Chapter 2The Burner Account: Seven Years of Lust, Zero Years of Lov

The next morning, Wyatt came home.

He seemed to be in an incredible mood, whistling as he unlocked the door.

He brought a box of my favorite artisan donuts from a boutique shop across town.

It was a local legend—high-end, always a long line, no delivery.

"If my girl wants them, I’d climb the highest mountain to get them for her. I’d even bake them myself if I had to."

I let out a small laugh.

I rubbed my temples, telling myself I was being paranoid.

If I suggested Wyatt didn't love me, our friends would be the first to call me crazy.

"Nora, stop it. Wyatt is literally obsessed with you. He can’t breathe without you."

"You guys have been together seven years. Every time you fight, he’s the one crawling back on his knees, begging for a chance to make it right."

"Stop being dramatic. Just say yes to the proposal and get married already."

Our friends weren't wrong. In this relationship, Wyatt was always the pursuer.

But they were wrong about one thing: Wyatt had never actually proposed.

Wyatt used to say:

"Babe, I don't want to give you anything less than perfect. I’ll ask when the business is stable."

I was young then, too. I didn't want to be tied down by a marriage license.

We were in sync—and so we spent seven years in this blurred, entangled mess.

During breakfast, Wyatt stared at his phone, a faint, unconscious smile playing on his lips.

"What are you looking at? You look happy."

The smile vanished instantly.

"Nothing. Just a cat video."

"Let me see."

Wyatt pocketed the phone and suddenly scooped me up into his arms.

"Nothing worth seeing," he rasped into my ear.

"You’re much prettier. Are you full? Because it’s my turn to eat."

Right before he pressed me back into the mattress,

My eyes caught a glimpse of his screen.

A bright red icon. It was a niche social app mostly used by women for aesthetic blogging.

Why would that be on his phone?