Chapter 2

I'd been to Fiona's family Christmas party many times before.

But today was the first time I walked through that door not as Fiona's fiancé.

"Is that Johnson? How did he..."

"Who's he holding hands with? Someone from the John family?"

"And who's that guy next to Fiona? What's going on here..."

Fiona stood up abruptly. The movement was so sudden that her chair legs scraped across the floor with a piercing screech.

Her eyes were rimmed with red as she pointed at Susan.

"Do you know he's my fiancé?"

Susan turned her head to glance at me, as if checking whether I needed her to speak.

I shook my head slightly.

Fiona's mother, Mary, smiled and tried to smooth things over.

"Johnson, there must be some misunderstanding here. Fiona's just young and playful, but she still cares about you..."

I looked at Mary and smiled too.

"She's been playing for a year, gone through seven guys, and today she brought number eight."

Fiona's father, Tony, turned iron-faced and shot Fiona a fierce glare.

Fiona tried to speak, but I raised my hand to cut her off.

"Fiona's right—staying faithful to one person really is a loss. So I'm calling off this engagement first."

I pushed the engagement contract forward again and turned to look at my father, Anderson.

His expression was unreadable as he locked eyes with me for three seconds, then stood up.

"Tony, this is the kids' business. We adults should stay out of it."

"But as for this engagement, if Johnson wants to call it off, I support him."

Tony's face darkened as he yelled at Fiona, "Get out of here!"

Fiona was banished to the study. Even through the door, you could hear things being thrown.

Mary said nothing in the end and followed her into the study.

Bob stood there alone, pinned by stares from all directions. Uncomfortable and hunched, he quickly left the main hall.

The Christmas dinner ended hastily.

I walked Susan to the door and released her hand.

"Thank you for tonight, Susan."

She looked up at me, her gaze gentle, with no unnecessary words:

"It was my honor to play along with your performance."

Then she got into her car and disappeared into the night.

I stood at Fiona's family's doorway. The wind blew past, slightly chilly.

My white shirt had gotten wine stains on it earlier. They'd dried now, leaving dark red marks.

Back home, I threw myself onto the couch and lay there with my eyes closed for a long time.

My mind kept replaying that year when Fiona first held my hand and said, "Johnson is my man."

At eighteen, when our families arranged the engagement, she said in front of everyone, "He's the only one for me in this lifetime."

Yet at twenty-two, she showed up in front of me with her eighth boyfriend.

The person I once protected was no longer mine.

I opened my eyes, took out my phone, and pulled up Fiona's chat.

The last message was from three days ago—a photo of her and Bob.

"New boyfriend. Handsome, right?"

I hadn't replied then, and I wouldn't reply now.

I clicked on her profile picture and deleted her contact.