Chapter 1

The day the project's award winners were announced, my name was pushed to the very last line.

The first-author position, meanwhile, had gone to Gwen Clark.

She stood on stage, wearing the white suit I'd lent her, her eyes rimmed with red as she said, "If it weren't for Antonio, I wouldn't have made it this far."

The whole audience applauded.

Antonio Torres sat in the front row, gazing at her with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years.

The host paused for a beat before reading my name. "Core team member: Eloise Dixon."

At the words "core team member", a cold chill slowly crept into my palms.

Over ten years, from the project's conception to its launch, I'd worked through three episodes of gastric bleeding and revised the plan ninety-seven times.

Even when my father underwent his final surgery, I'd only taken the call while standing in a hospital hallway.

Antonio had promised that once the project won an award, we'd get married.

He said this project would be our shared child.

Now the child was here.

But it didn't bear my name.

After the awards ceremony, Antonio finally thought of me and walked over, trophy in hand.

He lowered his voice, as if coaxing a wilful kid.

"Eloise, Gwen just got back. Her resume is still pretty thin," he said. "This authorship means a lot to her."

I stared at the name engraved on the trophy.

Then I glanced at the email I'd just received on my phone.

An offer letter from an overseas research institute sat quietly on the screen.

I nodded. "Then I wish you all the best with your project."

Antonio froze. "What do you mean?"

I took off my work ID badge and set it down next to the trophy in his hand.

"It means I'm leaving," I said.

*****

The trophy's base pressed down on the edge of my ID badge.

The silver clasp gave a quiet click.

Antonio's expression finally changed.

Gwen had just come down from the stage, still holding the bouquet, tears still clinging to her lashes. When she heard what I said, she stopped in her tracks.

Some of the other team members nearby turned to look.

Some people hadn't even wiped the smiles off their faces yet.

Someone was holding up their phone with the livestream still running. The camera shook, catching me and Antonio right in the frame.

Antonio reached out, picked up my ID badge, and pressed it back into my palm.

He said, "Eloise, there are a lot of people here today. Don't cause a fuss."

He pressed the ID badge into my palm so hard it felt like it was burning into my skin.

I looked down at it.

The photo on it had been taken six years earlier.

Back then, the project had just passed its initial review. I'd pulled three all-nighters in a row, and when the photo was taken, I had heavy dark circles under my eyes. Antonio was behind the camera, teasing me.

"Once this project wins an award, I'll get you a proper new headshot for this," Antonio had said.

But he kept putting it off.

Now, my photo was faded, and the project was no longer mine.

I didn't reach for the badge.

It slipped from my open palm and dropped onto the red carpet.

The sound was soft.

But it felt like something had shattered.

Antonio bent down to pick it up, his brows furrowed.

He said, "Eloise."

There was a note of warning in his voice when he said my name.

I used to fear this tone more than anything.

Whenever he turned cold, I would be the one to smooth things over.

I did it because the project needed his support and because I loved him.

In ten years, I'd mastered many ways to give in.

Gwen walked over, hugging the bouquet to her chest, her voice soft and gentle.

She said, "Eloise, don't be mad at Antonio. It's my fault for not being good enough. I never felt I deserved first author, but the award materials were already submitted. It would be such a hassle to change them now."

As she spoke, she held out the award certificate to me.

She added, "Do you want the certificate instead? I know you put in way more effort than I did."

For a moment, the room fell silent.

I looked at the certificate she was holding out to me.

On the first line, Gwen's name was printed neatly and prominently.

Her fingers were delicate, her nails painted a soft pink.

There was a faint ink stain on the cuff of her white suit.

It was from the pen she'd knocked out of my hand during her first team meeting last month, back when she was so nervous she could barely sit still.

She'd been close to tears, saying she couldn't afford to pay for it, so I told her to keep the suit.

Antonio had laughed beside her.

"Eloise, go easy on her. She just got back from abroad. She doesn't know how things work yet," he had said.

Back then, I thought I was only handing over a suit.

I didn't know that concessions built on themselves.

I didn't take the certificate. I turned to Antonio and asked, "When did you change the award materials?"

Antonio avoided my gaze.

Gwen lowered her head.

One of the team members coughed and whispered, "I think it was last Friday."

Last Friday, I had been at the hospital for a follow-up endoscopy.

Antonio had said there were minor issues with the award materials and asked me to send him my authorization code so he could handle it for me.