I glanced at him and recognized the boy from years ago, the one who'd been humiliated into a rage when his pursuit of me went nowhere.
Back then, the moment he heard I was with Dana Gilbert, he'd hurled the gift in his hand straight at me.
"If Samantha Simmons hadn't gone abroad, you really think you'd ever get to kiss Dana Gilbert's feet?"
"Carmen Harding, you're nothing but his backup girl."
I didn't listen. All I could remember then was Dana, eyes red beneath a sky full of fireworks, telling me I was the one and only choice of his life.
But everything he did now was like grinding that promise into the dirt.
He was busy getting Samantha settled in the seat beside him, tearing open a fresh set of bowls and chopsticks for her, arranging her bag and coat.
Samantha's gaze lingered on the engagement ring on my hand and on his.
"I heard your wedding's coming up soon. Congratulations."
Dana picked up a piece of roast goose and set it in her bowl, denying it almost reflexively.
"Not yet. We're still picking a date."
"Her mom went to the temple and got a few good dates, but I'm still on the fence."
I turned to look at him. "Didn't we settle on the fifth—"
Before I could finish, a chopstick-load of chili was shoved into my mouth.
The fierce heat shot up through my nose, choking me until tears wouldn't stop streaming.
Only after gulping down a whole glass of water did I understand what Dana meant.
A flicker of self-mockery crossed my eyes as I opened my phone and sent a message.
【Wedding canceled. Permanently.】
In front of me, Dana waved a hand before my face.
"What are you spacing out for?"
"You want the pickled fish soup downstairs in a bit, or the wontons on the next street over?"
Out of habit, he pulled out his phone, ready to flip a coin to decide.
But a message popped up in the chat window first.
【Suddenly craving that barbecue place by the old school gate.】
Dana hid his phone fast, but I still saw the sender and the message.
He grabbed the coat off the couch and pulled it on, hurrying out.
"Work just told me to come in for overtime. Grab whatever you want for lunch."
He came and went in a rush, never once noticing that I'd already taken down nearly all the wedding decorations around the apartment.
I tore the sticky note in my hand to pieces and tossed it into the trash, along with the last of the big red double-happiness cutouts.
Once all the useless things were cleared away, the eight-hundred-square-foot apartment looked oddly empty.
Last night, when Patrick Dickerson dropped me off and flicked on the light, the first thing he did was let out a scoff.
He was the neighbor I'd grown up bickering with since childhood, and he happened to be in Shoreline City on business lately.
He dropped into the single armchair without ceremony, then pinched Dana's things between two fingers and flung them to the floor.
"I think your brain's gone soft. You've got a three-story mansion sitting empty in Northbridge, and instead you're crammed into a tenement here with someone else."
For once, I didn't fire back at him.
All because of one line Dana said back then: "I want to build a home for you in Shoreline City, on my own."
So I turned down the place my parents bought me, ghosted Patrick's offer to go into business together, and started from nothing in Shoreline City with Dana.
Thinking back now, it really was stupid.
"You actually planning to come back this time?"
I nodded.
"No taking it back?"
I turned to him and held out my pinky.
"If I'm not back in three days, you drag me back even if you have to tie me up."
Patrick hooked his pinky around mine and sealed it, the corners of his mouth lifting and refusing to come down.
"It's a deal."
After putting everything in order, I went to the company and clocked in like usual, then knocked on the door of my manager's office.
"Come in."
