At a family gathering, my fiancée gently wiped her recently returned childhood friend’s mouth with a tissue right in front of me.

“Sorry about that. Clairy had always been this thoughtful.”

I nodded, then turned to her younger sister. I draped my jacket over her shoulders and fed her the shrimp I had just peeled.

“If she was so thoughtful, I could not fall short on courtesy either.”

Claire wiped Ryan’s mouth right in front of me.

Ryan looked me up and down with a hint of provocation in his eyes.

At the family dinner table, the atmosphere tightened into a brief, uneasy stillness.

I kept peeling the shrimp in my hand, as though none of it concerned me.

Ryan spoke first.

“Sorry, everyone. Please do not mind us. Clairy had always been this thoughtful.”

Who asked him. I almost laughed.

Ever since Claire and I got engaged, was I not the one doing all the accommodating. Thoughtful. That word did not suit her at all.

I finally understood when I looked at Ryan’s vaguely familiar features.

Claire tended to him gently, while he leaned in closer on purpose, lifting his gaze to me with open provocation.

I only found it childish and turned to Claire with a faint smile.

“Since she was so thoughtful, I could not fall short on courtesy either.”

I placed the shrimp I had just peeled onto Chloe’s plate, wiped my hands clean, then draped my jacket over her shoulders.

“Do not catch a chill, Chloe.”

My fiancée’s hand remained frozen in midair. The tissue crumpled slightly in her grip.

Ryan arched a brow. His gaze swept between Chloe and me as he put on a playful smile.

“Adrian is quite attentive,” Chloe replied sweetly, wrapping herself in my jacket.

“Claire always said I was clumsy. You are much more considerate.”

Claire’s expression shifted, yet she quickly forced a gentle smile. “Chloe had always been spoiled since she was little. Do not indulge her too much.”

I slowly peeled another shrimp, dipped it in sauce, and brought it to Chloe’s lips. “She is family. It is only right.”

Ryan let out a soft chuckle. “Looks like things really changed while I was abroad.”

He glanced meaningfully at Claire. “You used to hate people touching your things.”

Claire set her cutleries down with a sharp clack.

The engagement ring on her finger caught the light, glinting coldly.

“I will go check on the soup.” Her skirt swayed as she rose to her feet.

Chloe blinked innocently. “Is Claire mad.”

Ryan leaned back, studying me with a sharp gaze.

“Interesting. Is this your way of getting even.”

I wiped my hands and met his eyes.

“You came a long way. Of course we should treat you well.”

From outside the dining room, the clatter of dishes echoed. It sounded louder and heavier than usual.

Chloe leaned in quietly toward my ear. Her warm breath brushed against my neck.

“Adrian, playing with fire can burn you.”

I lowered my gaze. A flicker of cunning flashed across the eyes of the seemingly innocent girl.

So I was not the only actor in this little play.

Ryan suddenly stood up. “I will go help.”

As he passed by me, he lowered his voice. “Do not get too confident. Some habits are bone‑deep.”

Soon, laughter drifted from the kitchen. Chloe’s cool fingertips rested on the back of my hand. “Claire always wanted the best. That included people.”

I turned my hand over and took hold of hers, catching the familiar scent of her perfume. It was the same one Claire used.

I understood.

In this carefully orchestrated performance, everyone had their own hidden agenda.

I looked toward the kitchen, where the glass door reflected the distorted silhouettes of the four of us, like a grotesque, fragmented puzzle.

“Soup is ready.” Claire returned, carrying a clay pot. Her smile was once again flawless.

Ryan followed behind her, holding her favorite floral apron.

I released Chloe’s hand and stepped forward to take the pot.

When our fingers brushed, her ring pressed painfully against my skin.

“Careful, it is hot.” Her voice was gentle, yet her eyes were cold as ice. “I simmered it for four hours.”

Chloe’s heel brushed lightly against my pant leg under the table.

As Ryan pulled out Claire’s chair, his hand rested naturally on her shoulder.

The soup bubbled, reflecting our calculating faces.

“Adrian, I heard you got promoted recently,” Ryan said casually, ladling himself some soup.

“Just a departmental adjustment,” I replied nonchalantly.

At the same time, I noticed Claire deliberately avoided the scallions Ryan disliked when she served him. It was a habit even I did not know.

Chloe suddenly chimed in, “Adrian was being modest. He was the youngest vice president in the company.”

There was an odd note of pride in her voice, like she was showing off something that belonged to her.

Claire’s hands, still holding her fork and spoon, paused for a moment. “Is that so. You never told me.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” I said with a smile, lying smoothly.

In reality, I had only learned about it last week.

At that time, Claire had gone to Hangzhou under the excuse of accompanying her mother to see a doctor.

Later, I saw Ryan’s social‑media post. His location was pinned at West Lake in Hangzhou, and the timestamps matched perfectly.

Ryan gave me a meaningful look. “Mr. Carter, you really were young and accomplished. No wonder Clairy chose you.”

Clairy.

That familiar, intimate name felt like a thorn sinking into my chest.

Claire once told me that only the people closest to her were allowed to call her that.

During our first year together, she would blush and gently correct me every time I used it.

