Chapter 1
The day Maxwell Watts got his marriage license, I booked a one-way ticket to Tunias.
On his social media, he posted a photo.
Outside the city hall, holding that certificate, Olivia was leaning on his shoulder, smiling.
The caption was: [Spending the rest of my life with you.]
I couldn't take my eyes off those words.
Then I exited his feed and confirmed my one-way flight.
*****
I found out Maxwell had gotten the certificate at exactly 2:17 PM.
I remember it so clearly because I was right in the middle of tweaking the procurement plan.
It was Vertex Technologies' annual procurement plan—a 12-million-dollar deal.
My phone buzzed.
It was the company group chat.
Someone had posted a screenshot—Maxwell's social media post.
[Wait, Maxwell got married?!]
[Who's the bride?]
[Olivia, you know, the one from marketing.]
[When did this happen?]
I stared at the screen, my fingers frozen.
I hired Olivia into the company.
On her interview day, she was all smiles and impressed me.
I told HR, "This girl's sharp. Let's keep her."
Now, she was leaning on Maxwell's shoulder, smiling like she owned the world.
The messages in the group chat kept flooding in.
[Does Emma know?]
As soon as that message popped up, the group chat went dead silent.
After a few seconds, no one said a word.
The whole company knew I had a thing for Maxwell, except Maxwell.
I flipped my phone face down on the desk.
I kept working on the plan.
I turned to page three, the price list.
The numbers were blurring.
I blinked hard.
I didn't cry.
It was not that I didn't want to cry.
I just couldn't make myself cry.
It'd been eight years, from college all the way to now.
In our sophomore year, Maxwell twisted his ankle on the basketball court.
I raced through three buildings, carrying a first aid kit.
He sat there on the ground, smiling at how out of breath I was.
Maxwell said, "Emma, what's the rush? It's not like I'm dying."
That was the first time my heart skipped a beat because of him.
Those eight years after that, I did a lot for him.
When he was applying to grad school, I helped him get his materials together.
When he was job hunting, I helped him polish his resume.
When he joined Vertex Technologies, I followed him there too.
When he needed money for a down payment on a house, I lent him 60 thousand dollars.
I'd saved up every penny in four years of working.
He wrote me an IOU, promising to pay me back by the end of the year.
That was two years ago.
The IOU was still tucked away in my drawer.
He never paid me back.
But I never brought it up.
Because I thought, maybe when he finally paid me back, I'd find the courage to tell him I'd loved him for years, from sophomore year until now.
But now, it didn't matter anymore.
He was married.
Yet the bride wasn't me.
My phone buzzed again.
It wasn't the company group chat.
It was a text message.
[Your application for the visiting scholar program at Tunias Institute of Technology has been confirmed. Please complete your visa application within 7 days.]
The email had arrived three days ago.
I still hadn't responded because I was waiting for something.
Waiting for what, exactly? I couldn't really say why.
Maybe I was just waiting for him to come to me and say, "Emma, I have something to tell you."
But now, there was nothing left to wait for.
I opened the email and replied: [Confirmed.]