Chapter 3

The room instantly erupted with questions about who it was.

Catherine's expression gradually darkened as she stared at her phone.

I felt my phone vibrate twice but didn't check, only saying:

"She had something come up. She didn't make it."

Seven or eight girls didn't come today.

Kelly looked disappointed, about to ask more, when Victor suddenly exclaimed "Ah."

His cup had tipped over, water soaking his pants.

Catherine quickly grabbed tissues to help him wipe it off. He bent over, stopping her, apologetic:

"Sorry about that. Didn't hold it steady."

"It's fine. I'll go back with you to change. Don't want you catching cold."

She left with Victor. With them gone, the documentary lost its appeal, and everyone dispersed.

When I returned to my room, the suitcase was open.

Catherine's change of clothes and makeup bag were gone.

I stared at my phone all night.

The unread messages on screen were still those two she'd sent:

"Don't say anything. Don't ruin the mood."

Right. I, as the boyfriend, couldn't ruin the ambiguous atmosphere between her and another guy.

Just like during the charity sale sophomore year—though I had the highest earnings, I had to give the certificate to Victor. Couldn't steal his spotlight.

Or like the tennis tournament junior year—because of Victor's one comment "I want to try competing," I had to withdraw. Couldn't damage his enthusiasm.

These three years, Catherine treated me well.

She brought me water during matches, knitted me a scarf when it got cold.

Apart from refusing to make our relationship public, she did everything a girlfriend should do.

Except when it came to Victor—I always came second.

Dawn broke. My phone still hadn't rung.

I gazed at the sun gradually rising outside the window, my heart growing calmer.

Today's itinerary was sightseeing.

Catherine and Victor wore red wristbands, walking together the entire time.

The camera I'd bought her ended up in Victor's hands. He photographed her at every Instagram-worthy spot, then took selfies with her at the landmarks.

While resting by the bridge, people asked about my future plans.

"Owen, are you staying in LA or going back to New York?"

I replied flatly: "Going back to New York."

Catherine wiped Victor's sweat, casting a seemingly casual glance my way.

Kelly nudged her:

"Victor's from LA. You'll definitely stay in LA, right?"

Catherine answered without hesitation:

"Naturally."

Victor looked down with a smile, subtly moving closer until they were pressed tightly together.

But a classmate seemed puzzled:

"Owen, didn't you already find work in LA? Why are you going back?"

I smiled:

"I turned down the job. Want to be closer to my parents."

"Really? Is it for your parents, or for your girlfriend?"

Everyone gathered around gossiping. My smile deepened:

"Both. My parents are getting older—I want to stay nearby to take care of them. She... also decided to settle in New York."

People teased and pressed me about who she was, but I just shook my head, refusing to say.

At the next attraction, Catherine blocked me at the restroom entrance.

"You really turned down the job?" She was anxious.

After all, we'd found the work together. The company valued my grades, and my condition for joining was that they also hire my girlfriend.

Now that I'd withdrawn, she couldn't stay either.

I nodded, my tone calm:

"My parents arranged work for us in New York. Once we're settled, we'll get engaged."

"Owen!"

Catherine suddenly flared up, but afraid others would hear, she suppressed it until her face turned ashen:

"Who gave you permission to arrange my future without asking!"