Chapter 1

He kept our marriage a secret for four years, hiding it from the entire world.

I knew exactly what that meant. He was still waiting for his first crush to come back to him.

And I knew just as clearly, he never loved me.

*****

Jonathan Reed: [I'm not coming home for dinner tonight. Don't wait up.]

By the time Jonathan's message popped up, I had already been sitting in his favorite restaurant for two hours, waiting.

Four years of marriage, and he still couldn't remember our wedding anniversary.

Even though I reminded him this very morning, it slipped his mind again.

As the sky darkened, I forced a calm smile and waved the waiter over to serve the dishes. I shoved the food into my mouth absentmindedly, chewing without tasting a thing.

I kept cutting into the steak stubbornly, the silver blade screeching against the white porcelain plate.

"Hiss—" My fingers flinched involuntarily.

The tip of the knife had sliced my fingertip open. Blood welled up, but oddly, I didn't feel any pain.

I had never been good at cutting steak. Jonathan used to cut it for me, placing the pieces neatly on my plate.

Back then, I once teased him, "What will I do when I have to eat steak without you?"

He answered, "That'll never happen. I'll always be here."

I pressed down on the wound and let out a bitter little laugh. That was just something he had said casually. Only a fool would take it seriously.

The moment I set down my knife and fork and looked up, Jonathan walked through the entrance. For a second, joy shot through me, and I almost stood up to call his name.

Then another figure followed behind him.

It was his long-cherished ex-girlfriend, Sophie Carter.

Sophie wore a crisp white suit, looking far more mature than she used to. Her bright eyes shimmered as she gazed at Jonathan, soft and innocent, just like she had been years ago.

Jonathan had clearly reserved the table beforehand. He exchanged a few words with the waiter, then stepped aside to let Sophie walk ahead. They smiled at each other, their eyes brimming with tenderness.

I froze, staring blankly. When Jonathan's gaze almost drifted my way, I quickly covered half my face and turned toward the window.

The night outside had deepened.

My heart pounded violently. I fled, hurrying home, where I sat in the dark living room for what felt like hours, struggling to catch my breath.

Sophie was back.

So that was it. Sophie was back.

All of Jonathan's absentmindedness, his sudden disappearances. They all made sense now.

I had been married to him for four years, but I had loved him for almost ten.

Jonathan was two years ahead of me in college. More than half the girls on campus had a crush on him. I was no exception.

Once, while he was delivering a speech as student representative, a girl shouted from the crowd in front of the entire school, "Jonathan, I like you." She instantly became the campus legend.

That girl was Sophie.

Sophie was my roommate, my closest friend at the time, and she said it while sitting right beside me.

I looked at her flushed face, bright with excitement, the light dancing in her eyes, and my heart sank as if a heavy weight had been dropped on it.

She knew better than anyone that I liked Jonathan, yet she never once admitted that she liked him, too.

With her striking looks and vivacious personality, it was no surprise that she quickly won over Jonathan, the campus heartthrob.

They were inseparable. Jonathan introduced her to everyone he met. "My girlfriend, Sophie." His eyes were brimming with affection.

So what if I had ranked first in the entire department just to get into Jonathan's debate team?

So what if I worked tirelessly to earn the Best Debater award for him?

Every step I took toward him demanded my utmost effort, while Sophie captured his love without lifting a finger.

The front door clicked open softly. Jonathan was back.

He tiptoed inside, and when he saw me lying on the sofa, he gently draped a blanket over me.

I opened my eyes. Our gazes met. He was so close. His sharp features stood out against the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. A foreign perfume clung to him, seeping into my nose until I felt sick.

"Ugh—" I gagged, unable to stop myself. Maybe it was from leaving the restaurant too quickly with food still heavy in my stomach, or maybe it was his scent, but it made my head spin.

"It's late. Why didn't you go to bed?" His voice was soft, unbothered. He reached out and rubbed my head gently, his warm fingertips gliding down to my cheek.

"Why are you only coming back now?" I ignored the hint of coaxing in his tone, sitting up with a touch of irritation.

"Are you mad?" He crouched in front of me, tilting his head up to meet my eyes. His fingers lightly brushed my hand, patting my palm in a soothing gesture. A quiet laugh laced through his low voice, playful and coaxing.

He knew me too well. I couldn't stay angry for more than three seconds when he acted like this.

"You know what today is, right?" My voice softened despite myself.

Suddenly, he pulled out a velvet jewelry box. My heart skipped. It had to be the necklace I had been wanting.

Then he stepped back toward the doorway, picking up an enormous bouquet of roses. The bouquet was so large that it almost swallowed his frame.

Switching on the living room light, he placed the bouquet in front of me.

"Happy anniversary, Natalie. I'm sorry I was so busy tonight." His tone was gentle, tender. He never mentioned Sophie.

And I didn't bring her up, either.

In the past, I would have been swept away by his sweetness, blinded by his carefully crafted romance.

But tonight, I just watched from the sidelines, detached, as though his flawless performance no longer had anything to do with me.

Jonathan was impeccable, attentive, romantic, and considerate.

But he didn't love me.