Chapter 1

When he was young and reckless, Oliver Brooks would parade around with his first love, holding her hand and showing off for everyone to see.

But after he started dating me, our relationship had to stay hidden.

I thought he'd matured, until his birthday, when I overheard Oliver calling his first love.

"Ruby, if you don't come back, I'm going to marry someone else," Oliver said.

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

"Pick me up at the airport tomorrow afternoon," Ruby replied.

The room erupted in cheers.

I quietly tucked away the ring and the pregnancy test, then walked in without a word.

The room went dead silent. I looked at Oliver with a calm smile.

"Congratulations," I said.

The room quickly returned to its lively atmosphere, but Oliver's face darkened.

*****

That night, Oliver drank heavily and kept me up all night, taking out his frustrations on me.

At the most intense moment, he covered my mouth to keep me quiet, bit my earlobe, and growled, "Congratulations."

He seemed obsessed with those words, unable to let them go.

The next morning, Oliver acted like nothing had happened. He made breakfast, handed me a plate, and just asked if I had anything going on that afternoon.

"I have a check-up at the hospital. Want to come with me?" I said.

Oliver met my eyes with an ambiguous smirk. "I'm picking someone up at the airport. You heard me yesterday, didn't you?"

I nodded and didn't feel like talking anymore.

Oliver got dressed and was about to leave when he suddenly turned back.

"Wait for me at the hospital. I'll pick you up after I get back from the airport," he said.

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on his profile. His long lashes dipped low, and his tea-brown eyes shimmered with a faint, distant light.

Every feature on his face showed he was blessed by the universe.

It was no wonder I'd been so head over heels for him.

I was just making excuses for myself.

But after learning the hard way, I knew it was time to walk away.

"Are you sure you don't want to keep them? Twins are pretty rare. I'd suggest you talk it over with the father. He'll need to sign some papers," the doctor said, looking at the report with obvious regret.

I stood outside the exam room, hand pressed to my stomach, lost in thought for a long time before finally calling Oliver.

"Hello?" I said.

As soon as the call connected, there was static and shuffling sounds, like someone was wrestling for the phone.

"What? You're picking up a call from an unknown number? Trying to dodge my questions, huh?

"Whoever's listening, just so you know, Oliver belongs to me this afternoon. No one's taking him away," Ruby said, her voice playful and teasing.

"Cut it out," Oliver said, sounding both exasperated and indulgent.

After another burst of static, the call ended.

I stared at my phone screen for so long that my eyes grew dry, but it never lit up again.

I let out a bitter laugh, wiped away my tears, and without a second thought, booked the procedure and applied for a transfer to the company's South America branch.

The smell of disinfectant made my head ache. I called a cab and went home, burying myself in bed and sleeping for hours.

Half-asleep, I was jolted awake by my phone ringing. I fumbled for it and saw dozens of missed calls, all from Oliver.

The bedroom door slammed open, making me jump.

Oliver's face was pale, and he was breathing hard as he snapped at me, "Why didn't you answer your phone? Why didn't you wait for me? I almost called the cops!"

Oliver had a tough, intimidating look, but he rarely lost his temper.

This was the first time he'd ever blown up at me like this.

I bit my lip. "I was asleep. Did you pick her up?"

Oliver didn't answer. He braced his hands on the edge of the bed, trying to catch his breath.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" he asked.

I caught a faint, unfamiliar scent on him, and my heart felt heavy. "I'm done waiting."

Oliver didn't move. His eyes were dark and intense, fixed on me, waiting for an explanation.

He never bothered to answer my questions.

But when it came to his, he'd press until he got every answer he wanted.

Feeling overwhelmed and wronged, I blurted out, "I'm done with this. Let's break up."

Oliver just snorted, clearly not taking me seriously, and gave my cheek a playful pinch. "Are you still half-asleep or what?"

He stood up, shrugged off his jacket, tossed it to me like it was nothing, and headed for the kitchen.

Oliver played sports, so he had those broad shoulders and a trim waist that always caught my eye.

I leaned against the doorway, watching him move around the kitchen, but all I could think about was how he used to look when we were younger.

My parents were always too busy with work to come home, so I'd end up eating at his place. Most of the time, his folks weren't around either.

Oliver was just about to rip open a pack of instant noodles, but when he saw me eyeing his food like a hungry puppy, he just sighed, gave in, and grabbed some tomatoes and eggs from the fridge instead.

He was tall and lean, and wasn't exactly a pro in the kitchen yet. When an eggshell slipped into the pan, he'd carefully fish it out with his fork.

Back then, Oliver was already a big deal at school, getting love letters from girls all the time.