Chapter 2

The next afternoon, I put on the custom tailored suit Mia had once bought me, strapped on an expensive watch, and stepped into our old coffee shop.

It was the same café we used to frequent five years ago. Nothing had changed. My eyes naturally drifted to the corner booth where we always sat.

A woman was sitting there quietly, wearing a face mask, dark sunglasses, and a designer bucket hat. But no matter how disguised she was, I recognized her in a heartbeat.

It was Mia.

I stared at her, utterly dazed. For a brief second, time seemed to rewind to those sweet, simple days when I could hold her tight and tell her I loved her with reckless abandon.

But I knew I couldn't be greedy.

Fate had already granted me too many unearned miracles.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and slipped into the seat across from her. Without even looking up at me, she spoke:

"You're here, Julian."

Her voice was as melodious as ever, clear and bright. She asked coolly:

"How have you been lately?"

I kept my sunglasses and mask on. My voice was raspy with exhaustion, but I forced a light, cheerful tone.

"Never better. Great career, a nice house, a luxury car, healthy as an ox. Got a gorgeous wife and an adorable kid. Life's good."

Mia let out a cold, sharp laugh.

"Is that so? Funny, when I signed the brand ambassador contract with your old gaming studio, they told me you were fired years ago."

My gaze drifted out the window toward the giant digital billboard. It was an ad for the mega-hit video game, Second Life. And Mia was its face.

Second Life was the game I had personally designed from scratch. I was the lead creative director.

But shortly after my cancer diagnosis, the company decided I was a liability because I couldn't pull eighty-hour workweeks anymore. They found an excuse to fire me.

Worse, before letting me go, they forced me to sign over all intellectual property rights for pennies.

Just as I had envisioned, Second Life had become a global phenomenon. One out of every five people in the world played it.

That game was my entire life's work.

Mia pulled down her mask, revealing a smile that was breathtakingly gorgeous—and utterly frozen. I couldn't even come up with a lie in time.

I lifted my paper cup, frozen for a second, and faked another chuckle. "Come on, indie game dev doesn't pay real money anyway. I quit that scene ages ago!"

Mia's expression grew colder, her tone dripping with disdain.

"Didn't you tell me that creating the ultimate game was your lifelong dream? It's only been five years. Did you forget that already?"

She sneered slightly.

"Then again, it makes sense. You promised you'd love me forever, too, didn't you? And then you dumped me the second things got rough."

"That's just who you are. Vows, dreams... to you, nothing matters more than money."

Her words pierced my heart like a serrated blade.

She wasn't wrong. When I left her, she was on the verge of entering that massive national reality talent competition.

She had scraped together every cent she had just to pay the entry fees. She relied entirely on my paycheck just to eat.

And that was precisely when I walked out on her.

In her eyes, I was nothing more than an absolute, irredeemable scumbag.

All interest in talking to me seemed to vanish in an instant. She set down her cup and pulled her mask back up.

Mia brushed off her sleeves as if sitting across from me was tainting her pristine designer clothes.

Seeing her get ready to leave, desperation flared in my chest. "Where are you going? Are you leaving already?"

Mia cast a freezing glance at me.

"I'm getting married. Are you coming?"