The night before our engagement party, I found a crumpled business card in Aiden’s suit pocket. It was from some downtown lounge. The woman smiling sweetly from the card… was none other than his first love. The girl he always said he regretted losing. When I placed the card on the table in front of him, he casually tossed a receipt into the trash, barely glancing at it. “It was after a team dinner last night. My colleagues dragged me there. I stayed for ten minutes, tops.” When I didn't say anything, he reached out and pulled me into his arms, his tone softening just a fraction. “You’ve always wanted to get married, haven’t you? Just be a good girl, and I’ll give you that next year.” I had to laugh. Aiden. As the heiress to the Hawthorne Corporation, I have a line of suitors stretching from Paris to the Upper East Side. I don't need you. 1 He saw me standing there, silent. A smirk pulled at his lips, a cold glint in his eyes. He reached up and patted my cheek. “Struck dumb? Huh?” I brushed his hand away. A few seconds passed before I spoke. “I sent the engagement photos to my family group chat. They…” They weren't exactly thrilled. “So you sent them.” Aiden cut me off without even looking up. He was always like this. Anything that mattered to me, anything about my family—he never bothered to listen to the whole story. He grabbed his car keys and headed for the door, completely ignoring the remedy I’d brewed for his hangover sitting on the coffee table. “Have to deal with something at the office.” “Oh,” I said. I didn't chase after him, asking when he'd be back, not like I usually did. He paused at the door, slipping on his shoes, and glanced back at me over his shoulder. I was wiping my cheek where he’d touched it, scrubbing with a wet wipe until my skin was raw and red. The door slammed shut with a deafening crack, the force of it knocking our framed photo on the wall askew. A dull ache settled in my chest, but strangely, not a single tear fell. The sky had just turned a deep, bruised purple. I looked in the mirror, at the faint shimmer left over from my makeup trial and the cocktail dress he’d dismissed with a lazy “it’s fine.” Why should I let this night go to waste? I shot a text to my best friend, Maya, asking if she was up for our favorite rooftop bar. I was barely halfway through a glass of whiskey when she leaned in close. “Did you hear? Kate got back yesterday!” I’d seen that name so many times. Kate. Aiden’s first love, a secret he’d guarded for seven years. The person he would sneak off to see, even if it meant lying to me. So many of our fights, so many shattered dishes, had been because of her. She didn’t even have to be in the room. The mere mention of “first love” was enough to burn me. Aiden claimed matching tattoos were tacky. But the elegant Arabic script on the back of his neck was Kate’s birthday. Aiden scoffed at celebrating New Year’s Eve, calling it pointless. But the combination to his safe was the date Kate moved abroad. Every single upscale Italian restaurant he took me to? They were the same ones he used to take Kate to. He’d praise my cooking, telling me the soup was perfectly seasoned. Then I’d overhear him telling his friends, “It’s not as good as the one Kate’s housekeeper used to make.” He hated when I was “nosy” or “overbearing.” But tucked away in a hidden flap of his wallet was a faded photograph—of him, drenched in rain, holding an umbrella over Kate, expecting nothing in return. I pieced together their past from the details he tried so desperately to hide. I’d drive myself crazy wondering if I wasn’t pretty enough, if my family wasn’t powerful enough. Wondering why he treated me with such casual disregard. Across the table, Maya chewed on her straw, her eyes fixed on me. “The same night you found that card, someone saw him picking her up from the airport. They sat in his car for over forty minutes.” “My Josh was trying to keep it from me… he was afraid you’d have a meltdown before the wedding…” Maya’s fiancé, Josh, was Aiden’s best friend. They’d known each other since they were in diapers. “Annie, are you really going through with this? Is he worth it?” “I told you from the start he had someone else on his mind! You’re a Hawthorne, for God’s sake! What have you ever lacked in your life that you have to take this crap from him?” I tilted my head back and swallowed a mouthful of whiskey, the fiery liquid searing my throat. “Why else? I just hate to lose.” But this time, I had to admit defeat. I was learning that truly letting go doesn’t require a dramatic, soul-tearing scene. 