Chapter 9
He probably didn’t realize that Erica’s message was a spin on a line from Camus‘ *Wedding Collection*.@
Erica wanted to marry Dean.
I scrolled down a bit further. Dean’s last post was from two years ago–a quick airport snapshot, location tagged, captioned with just two words: “Business trip.” I couldn’t see the comments, but I could already imagine the flood of replies. The location? Another city in the same country where Erica lived.
Really, Dean’s social media had never had anything to do with me. Not even when we got married.”
Dinner with Bryan ended quietly. As we were saying goodbye, he suddenly asked, “Want to grab a drink?”
I was about to turn him down when he added, “You look like you could use one tonight.” “Perfect, so do I,” he said.
47
Bryan’s always been sharp–like that stray dog that used to hang around my old apartment building years ago. If I avoided its eyes, it knew not to bother me. If I slowed down, it would trot up beside me. When I finally went home, it’d pretend it was tired too, and see me off. Then, one day, it just disappeared.
A few drinks in, I ended up clinging to Bryan’s tie, sobbing.”
“I know I’m nothing special, but I try so hard. I work hard, I’m a good person–doesn’t that mean I deserve love?“”
Bryan took the glass out of my hand, smiling a little. “Have you ever thought maybe the kind of love you want is just one kind–the kind that’s all about appearances?”
“You keep looking for it from someone who can only give you that. There are people out there who care more about what’s inside…”
cut him off, nodding. “I’ve known that for a long time. So why does everyone keep reminding me?“}
I know I’m average. I made peace with that long ago. Honestly, I’m not ugly just plain. But when people keep pointing it out, it still gets to you.
That’s what Dean does these days–he finds little ways to tell me, again and again, that he doesn’t care about me.
Bryan just laughed, exasperated. “If you already know, why are you crying so loud?“}
He got up and poured me a glass of water.
Yeah, we’d ended up drinking at my place this time.
I let out a small laugh. “It’s a rare occasion.”
Later, when I flopped onto my bed, I heard Bryan say from the other room, “Next time we hang out, you don’t have to bother with makeup. Every time I help you take it off, I’m scared I’ll poke you in the eye.”
He hesitated, then added softly, “I’m not someone who cares about looks, anyway.”
As he stood to leave, I blurted out, “Don’t go tonight.”
I saw his back stiffen.
“There’s a guest room,” I added quickly. I had zero intention of crossing any lines with a man who already had a fiancée. I didn’t need her storming into my office, causing a scene. Women don’t get second chances with stuff like this–one scandal, and your whole career is over.
The next morning, the guest room looked untouched–bed perfectly made, not a wrinkle in sight. The apartment was empty except for me.
I was debating what to order for breakfast when the doorbell rang.
There was Bryan, dressed in workout clothes, holding a thermal container. He greeted me like it was the most normal thing in the world. “You drank a lot last night, so I made you some millet porridge. I was out for a run anyway, so I brought it over.”
In that moment, I almost fell for him.
But thankfully, I’m someone who’s been hurt before. I’ve learned not to trust love so easily, and I definitely don’t believe someone like him could ever really fall for me. As I walked Bryan to the door, spotted someone familiar in the distance, standing by the flowerbeds, cigarette in hand.
Chapter 10
