Chapter 2

As I stepped into the house, I saw traces of the life I lived with Morgan everywhere—the matching slippers, the custom-made pillows on the couch, the photo of me and him on the table… I placed the only photo of us together face down on the table, thinking back to when it was taken. I even begged Morgan to take the photo with me on my birthday last year. He looked as cold as ice in the photo and had even been reluctant to smile. After glancing at the photo, I mechanically began to pack my bags. When I opened the door to Morgan's study, I saw photos of Sestina all over the walls. They were photos from her childhood to university. Morgan and Sestina looked intimate in the images. The pictures depicted them gazing at each other, and there was apparent affection in Morgan's eyes. At that moment, I suddenly recalled that childhood sweetheart he had always refused to speak about. It turned out that Sestina had been in his heart all these years. Why had he accepted my confession and played with my sincerity when someone else already had his heart? I looked at the glass cabinet in the study that held the birthday gifts he had prepared for Sestina every year. He had barely been willing to spare me a smile on my birthday, much less prepare an exquisite gift. He had always marked this study room as off limits and never allowed me to enter it. However, now that the truth was laid bare before me, I simply felt my heart ache. It turned out that throughout the five years he had been in a relationship with me, he had been constantly reminiscing about his past with Sestina in the study. I could not help but feel nauseated at that thought. I rushed out of the study, vehemently cut up that one photo of us together, and threw it into the trash can. Late at night, Morgan stumbled in, reeking of wine, and tossed the plastic bag in his hand at me. His gaze did not carry the slightest hint of guilt. Instead, he looked at me like a rich noble sparing a beggar money and said, "Just let Sestina have the credit for your work this time, Quiana. She's a newcomer who has just returned to the country, so she needs those results to prove herself more than you do." I said nothing. It was my first time seeing his shamelessness with clear eyes, but my heart slowly turned numb. I refused to believe that Morgan was unaware of how many nights I had stayed up working tirelessly on this project and how I had drunk so much with those major clients of ours that I suffered stomach cramps from too much wine. However, he had now come up with reasoning as absurd as that for the sake of his childhood sweetheart. Seeing me remain silent, Morgan softened his attitude for the first time and attempted to persuade me by saying, "Alright. I'll forget everything you said to me out of anger at the restaurant today. I know you've had it tough these past few days, so I went out of my way to buy you the skirt that you wanted. Take it out and have a look. "Also, make sure to get along well with Sestina at the company in the future." He then headed to the bathroom to take a shower. When I opened the bag, I saw that the skirt had obviously been worn before. There were incredibly obvious wine stains on it. As I looked at it, I started laughing. Morgan had likely given Sestina the clothes from the bag after she soiled hers, and now he was trying to console me by handing me her stained white skirt. It all checked out. After all, when had Morgan ever put effort into anything he gave me? In fact, I had always been a dispensable existence to him. As I tossed and turned in bed that night, I heard Morgan call out Sestina's name in his dreams, his voice low and tender. Tears flowed unconsciously down my face, wetting my pillow. I never had a place in his heart. Since that was the case, I would simply treat these five years as a dream that he had woven for me. Now that I had awoken from this dream, I did not want him anymore. Let this relationship end here!