2 Later that night, Josh came to pick up a very drunk Maya. “Babe, are you sure you’re okay? I can call your driver…” I just waved her off, a wave of nausea churning in my stomach. I used to watch them, so sickeningly sweet together, and then look at Aiden and me. We were like a business merger. Why? It was simple. He just didn't care that much. Aiden himself had told me he hated how I always tried to manage things, that he found me clingy. And yet, he still set a date for our engagement. And like a fool, I thought that meant I was special. Turns out, he was just shopping for a trophy wife. I don’t know how long I’d been crouched there when a familiar, grating voice cut through the haze. I squinted, looking towards the neon glow of the bar’s sign. Aiden had his arm around a woman in a slinky slip dress and a thin cardigan, his touch impossibly gentle. “Kate, wait here, okay? I’ll get the car.” I stayed hidden by the manicured shrubs, my body curled into a tight ball. I watched him help her onto a bench, watched him pull out his phone to make a call. A second later, my own phone buzzed to life. His head snapped in my direction, his eyes unreadable in the dark. He waited, a full minute ticking by. I didn't stumble towards him and throw my arms around him like I usually did when I was drunk. It was he who broke the silence, his brow furrowed in irritation. “Annelise!” He strode over, looming above me. I could see the tight line of his jaw, as if someone had deeply pissed him off. “Don’t you have anything to say?” I paused, then shook my head. “Get up.” He grabbed my arm, his face a frozen mask, and began pulling me toward his car. He didn't ask a single question. Not why I was here, slumped on the pavement, drowning myself in alcohol. And I didn’t ask who the woman by his side was. The silence in the car was suffocating, a heavy weight on my chest. From the rearview mirror, Kate glanced at me. Her cheeks were flushed in a perfectly demure, picturesque state of drunkenness. “Aiden, I think I’m going to be sick,” she murmured. He cracked the sunroof, his voice softer and more tender than I had ever heard it. “You can’t hold your liquor, but you still act tough.” Kate let out a soft, breathy laugh, her words laced with flirtation. “But I was so happy today. What’s wrong with a few extra drinks?” “So many years, and you still love to boss me around.” They had been high school sweethearts. A seven-year history separated by graduation and distance. The first time the sight of her name felt like a physical sting was when I found her old selfies still saved in Aiden’s phone. “Just a cache-clearing error,” he’d said. I’d wanted to believe him. Everyone has a past, right? How could a seven-year-old high school romance still have a hold on the man who was about to become my fiancé? Back then, I was still confident. I was sure I was better than her. But the moment I started comparing myself to her, I had already lost. They chatted endlessly about the old days, their voices a low murmur in the front seat, while I sat in the back, completely invisible. Wind whipped through the car, blurring the familiar city lights as they rushed by. We passed the French bistro where we’d had our first date. The lights were still on. I remember my card being declined when the bill came. I was fumbling through my purse, flustered, when he gently pressed my hand down and paid. He must have thought I was shy, because he secretly laced his fingers through mine and held my hand the entire way home. My heart had hammered against my ribs. I thought, this is him. This is the one. My dizzy mind kept drifting back to the time before our engagement. When I was most in love with Aiden, I used to fantasize about what it would have been like if I’d met him years earlier. Later, when he was at his coldest, I’d find myself wishing we had never met at all. And now? Now, I felt nothing. When I blinked my eyes open, the car was parked in front of the villa. Kate was gone. Aiden’s arm was draped over the steering wheel, the cherry of his cigarette glowing in the darkness. “Annelise,” he said, his voice low. “Are you done with your little tantrum?” I sat up, confused. “I was with you picking out rings just this afternoon. Who was tonight’s performance for?” His voice was tight with suppressed anger. I had no idea what he was so mad about. The only thing I could think of was that I had interrupted