Chapter 3Let Him Walk

It was just like last month, when we had planned a movie night. We were standing in front of the theater when Kate called, complaining she was lonely and wanted him to go swimming with her.

He had looked at me with that exact same apologetic, pleading expression. "Jane, let's skip the movie tonight. I'll make it up to you next time, I promise."

In the silent battle between Kate and me, she always won. I hadn't argued back then. After he left, I bought a tub of popcorn and a soda, walking into the dark theater alone for the first time in my life.

That night, I realized two things: going to the movies alone wasn't terrifying at all, and giving up on things that were never truly yours was actually quite easy.

"Sure," I said now, my voice entirely flat. "Do whatever you want."

The tension drained from his shoulders instantly. He let out a relieved sigh. "I knew you'd understand. Kate's such a handful sometimes, always acting like a spoiled brat."

He sounded like he was complaining, but the warmth in his voice betrayed his absolute indulgence.

What he didn't realize was that I wasn't being understanding. I had just stopped caring.

"By the way," Lucas said, pocketing his phone. "Kate said there's a new hot pot place downtown. She wants to buy us dinner."

I opened my mouth to decline, but he held up his hands defensively. "Come on, if we don't go, she threatened to buy the groceries and cook at our place."

I hated the lingering smell of hot pot in our small apartment. More than that, I hated the subtle scent of gardenias that clung to Kate—the exact same scent Lucas had started wearing.

Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in a booth at the crowded restaurant. The waiter walked over to take our order.

"A mild broth—" Lucas started, but I cut him off. "Let's do half spicy, half mild."

He stared at me, surprised. "Since when do you eat spicy food?"

I didn't eat spicy food because he had a sensitive stomach, and over five years, I had adapted my palate to match his. "I've always liked it," I said, looking down at the menu. "You just never noticed."

I checked the boxes for the dishes I actually liked and added a matcha shaved ice for dessert. Seeing this, Kate immediately chirped, "I want a mango shaved ice too!"

Lucas frowned, swatting her menu down. "Are you crazy? Have you forgotten how much pain you were in last month? No cold drinks for you."

He crossed out her shaved ice and replaced it with warm corn juice.

Kate pouted, but a pleased smile played on her lips. "So what if it hurts? Your hands are warmer than any heating pad anyway. Why should I worry when I have you?"

Once, I used to get terrible cramps too. Lucas used to stock up on heating pads and brew hot herbal tea for me. When I writhed in pain, his eyes would turn red with worry. He would press his warm palms against my lower back, his voice trembling as he whispered, I wish I could take the pain for you, sweetheart.

Back then, I had felt exactly like Kate did. As long as he was there, I could handle any pain. But since Kate moved to our city, my nightstand was never restocked with heating pads. There were no more warm mugs waiting for me on the counter.

Sitting across from them, watching them flirt in plain sight, I felt like a ghost haunting their happy little world.

Just then, the waiter returned, placing a large boba tea with two straws in the center of the table. "Compliments of the house," he smiled. "It's our owners' tenth anniversary, so we're giving out free sharing drinks to all the couples tonight."