Chapter 2Where the Moon Doesn't Shine

A bitter wind whipped across the platform. I stood at my designated boarding spot, systematically deleting the photos of us from my phone.

Liam had always insisted that an office romance was a fireable offense, so our five-year relationship had remained a secret. I had to beg him just to keep these few photos, and I was forbidden from ever sharing them on social media. He was so careful about maintaining his distance that everyone in the office thought he hated me. Even when he arbitrarily reassigned my project bonus, our colleagues just saw it as business as usual.

Deleting the photos brought back the memory of that day.

Swallowing my rage, I had called him from the hallway. As expected, he declined the call. For five years, he almost never answered my calls during work hours.

A text immediately followed: Busy.

But this wasn't personal. I marched straight to his top-floor office.

Through the glass partition, I saw him leaning over Tina's desk, explaining a proposal. As she leaned in closer, the fringe of her scarf brushed against his neck.

He was brilliant, no doubt about it. He'd been put in charge of the Kingston branch at such a young age and had earned the admiration of the New York headquarters in just a few years.

There was a time when I had longed for his guidance, too.

But he had always brushed me off impatiently. "Figure out the basics yourself, Anna. I'm busy." When I made a mistake and faced disciplinary action, he never intervened. "You'll only learn if you feel the consequences."

Yet here he was, patiently explaining the fundamentals to Tina, who didn't even know how to create a pivot table.

On his desk sat the lunch I prepared for him every single day. To avoid suspicion, I always had one of the cafeteria staff deliver it for me.

"Mr. Song, I skipped breakfast and I'm starving," Tina whined, pointing at my lunchbox. "Can I have your lunch? I'll treat you to a nice dinner later."

"Go ahead," he said, not even looking up from his emails.

Tina happily opened the container and started praising the beef brisket.

Suddenly, arguing with Liam about the bonus seemed utterly pointless.

As I turned to leave, the entire building plunged into darkness. A massive storm had knocked out the power, and the company sent out an emergency notice for everyone to work from home.

Groping my way down the dark staircase, I saw two figures walking side-by-side in the rain.

Liam was holding an umbrella, carefully shielding Tina as he guided her to his car.

I arrived home looking like a drowned rat. A few minutes later, Liam called.

"Anna," he said, "I figured you had an umbrella. You made it home okay?"

In the background, I could hear Tina asking if he wanted extra ginger in his ginger tea.

"I made the tomato beef brisket today," I said, my grip tightening on the phone. "How was it?"

"Hm? Oh, it was fine," he answered distractedly.

After we hung up, I saw Tina's new social media post: a picture of two mugs clinking together in a warmly lit room. The caption read: It feels so good to be someone's favorite.