Chapter 1

The thunderstorm came suddenly, trapping me under the office building.

Ethan Quinn rushed over with an umbrella, but it tilted without hesitation toward the girl beside him.

"Sophia's shoes can't get wet. Wait here for a bit. I'll take her to the car first, then come back for you."

I watched his shoulder getting soaked.

The scene was so familiar.

Years ago, he would've gotten himself completely drenched just to keep the umbrella entirely over me, afraid I'd get touched by a single raindrop.

"Don't bother." I slipped off my heels and tossed them into a nearby trash can. "Mr. Quinn's umbrella is too small to cover two people. Don't strain yourself."

I walked barefoot into the pouring rain.

Behind me, Ethan called out.

"Violet!"

I didn't turn back.

The rain pounded painfully against my soles. The pebbles on the ground dug into my feet.

I'd been pampered since childhood. As a kid, I'd cry for hours just from stepping on seashells at the beach.

Ethan knew this better than anyone.

He used to laugh and say my feet were only meant for carpets, that they couldn't endure any hardship.

But today, even though he saw me abandon my shoes, his first instinct was still to tilt the umbrella toward Sophia White.

When I got home, I was dripping water everywhere.

My mom was coming down from upstairs. When she saw me like this, her face immediately darkened. "Who did this?"

"Who did it doesn't matter anymore. I've figured things out."

I bent down to get my slippers. My sole had been scraped raw in one spot, and it hurt to step down.

Ethan used to get anxious over small injuries like this, as if they were major incidents.

In senior year when I twisted my ankle, he carried me on his back for two blocks to the hospital, then cut up and threw away the shoes that had hurt me the next day.

Looking back now, I realized a man's devotion could have an expiration date.

I'd just finished my shower when my phone rang.

I thought Ethan had finally remembered me.

When I answered, his first words were, "Violet, Sophia got caught in the rain and her shoes are wet. Do you have any new clothes you haven't worn? I'll have my driver come pick them up."

I said nothing.

"Violet Smith, did you hear me?"

I laughed. "I heard you."

"Why don't you send her my unused boyfriend while you're at it?"

I hung up immediately.

The next second, Ethan sent me a message.

"Stop being passive-aggressive. Sophia is timid and can't handle you acting like this."

My mom sat across from me and spoke slowly. "Are you going to continue with this?"

I didn't play dumb. "No. I'm done."

She nodded, as if she'd expected it all along.

"You and Ethan grew up together. Your father and I always thought that even if he wasn't the brightest, he would at least treat you sincerely. Turns out we misjudged him."

I bent down to apply medicine to my foot. The alcohol stung sharply when it touched the wound, making my hand tremble.

My mom took the medicine from me. "Move back home tomorrow. Your father bought that wedding apartment for you anyway. No need to let someone else benefit from it."

I hummed in agreement.

That apartment had been decorated before Ethan and I got engaged.

I'd picked the living room sofa, the dining table, even the dishes in the kitchen—I'd carried them back piece by piece from business trips.

Back then, I felt marriage was close, and Ethan was close too.

Only now did I realize that being close doesn't mean you won't drift apart.

At one in the morning, Ethan called again.

"Are you still throwing a tantrum?"

"No."

"Sophia just got a fever. She's been blaming herself, saying she shouldn't have bothered me to pick you up. Come by tomorrow if you're free and tell her not to overthink it."

I almost thought I'd heard wrong.

"I'm supposed to comfort her?"

"Violet, she was scared today too."

"She was scared, so I have to make her feel better?"

Ethan was silent for two seconds.

Then he said, "You weren't this petty before."

I hung up on him.

Early the next morning, I had the driver take me to the wedding apartment.

I'd only planned to grab a few clothes.

But when I opened the door, I saw a pair of soaked white sneakers in the entryway.

There was half a cup of warm milk on the table.

And Sophia White, wearing my pajamas, sat in my usual spot, looking up at me timidly.

"Violet, don't misunderstand..."

Ethan walked out wearing an apron, holding freshly baked bread.

"Good timing."

"Sophia had a fever last night, so I let her stay over."