Chapter 2

Preston’s brow furrowed. “Sera, I didn’t do it on purpose. She was white as a sheet. I couldn’t just leave her.”

“Mm.”

That reaction drove him crazy. His voice went flat. “Don’t give me that attitude. If you have something to say, say it.”

I picked up the trash bag. “There’s nothing to say.”

I used to be so afraid he didn’t understand that I’d explain myself over and over. Eventually I learned that if someone doesn’t want to hear it, it doesn’t matter how clearly you say it.

“I’m taking the trash down.”

As I passed him, he reached out to hold me.

I stepped away.

On Saturday, I went apartment hunting.

The broker was a girl in her twenties who gushed the whole way up. “This block’s super close to your office, and the light is amazing.”

I stood out on the balcony.

There was a huge oak tree below. It was September, and its leaves were just starting to turn.

“I’ll take it,” I said.

She clearly hadn’t expected me to decide so fast. “You don’t want to see a few more?”

“No.”

It wasn’t big, just a one-bedroom, but it was enough for one person.

The thought that only I would live there didn’t make me sad. If anything, I felt relieved.

When I got home, Preston was on a video call in the living room.

I didn’t interrupt. I went straight to the bedroom and started packing my things.

After five years, my clothes, books, design sketches, and little souvenirs from trips seemed to be everywhere. But when I actually started packing, it all fit into a handful of boxes.

On the bottom shelf in the study was an old cardboard box.

When I opened it, I froze.

It was full of ticket stubs from our years together: Broadway shows, art exhibitions, and the ticket from the drive-in where he’d first told me he liked me, seven years ago.

We were both broke back then.

After a date, all he could do was walk me two blocks to the subway.

But at the top of the stairs, he wouldn’t let me go. His ears were red for ages before he finally managed to get it out. “Sera, would you think about me? Maybe?”

I teased him. “What’s in it for me if I date you?”

That stumped him. For once, he looked flustered.

I laughed and answered for him. “What’s in it for me is having someone to wait for me at the subway station.”

The next day, he really did wait for me. Two hours outside my office building, holding a hot chocolate that had long since gone cold.

Later, he took over Apex Group, I got busy too, and at some point, picking me up from work just stopped.

I’d always assumed that was what being a grown-up looked like. Until Vanessa joined the company, and I watched Preston pick someone up in the rain again, drive out of his way to drop someone off, answer texts at two in the morning within seconds.

The patience hadn’t disappeared. It had just found someone new.

I put the lid back on the box and returned it to the drawer exactly where I’d found it.

At dinner, Preston asked out of nowhere, “Where’d you go this afternoon?”

“To see an apartment.”

His fork stopped in midair. “Sera, are you still sulking about the launch?”

I suddenly felt tired. “I’m just sick of living here.”

He set his fork down on the edge of the plate with a sharp clink. “Sera, don’t do this. If something’s wrong, say so. Don’t just move out without a word.”

I looked at him and almost laughed.

When I used to speak up, he said I was keeping score. Now that I didn’t want to talk, he was the one demanding answers.

“Preston, do you remember last year, when my feet got torn up?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then it clicked, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It’s one pair of shoes. Her feet were blistered that day, so I picked them up on the way. If it bothers you, I’ll throw them out tomorrow.”

I didn’t look up. “Keep them. That passenger seat is hers from now on.”