“Things like fate were hard to say.”

I picked up a piece of fish, removed the bones, and placed it onto Chloe’s plate.

“Just like Chloe and I. We clicked right away.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed slightly. That was her silent warning whenever she was displeased.

“That is enough, Adrian.”

She stared at me like she wanted to bore a hole straight through me.

Ryan frowned and reached out to smooth a stray strand of hair behind Claire’s ear, as though he was calming her down.

The gesture was so natural it felt like something repeated countless times before.

“Speaking of which,” Ryan said suddenly, turning to me, “Clairey and I had known each other for twenty‑three years. From the time she was a drooling toddler in split‑crotch pants to now…”

His gaze lingered on Claire.

“I witnessed every stage of her life.”

Chloe suddenly choked, and I quickly handed her a tissue.

The moment my hand touched her chin, she grabbed my wrist. Her grip was shockingly strong.

“Adrian.” Her voice trembled slightly. “I would like to go out on the balcony for some air.”

I knew it was not appropriate for me to go with her. Still, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ryan’s hand resting on Claire’s waist, and she made no attempt to move away. On impulse, I helped Chloe to her feet.

The balcony air was cool at night.

Chloe leaned against my shoulder. Her breath faintly smelled of alcohol.

My body stiffened. I was uncomfortable with her closeness.

“Do you know.” She suddenly spoke. “Claire and Ryan were once engaged.”

The words struck me like a punch.

Claire never mentioned it to me. During our three years together, she always told me I was the first person she had seriously considered marrying.

“When was this.” My voice was unnaturally calm.

“Five years ago.” Chloe tilted her head up at me. The moonlight made her eyes shine strangely bright.

“Before Ryan went abroad. They broke it off because of the long distance, but they stayed in touch ever since.”

My mind flashed to the thick stack of airline envelopes in Claire’s desk drawer. Whenever I asked, she said they were from a cousin studying overseas.

“Why are you telling me this.”

I studied her youthful face. She was only twenty‑two, five years younger than Claire, yet the calculation in her eyes far exceeded her age.

Chloe’s fingers slid up to my tie, lightly tugging it. “It is because I hate seeing you kept in the dark.”

Her voice lowered. “And I also hate seeing my sister have everything she wants.”

That sentence unlocked something in my memory.

Chloe had always accidentally ruined Claire’s lipstick. She also unintentionally wore Claire’s new clothes. Even at our engagement banquet, she slipped and spilled the red wine, ruining the dress Claire had carefully chosen.

“Take me home, please.” Chloe suddenly asked. “I am feeling a bit unwell.”

When I returned to the restaurant to say I would be taking Chloe home, Claire’s expression stiffened for a split second, while Ryan gave a knowing smile.

“Do you need me to come with you?” Claire asked, though she did not move from her seat.

“No, you can keep Mr. Zane company.”

I deliberately emphasized the word Mr. Zane. “He does not often come back to the country.”

Ryan rose to his feet and extended his hand. “Mr. Carter, nice to meet you. Hope we get a chance to talk alone sometime.”

I shook his hand, feeling the pressure in his grip. “Anytime.”

On the way to take Chloe home, she leaned against my shoulder the entire time, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns across my chest.

“Adrian,” Chloe said suddenly, “if my sister does not want you anymore, would you consider me.”

I slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched sharply against the road.

“You are drunk.”

My voice was cold. At the same time, her phone screen lit up. It was a message from Claire:

[Don’t push it too far.]

Chloe giggled and reached for her phone, accidentally opening her photo album.

For a brief second, I saw it. A photo of Ryan and Claire.

They were wearing bathrobes. The background was unmistakably a hotel room.

The timestamp showed last year—on the anniversary of my relationship with Claire, the night she said she was attending a friend’s single party.

“Ah!” Chloe hurriedly locked the screen, but it was already too late.

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.

Suddenly, all the fragments snapped into place. Her overtime. Her girls’ nights. The nights I could not reach her.

“Adrian, are you okay.” Chloe’s voice turned unexpectedly clear.

I took a deep breath. “We are here.”

When I helped her out of the car, Chloe rose on her tiptoes and whispered into my ear, “Claire does not know I saw that photo. And I do not know if you were supposed to see it either. However, if you want to know more, come to my apartment tomorrow at eight.”

She slipped a piece of paper into my hand, then staggered toward the entrance, turning back with a meaningful glance before disappearing inside.

On my way back, my phone rang.

It was Claire.

“Honey, did you get Chloe home safely.” Her voice was as gentle as ever.

“Yes.” I gave a brief reply.

“Ryan just left,” Claire continued. “He said he really admired you.”

I almost laughed. “Is that so.”

“Yes… oh, let us go try on wedding dresses together tomorrow night, okay. You said last time the waist needed adjusting.”

Tomorrow night at eight o’clock. The same time Chloe invited me.

“All right,” I heard myself say. “I am looking forward to it.”

After hanging up, I pulled over and unfolded Chloe’s note.

Besides the address, there was one more line:

[Bring a bottle of wine. I know you have questions.]

In the distance, the city lights shimmered like stars. Each one perhaps hiding a secret no one else knew.