Chapter 5

Tomorrow was our fifth anniversary.

I woke up at six a.m. sharp.

Ethan was still asleep on the sofa. He'd stayed up late last night helping Vivian pack.

I didn't wake him. I wheeled my suitcase to the entrance.

At ten a.m., Ethan woke up.

He saw me sitting in the living room and walked over, running his hand through his hair.

"You didn't go to work today?"

"Took the day off," I said.

He seemed to remember something and slapped his forehead.

"Right, it's our fifth anniversary."

He walked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, twisting it open and taking a sip.

"Where do you want to eat tonight? I'll book a steakhouse."

I looked at his perfunctory expression.

Over five years, our anniversary had been canceled four times.

The first time, he had to accompany Vivian to see a doctor in another city.

The second time, Vivian was feeling down, so he took her to see the ocean.

The third time, it conflicted with Vivian's birthday.

The fourth time---last year---he was at the hospital with Vivian while she got an IV.

"No need," I said.

Ethan frowned. "What now? I'm the one who brought it up, and you still want to ruin it?"

Just then, his phone rang.

The name "Vivian" flashed on the screen.

Ethan immediately answered, his tone instantly anxious.

"What's wrong, Vivian?"

"What? You twisted your ankle? How could you be so careless!"

"Where are you? I'll be right there!"

He hung up and grabbed his car keys from the coffee table.

"Lily, Vivian missed a step going down the stairs. Her ankle's really bad. I need to take her to the hospital."

"Go to the restaurant tonight without me. I'll meet you there when I'm done."

He didn't even wait for my answer before rushing out the door.

The door slammed shut with a loud echo.

I sat on the sofa, watching the clock on the wall tick away.

At noon, I stood up.

I put everything Ethan had bought me over the past five years into a black trash bag. There wasn't much---a few clearance clothes, a lipstick that smudged, and some cheap earrings.

I placed the trash bag by the door, then took out my keys and set them in the center of the coffee table.

I pulled my suitcase out of the apartment I'd lived in for five years.

At three p.m., I was sitting on a train heading home.

The scenery outside the window flew past in reverse.

My phone vibrated.

A message from the landlord: "Lily, I'm going to collect the keys. The door's unlocked, so I'll just take them, okay?"

I replied with "Okay."

Then Ethan's message popped up.

"Vivian broke a bone in her foot. She needs a cast. I can't make it tonight."

"Get yourself something good to eat. I owe you one."

"Oh, and did you clear out the storage room? Vivian's stuff is being delivered tonight."

I looked at the words on the screen and typed out a response.

"All cleared out."

"Keys are on the coffee table."

After sending those two sentences, I clicked on his profile picture.

Delete. Block. Done.

The train entered a tunnel. The cabin went dark.

I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes.