Chapter 2Spring Snow

Growing up, Ava was the neighborhood tomboy—mischievous, rebellious, but with a fierce sense of justice. She couldn’t stand to see anyone bullied. I was the opposite: quiet, introverted, never quite fitting in with the other kids. They found me boring and always left me out.

Whenever that happened, Ava would plant her hands on her hips, her cheeks puffed out in indignation, and march right up to them. “Fine, don’t play with him! Who needs you anyway?” Then she’d turn to me, clap me on the shoulder, and grin. “Don’t worry. From now on, I’ve got your back. If they mess with you again, you tell me, and I’ll sort them out!”

From that day on, she was my shadow, a little sunbeam warming my lonely world.

When we got to college, I finally confessed my feelings for her, and we fell together as naturally as breathing. Our relationship made her even gentler with me. We shared everything. During our happiest moments, she would talk about the future. “You’d better give me the most spectacular proposal, Liam,” she’d tease. “Otherwise, I’m not marrying you.”

I never forgot those words.

Then, we both joined the student government, and Ethan burst into our lives. He and Ava were in the same major, sharing a world of technical jargon I couldn’t penetrate. At first, she would patiently translate their academic discussions for me. But soon, her patience wore thin. “If you don’t get it, look it up online,” she’d snap. “Or just don’t listen. It’s not your major, it’s useless for you to know.”

She and Ethan became inseparable, talking from morning till night, in person and online. For me, she had only a few perfunctory words. Friends warned me to pay attention, to be wary of their connection. I brushed it off. I believed in privacy, even in a relationship. I trusted that she wouldn't fall for someone else.

Reality slapped me hard across the face.

That night, Ava didn’t leave. She said she was worried about me.

I looked at her for a long time before finally saying, “Do whatever you want.” I went to my room and, just as she was about to follow, I clicked the lock shut.

She stood outside the door, her expression complex. After a moment, she said, “Liam, I’ll be right out here. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be waiting.”

I ignored her. A hot tear fell onto the back of my cold hand, the sensation searing.

Ava, I’m done loving you.

I woke the next morning with a dull ache in my temples. As I left my room, I saw Ava hastily putting on her coat.

“Liam, something urgent came up, I have to go. I’ll text you the restaurant address tonight, we’ll have dinner together.”

She was gone before I could even reply, a blur disappearing before my eyes. I pursed my lips and glanced at the sofa where she’d slept. In her haste, she’d left her phone behind.

I picked it up, intending to get it to her later. Just then, a notification lit up the screen. Ava never used a passcode. The message was from someone named “Monkey.”

It was a photo of Ethan, looking disheveled but smiling gently at the camera from a hospital emergency room.

The caption read: “Don’t rush. Drive safe. I’ll wait for you right here.”