Chapter 2

The next day was supposed to be our wedding dress appointment.

But Andrew hadn't come home all night.

He finally showed up—late—after I'd already tried on two dresses.

"Where were you last night? You didn't come home at all," I demanded.

"Seriously? That's the first thing you say to me? Sophia, stop acting like my mom," he snapped.

"Were you with Olivia again?" I asked flatly, though I already knew the answer.

"Yeah, so what? We grew up together. She's like a sister. Stop making drama out of nothing."

No guilt whatsoever. Just that cold, unreadable stare—like I was the problem.

He used to drop everything to cheer me up if I so much as frowned. But since Olivia returned, everything had changed.

Andrew went to try on a suit. He'd barely zipped up when his phone rang.

Olivia's voice came through, sweet but panicked.

"Andrew, I can't find my tuning tools anywhere! I have a job today—I'm going to be in so much trouble.

"Andrew, can you come help me look? Please?"

"Don't worry. Just try to remember where you left them. I'm on my way," Andrew said, his voice as soft as honey.

"I've got something urgent. We'll finish this later."

With that, he hurried out the door, leaving me there.

I tried on one wedding dress after another by myself, aided by the eager shop assistant, before settling in to wait for Andrew.

Hours passed. Andrew never came back.

The saleslady gave me a pitying look. "Sorry, ma'am, we're closing. You'll have to come back tomorrow."

I grabbed my things and practically ran out, face burning with embarrassment.

At home, my phone buzzed. An update from an account I followed.

Andrew's verified account—a new video.

The caption read: [Here's to the best of our times, and to the us we used to be.]

In the video, Andrew sat at a piano, playing softly. A girl with her back to the camera watched him.

I recognized that silhouette instantly—Olivia.

And that melody? I knew it so well.

I'd even used it as my ringtone once.

I used to tease him, "Are you planning to work on this forever?"

He'd laugh. "No rush. A great song takes time. I want to blow everyone away at our wedding."

His unfinished wedding piece—now complete. Posted for everyone to see.

But he'd played it for her. Not me.

The comments were flooded.

[This is so sweet! Making me want to fall in love!]

[Got to hear him play live! So jealous of his girlfriend!]

[Pure ear candy!]

Olivia had commented too.

[Thanks for all the love! I'm the happiest girl today.]

[Front row seat to Andrew's solo. Could listen forever.]

His friends chimed in below.

[Wishing you two forever!]

[Match made in heaven. When's the wedding? Can't wait!]

[A romance for her and her alone.]

I couldn't help but scoff.

Guess they thought no one who knew them was watching.

We weren't even broken up yet.

Andrew finally came home at one in the morning.

I shoved my phone in his face, showing him the video and comments.

I demanded, "So this is your 'urgent business'? You ditched our wedding dress appointment to serenade Olivia?

"Andrew, you promised that song was for our wedding. Remember?"

He looked guilty, his eyes darting away. "Olivia really did have an emergency. I didn't realize it'd take that long."

His tone then flipped to self-righteous, his gaze accusing me as if I'd stirred up all the trouble.

"Can you stop being so hard on Olivia? I wanted her to hear it. I needed help figuring out what to fix. It's not like you understand music anyway.

"Besides, I'll play for whoever I want. Stop being jealous and dragging Olivia into your drama.

"Those guys are just messing around—they always do that. She's like a sister to me. Can't you cut her some slack?"

So he knew exactly how those comments made me feel, even if I never said it.

He knew I was hurting, but expected me to suck it up and keep forgiving.

Did loving him mean he could walk all over me?

I closed my eyes, wishing this was just a nightmare.

I didn't recognize him anymore. The Andrew I knew would never be like this—now he just blamed me for everything.

I'd once seen his love. So, the absence of it now cut me deep.

We locked eyes. All that remained was disappointment.

Strike two. One more and I was done.