need. He said he was used to it.

Of course, he was. Why wouldn't he be?

He had gotten used to going back to Sarah every night and sleeping beside her, while I sat alone in my bedroom after eleven, convincing myself that he didn't want things to be this way either.

How pathetic was I?

*****

That evening, Sean showed up outside my apartment.

I watched his car from my window, but I stayed put.

An unknown number popped up on my phone. He was calling from a different number.

I didn't pick up.

It rang over ten times before finally stopping. Then I got a text. [Harper, I'm coming up. We need to talk. You can't decide this on your own.]

I replied briefly: [I can.]

Then I turned off my phone.

Twenty minutes later, I heard a knock at the door. "Harper, open up."

I sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine, not moving.

He said, "I know you're in there. Your light is on."

Yeah, the light. I used to leave that light on for him.

Now, it was on because I was reading.

"Harper." Sean raised his voice. "You're being childish. Can't we talk this out face to face?"

Childish. Same old word.

Just like "making a scene", it was another label he had always used for me.

I got up and walked to the door, called out through it. "Sean, if you don't leave, I'm calling the police."

It went quiet outside. After a long time, I heard his footsteps fade away.

I watched his silhouette disappear through the peephole.

His suit was perfectly pressed, and his stride was steady. There was no sign of panic.

He probably figured I was throwing a fit and that I'd get over it in a couple of days, like I did every other time.

However, this time, it was different. I was truly done loving him.

*****

For the next three days, I focused on taking care of everything I needed to do before leaving. I checked out, packed up, and settled things with the landlord.

Sean showed up every day. Sometimes he sat downstairs. Sometimes he knocked on my door.

I never opened the door, not once.

On the third night, he switched tactics.

I got a call from his mother, Miranda.

"Harper." Miranda's voice was as polite and distant as ever. "Sean said you had a little disagreement. Young couples always have their ups and downs. Why don't we grab dinner and talk things over?"

A little disagreement? Was that how he explained it to his family?

"Mrs. Lane," I said calmly, "it's not a little disagreement. Sean and I are done. The wedding is off."

There was a pause on the other end.

Then Miranda laughed, the indulgent laugh of an older person humoring a younger person's moment of impulsiveness. "Oh, couples don't break up over something like this. Sean isn't good at expressing himself, but he does care about you."

I cut her off. "Mrs. Lane, he's been sleeping at Sarah's place every night for five years."

The laughter on the phone cut off instantly.

The silence dragged on for ages. Then Miranda spoke again, her tone different.

The politeness was gone, replaced by something cold and edged with irritation. "Harper, don't make accusations like that.

"Sarah and Sean went to school together. She's got no family here, and Sean helps her out. You need to stop overthinking things."

"Does 'helping out' mean sharing a bed every night?" I asked.

Miranda was speechless.

"Mrs. Lane, I'm not here to blame anyone," I said, taking a deep breath. "I'm only letting you know that the wedding is canceled. We won't have anything to do with each other from now on. Take care."

I hung up. I stared at my phone, letting out a bitter laugh.

Miranda knew. From the way she reacted, she knew about Sarah, and she had accepted what was happening.

"She's got no family here, and Sean helps her out."

What a convenient excuse.

I suddenly remembered all the little things from the past five years that had made me uncomfortable without ever giving me enough reason to say anything.

Every time the Lane family got together, Sarah was there. Miranda would warmly take her hand and fuss over her, asking about her job, making sure she was taken good care of.

However, with me, she was always polite and distant. "Harper, come over and have a seat."

One New Year, Miranda gave everyone a gift.

Sarah got a pair of diamond earrings, while I got nothing but 60 dollars.

I smiled and thanked her, telling myself not to make a big deal out of it.

However, all those little things I had forced myself not to care about had piled up over the years, until they finally became bitter reminders of how little I had ever mattered to that family.