Chapter 1

The day I was picking out engagement rings with Zoe Halloway, her long-lost old flame suddenly flew back into the country.

When we went to the airport, she introduced me to him.

"He's a friend, Cole Weston…"

Zoe denied that I was her boyfriend and even wanted to cancel our engagement party the next day.

Just when she thought I would cling to her, desperately trying to marry her, I said with a sudden sense of relief…

"Your best friend wanted to fuck me last time. To be honest, I'm kind of into the idea…"

…

Jayce Jensen came back on the day Zoe and I were supposed to choose our rings.

Zoe had picked the date herself.

Last week, on Jayce's birthday, Zoe got herself completely wasted.

She stumbled home in the middle of the night, and the moment she walked in, she mistook me for Jayce, wrapping her arms around my neck and calling me "Jayce."

Over and over, she asked where I had been all these years, why I never contacted her.

In the last five years, this had happened more than once.

Every time, Zoe would never mention it the next day, and I never brought it up either.

But this time, I recorded a video.

Some things, eventually, have to be brought into the open.

The next day, when I showed the video to Zoe, she just glanced at the phone screen, didn't reach for it, and instead took another sip of her milk.

Then she said, with devastating nonchalance, "I thought you were used to it by now."

I turned off the phone and laughed at my own expense.

"I've been with you for five years, and you still can't forget him. Life without him must be agony for you."

"I've thought it through. I'm letting you go. Go find him."

With that, without waiting for her reply, I turned and left for work.

We didn't contact each other for three whole days.

I spent those three nights at my best friend's place, not going home.

What I didn't expect was that Zoe didn't choose to leave. Instead, she came to find me herself.

She said she wanted to marry me, that she had already set a date for us to pick out the rings.

That's Zoe for you. First a slap, then a piece of candy.

Every time we fought over Jayce, she would wake up early to make breakfast, or book a candlelight dinner and wait for me after work.

She'd hold my hand, acting cute, saying how good I was to her, that she was used to me and would surely fall in love with me eventually.

The moment she threw out these sugar-coated bullets, I'd surrender completely.

I'd forget all the previous unhappiness, once again believing that I could warm her heart, even if it were made of stone.

My love was so pathetic.

She had me wrapped around her little finger.

For five years, she'd used this trick to patch up our fractured relationship.

I was a kite, and the string was held firmly in her hands.

They say that love in its extreme form is a sin.

I was destined to lose.

Now, watching her joyfully say she wanted to marry me, I felt none of the usual excitement.

After all, over the past five years, I had meticulously planned several proposals, but she had rejected every single one for various reasons.

Now that I was planning to let go, she was the one asking for marriage.

Looking at her, I asked with an eerie calm, "Zoe, do you really want to get married?"

Zoe came forward and linked her arm with mine, saying seriously, "Cole, I've thought a lot these past three days. I'm already used to you being here. I can't live without you."

I had fantasized about a confession like this countless times over the past five years.

But now, hearing it for real, I felt no sweetness in my heart.

…

I still went to the jewelry store with Zoe.

The moment we walked in, her phone rang.

The instant she saw the caller ID, a wave of panic washed over her, and she froze in her tracks.

When I glanced over, she hastily silenced the screen and then looked at me.

Her expression was dripping with guilt.

I didn't need to guess who it was.

Only a call from the man she'd been waiting for for five years could make the ever-composed Zoe lose her cool like this.

"Go on, answer it," I said, crossing my arms and smiling at her.

She bit her lip and finally rejected the call.

"Just a scam call, not worth answering. Let's go pick our rings."

I didn't bother guessing, because I found I didn't even have the heart to be suspicious anymore.

The salesperson waiting for us pulled out three of the store's bestsellers and launched into her practiced sales pitch.

"I think they're all nice. Zoe, which one do you like?"

I looked at the rings on the counter, asking for her opinion.

But she didn't seem to hear me at all, her eyes cast down.

Her fingers were tapping furiously on her phone screen.

She was clearly texting someone back.

Despite her clumsy attempts to hide it, I still saw the name on the screen: "Jayce."

"Zoe?"

I said her name again, and she finally snapped back to reality.

"Fine, I'll take the one you picked."

But the smile on her lips was forced.

I took in her reaction, and said softly, "I didn't pick one. I was asking which one *you* like."

Zoe froze, her tapping fingers stopping mid-motion.

Suddenly, as if she had made a monumental decision, she looked at me.

"Jayce is back. He's at the airport right now. Can you come with me to pick him up?"