his reunion with his long-lost love. “I didn’t ask you to come and get me.” He let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Oh? Then who were you putting on that pathetic, drunken show for?” “I wasn’t drunk.” My voice was quiet. “And even if you hadn’t shown up, there are plenty of people who would have been thrilled to take me home.” 3 Aiden’s eyes narrowed, his words dripping with venom. “Who? Some rich idiot you picked up at the bar?” He scanned me from head to toe, his gaze making me feel like garbage. “Annelise, use your head for once. Dressed like that, out on your own… what do you think a guy like that wants from you?” “If I hadn't shown up, you’d have been somebody’s easy prey by now.” “If you want my attention, can’t you at least try a method with a little more class?” There was a time I’d drunk myself into the hospital, just hoping he’d show up and yell at me. Now I understood. That was just me, indulging in my own pathetic fantasy. “Aiden, you’re being overly dramatic.” He didn’t believe a word of it, his expression dark and stormy. “There’s nothing I hate more than a woman who causes a scene when she’s drunk. I don’t have time to clean up your messes.” Maybe it was the alcohol numbing my nerves, or maybe I truly didn’t care anymore. “Try this stunt again, and even if you have Josh call me, I’ll block you instantly.” “Fine.” I turned and walked away, my heels clicking on the pavement as I headed for the elevator alone. The next day, I woke up around noon with a splitting hangover. My phone was flooded with unread messages. But not a single one from Aiden. He was never one for texting, but I always found myself instinctively checking for his name first. Eventually, I just set his notifications to silent. To stop myself from being an idiot. Maya sent me a screenshot. It was a post from Kate, uploaded in the dead of night. A blurry photo of the city skyline. No caption. But there, among the likes, was Aiden—who never liked anything—with an instant reaction. And a comment: It gets cold at night. Dress warm. Suddenly, my doorbell began to ring, loud and insistent. I opened it to find Aiden standing there. For a second, I thought I was hallucinating. “What are you doing here?” My surprise must have been too obvious. Aiden’s lips twitched into a semblance of a smile as he poked my shoulder with his finger. “Here. Brought you something.” I stared at the bag in his hand—hangover medication—and said nothing. This was his pattern. A slap, followed by a piece of candy. But I was too tired to analyze it anymore. I took the bag and said, “Thanks.” “That’s it?” Aiden leaned against the doorframe, the faint warmth in his eyes vanishing in an instant. “Is there something else?” I asked. As if hell had frozen over, he actually offered an explanation. “I picked her up yesterday because I’m the only person she really knows here.” He stared at my face, his gaze so intense it felt like he was trying to bore a hole through me. “Annie, Kate and I are ancient history. We’re just old classmates now, that’s all.” “Don’t go looking for trouble where there isn’t any.” “I booked a table at that French place. I’ll make it up to you.” I shook my head. “You don’t have to. It’s over.” “Besides, I already have plans today.” Aiden was visibly stunned. He probably never imagined I would refuse him. His face instantly turned to ice. “Suit yourself.” But what were the chances? The French restaurant he had booked was the same one where I had plans. Beside him, Kate batted her eyelashes, her voice cloying and sweet. “Aiden, why is your fiancée having dinner with another man?” My eyes met Aiden’s for a fleeting second before I looked away. He glanced at the man in the bespoke suit sitting across from me, his expression a perfect mask of indifference. “What’s it to me?” Kate giggled, her tone laced with meaning. “Not jealous at all?” “I remember back in school, you cornered a guy in the bathroom just for picking up my pencil.” “I used to say you were the reincarnation of the green-eyed monster. You even threw my notebook, remember?” You only get jealous when you care. Aiden could probably watch me sleep with another man and not even blink. His ocean had never stirred with a single wave for me. Then, at four in the morning, a notification popped up from our perpetually silent chat. [?] [Is that guy really your new flame?] [Did you seriously pick him up in a bar?] [Annie, you’ve grown bold.]
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