Chapter 2

Panic filled her eyes, and pleading too. "I know. But he really might do something."

I stared hard at her. "Whether he does or not, why is that so much your business?"

She opened her mouth as if there were a lot she wanted to say, but in the end she squeezed out only one line. "When I get back, I'll explain."

That line again.

It was always "I'll explain later."

She never once explained anything clearly.

I let go of her wrist.

"Go."

She froze for a second.

My smile was cold. "Go save your male best friend."

Vivian went even paler. She seemed about to say something, but in the end she turned and left.

The moment the door shut, the whole newlywed home went frighteningly quiet.

Our enlarged wedding photo stood by the head of the bed.

In it, she leaned on my shoulder, smiling softly.

Here in the room, though, there was only me.

I didn't go after her.

It wasn't that I didn't want to. I just refused to make myself look even more pathetic.

I sat in the living room for ten minutes, my head a total mess.

Eventually I got up and went to the window anyway.

The lights below were bright.

Before long, I saw Vivian hurry out with her coat around her shoulders and stop beside a black SUV.

The driver's window rolled down. Cole reached out and grabbed her.

Vivian bent down and said a few words, like she was trying to talk him down.

The next second, Cole yanked her straight into the passenger seat.

The door slammed shut.

The car shot off.

I stood there on the twenty-sixth floor, watching the taillights disappear, and felt my chest go cold inch by inch.

I didn't sleep that night.

The wedding bed was scattered with rose petals, tacky and festive.

I stared at that sea of red until dawn, and all I felt was the irony.

At two in the morning, my mom called to ask whether we'd gotten home.

I stared at the phone and hesitated a long time before I answered.

"We're home."

"Where's Vivian? Did you two eat anything?"

My throat tightened. "She went out."

"Where?"

I didn't say.

My mom heard that something was wrong, and her voice shot up. "Ethan, tell me what's going on."

I couldn't hold it in anymore, and I told her everything.

There were three seconds of silence on the other end.

Then my mom exploded.

"She ran off to her male best friend on your wedding night? What does she take you for?"

"I said that man was trouble!"

"Pack up her things right now and don't let her in the door!"

I pressed my fingers between my brows. "Mom, stop yelling for a second."

"I'm yelling? Someone walks all over you and you're still protecting her?"

My dad took the phone. His voice, at least, was steady. "Son, is she back yet?"

"No."

"Then don't do anything rash. When she gets back, ask her and get a straight answer."

I said quietly, "Dad, some things you know without asking."

My dad was silent for a while. All he said was, "Marriage isn't a game, and divorce is even less of one. Just get through tonight."

But that night, nobody could get through it.

Sometime after three, I went out on the balcony and smoked half a pack of cigarettes.

At four-thirty, I opened my laptop and searched for a divorce papers template.

At five, I went over every scene from the past few years that had anything to do with Vivian and Cole.

The more I thought about it, the more I felt like a joke.

In our second month of dating, Cole sent her a photo of himself with a high fever in the middle of the night, and she brought him medicine in the rain.

In our fifth month, Cole said his company had laid him off, and she lent him the two thousand dollars she'd saved up for a class.

The day before our engagement, Cole got drunk, called, and cussed me out, saying I wasn't good enough for Vivian.

Vivian was right there next to me.

I told her to put it on speaker. She wouldn't.

I said, "If you don't deal with this, we're not getting engaged."

With red eyes, she nodded and said she'd cut him off.

But did she?

No.

One call from him, and she went, same as always.

I'm no saint.

I'm not that generous either.

I could accept her being soft-hearted. I could accept her being sentimental about old ties. I could even accept her not seeing things clearly for a while.

What I couldn't accept was her leaving me alone on our wedding night to go be with another man.

Even if nothing had happened between them, the act itself had already trampled our marriage into the dirt.

When the sky began to lighten, I printed out the divorce papers and signed my name.

The pages slid out of the printer with a faint rustling sound.

It wasn't loud.

But every rustle felt like something knocking against my skull.

At seven-twenty in the morning, the lock on the door clicked.

Vivian was back.