Chapter 2The Two Projected on the Screen

The accident wasn't severe. After three days of observation, I was discharged. The hospital refunded the overpayment from the insurance back to Adrian’s account. He hadn’t shown his face or even called in three days, but the refund prompted a call.

“You’re already out? You should have told me. I have a client meeting today, I can’t pick you up.”

“Okay,” I said, swallowing the questions that threatened to spill out. His phone’s location tracker showed he was at a hotel. I didn't need to ask what he was “busy” with.

A woman’s voice drifted through the line. “Honey, can you come dry my hair?”

He hung up immediately.

A few moments later, two money transfers appeared on my screen.

One for $1,314. One for $520.

The numbers were a play on words, meaning “forever” and “I love you.” For five years, I had dreamed of receiving these amounts from him, of finally having something to post on social media like all the other girls. He had always refused.

Now that I was letting go, he finally gave me what I’d wanted. I wondered why.

I looked at his new profile picture and clicked “decline” on the transfers.

His avatar was clearly one half of a matching pair. But the other half wasn’t me.

A series of question marks popped up from him. I didn't reply.

The apartment was exactly as I had left it. It seemed he hadn't been back since the night of the concert.

I pushed aside the memories and started to pack. In just half a day, the home I had lovingly decorated for five years began to look empty and hollow. Most of what I packed were matching couple’s items I had bought. But Adrian, with his obsession for secrecy, had refused to wear or use anything that hinted he was in a relationship. I used to joke that he was as cautious as a spy.

I know why now. In his heart, I was never his girlfriend.

I was halfway through when Adrian walked in.

“Kristina, what the hell is this? I called, I texted. Why are you ignoring me?”

I caught the scent of a perfume that wasn't mine and held up a hand to stop him from coming any closer. I glanced at the faint, tell-tale mark on his neck. “I was busy,” I said flatly. “I didn’t see my phone.”

His eyes swept over the half-empty apartment, and his face soured. “Don’t tell me you’re busy tearing the place apart. You just got out of the hospital, you should be resting.”

He pointed to a few boxes of new, untouched items I hadn’t had a chance to throw out yet. “Are you getting rid of all this?”

I bent to pick up a box. He took it from me. “I’ll get it,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance. “Stop buying all this useless junk. Do you have money to burn?”

“Go change. I’m taking you out to dinner.”

It was time to end this.

From the balcony, I watched him toss the boxes of couple’s items into the dumpster without a second thought. Just like our five years together. Worthless.

At the restaurant, he ordered several of our favorite dishes, but he also ordered one I despised: bitter melon with scrambled eggs.

My appetite vanished. I wasn’t going to force myself anymore. “Waiter,” I called out. “Could you please take this dish back? We’ll still pay for it.”

Adrian pulled the dish in front of him. “What, you’re going to be this dramatic just because I didn’t visit you in the hospital? If you had been watching where you were going, you wouldn't have been hit in the first place.”

I had seen him care for me before, so his lack of love now was painfully obvious. The man who had once carried me through the night to the emergency room in a panic when I had a fever couldn't even be bothered to visit me in the hospital after his girlfriend ran me over. The man who knew I hated bitter melon and never let anything bitter cross my plate was now ordering it, just as he had when we first met.

I gave a faint smile. “I hate bitter melon,” I said calmly. “The smell makes me nauseous.”

“So don’t eat it,” he snapped. His impatience was a sharp edge in his voice.

I kept my smile in place. “We should break—”

Before I could finish, a girl appeared at our table.

“Adrian, after all these years, you still remember I love bitter melon!”