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I said no.
She immediately said, "I was just kidding."
Then she cautiously tested the waters, "So, can I move in next door?"
I was noncommittal, but to my surprise, a couple of days later, she really did move into the apartment next to mine, which had been vacant for two years, with all her bags.
In the middle of the night, she knocked on my door, covered in dust, and asked if she could use my bathroom because her gas wasn't turned on yet.
After her shower, she stood there, a tantalizing sight, drying her hair, and said her place was too messy to sleep in, asking if she could sleep on my couch for one night.
She repeatedly assured me she wouldn't do anything.
I was amused by her. She was the girl; shouldn't she be the one worried about me taking advantage of her?
I let her have the bedroom.
The next morning, she woke up early to prepare breakfast.
When I got up, I saw her in an apron, busily working at the kitchen counter.
This was the life I had dreamed of for the past five years.
At that moment, as if possessed, I took out my phone and took a picture of her back.
The next day in the office, looking at the photo, I couldn't help but smile.
A colleague teased me, asking if I was in love, saying I'd been glowing lately, a much more cheerful person.
Had I?
But it was true, I hadn't thought about Zoe in a long time.
…
Living in the same complex as Stella, I would always drive over to pick her up after work.
Today, she called ahead and told me not to bother.
When I pressed her, she finally said that Zoe and Jayce had a fight.
Jayce had mysteriously disappeared for three days, and Zoe was in a bad state. She was going to stay with her for a few days.
Listening to her talk about Zoe, I felt no sadness.
On the contrary, I felt a strange sense of vindication.
I selfishly hoped that Zoe would also get a real taste of what it felt like to have her heart wasted.
Stella didn't come home for three days.
When we finally met, she told me that Zoe was doing much better.
I ruffled her hair. "Silly, I'm not worried about whether she's okay or not."
"I haven't had your cooking in three days, I'm craving it."
I gently changed the subject, and Stella's attention was diverted.
She happily pulled me along to the supermarket to buy ingredients.
I realized I truly didn't care about Zoe anymore. Even knowing she wasn't doing well, I never once thought about her.
That day at dinner, Stella asked me pitifully if I could spend her birthday with her tomorrow.
I looked at the calendar, wanting to remember her birthday, and only then did I realize that Stella's birthday was on the same day as the anniversary of Zoe's mother's death.
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