A long silence hung on the other end of the line. Then came Dad's sigh.

"Willow, did you and Malcolm have another fight? I never planned to give those projects to Gray Corporation in the first place. You were the one who knelt outside my study for three days, begging me. You can't keep acting on impulse and treat the company's future like a game, darling."

I sat on the stairs, my fingers brushing against the bruises on my knees. When I pressed down, a sharp pain shot through them.

"Dad, I mean it this time. I'll report to the international branch next week. I promise I won't be so petulant anymore, Dad."

Even Dad knew Malcolm was the person I treasured most in the world. How could my best friend not have known?

That night, the moment I got home, my phone rang again. It was the same number, and the same little girl's soft voice came through the speaker.

"Miss, why haven't you accepted my friend request?"

A mix of resentment and anger twisted together in my chest. I wanted to understand exactly where things had gone south. So, I accepted her friend request. It helped a lot that she was talkative.

I stared at the cute stickers on the screen, hesitating before asking, "Nina, do you know how your daddy and mommy got together?"

She sent me a long voice message, her voice bubbling with pride.

"Of course! I know their whole love story! Every night, when Daddy tucks me into bed, he tells me about how he and Mommy fell in love."

I sat there in a daze, staring at the photo frame on the coffee table. Inside was the first picture Malcolm and I had ever taken together.

I had pursued him for three years, from high school all the way through college. At our high school graduation ceremony, Summer had teased me relentlessly and pushed me toward Malcolm. She winked at me, signaling me to move closer so we could take a picture together.

Malcolm had refused at first. When I accidentally brushed against him, he had even discreetly dusted off the spot where I'd touched him.

Annoyed, Summer dragged me over to him, insisting that he take a picture with the two of us. I thought he would reject us again, but this time, he agreed.

Later, Summer sent me the photo and had cropped herself out of it on purpose. I was so happy I couldn't sleep that night. I set the photo as my lock screen wallpaper and kept it there for four years.

"Nina, I'd love to hear that story," I said. "Can you tell me, please?"

"Of course!" Nina chirped. "Daddy said that he fell in love with Mommy at first sight at their high school graduation ceremony. They took a picture together that day, and it's still hanging above their bed."

She then took a picture and sent it to me. When I opened the image, it was none other than our graduation photo. Except this time, the person standing in the middle—me—had been edited out.

Beside it hung a vintage-style wedding portrait of Summer and Malcolm.

A couple of days ago, I'd brought up wedding photo ideas with Malcolm and mentioned I liked them retro. Without even looking up or glancing at the pictures I'd shown him, he'd shaken his head.

"Nah," he said. "It looks too outdated and feels kind of creepy. Let's go with something else."

This past year, I'd suggested more than 100 different wedding photo ideas, and he'd rejected every single one. It turned out the issue was never about the style. It was the bride.

Nina kept talking excitedly. She told me how much effort Malcolm had put into pursuing Summer. From their high school graduation to their college graduation, their story sounded like something out of a fairy tale.

Meanwhile, I felt more like the unwanted third wheel in this relationship.

A sour wave churned in my stomach. The nausea was so overwhelming that I almost threw up.

In my distraction, my phone slipped onto the carpet. When I reached down to pick it up, I accidentally turned on the video call function.

The moment Nina saw my face, she stopped talking and froze. She looked scared, even.

I positioned my phone straight and asked softly, "What's the matter, Nina?"

She seemingly sighed in relief and said, "Oh, it's you, Ms. Rosewood. You actually look quite pretty when you're not acting crazy."

Something inside me died a little.

"What did you just say?" I asked.

Nina scratched her head, looking a little confused. "Every time I saw you, you were always acting crazy. It was really scary. You'd grab Daddy and say you were going to kill him—something about paying with his life for your daddy's death.

"Mommy also told me to stay away from you because she was afraid you'd hurt me."

A chill ran down my spine. I bit my lip hard.

What had Malcolm done to Dad during those years that prompted me to be so vengeful?

"Nina, I was just playing a game with your daddy," I said, trying to reassure her.

I suppressed the gnawing pain in my chest, desperately trying to figure out what had happened. Then, Malcolm's voice suddenly came from behind me.

"Willow, who are you talking to?"

I couldn't let him and Nina see each other, so I hurriedly ended the call.

When I didn't answer him, he assumed I was still mad at him. So, he placed a jar of acacia honey beside me.

"I flew all the way to Southlake to get this for you," he said. "Don't be mad anymore, okay? I heard it's good for your skin."

I stared at the jar of honey, but ironically, all I tasted was bitterness.

At the hospital earlier that day, Summer had held ten jars of that same honey in her arms, looking both surprised and delighted. "Malcolm, I only mentioned it once. You actually flew all the way there to buy these for me?"

I'd stood outside the door and seen everything.

Compared to hers, the jar I got was so pitifully tiny that it looked more like a sample instead.

Malcolm and I had been dating for four years. He had the capacity to remember Summer's passing comment, yet failed to remember I was allergic to honey.

My eyes stung. I grabbed that jar of acacia honey and tossed it into the trash. "Let's break up, Malcolm."

He was in the middle of removing his suit when he froze at my words. Irritation settled over his face.

"Can you stop being so unreasonable for once?" he said. "There are already enough problems at the company. I don't have the time to spend guessing why you're upset again. Why can't you just be more like Summer? At least she's straightforward and speaks her mind."

People often revealed what they truly thought when they were angry.

Even Malcolm seemed startled by what he had said. He subconsciously clicked his tongue and let out a sigh.

This was the first time I'd heard him praise Summer. Before this, they had always been at odds. To their credit, I had never once suspected anything, not even the tiny details that would've raised eyebrows.

When Malcolm calmed down, he crouched before me and gently stroked my hair. "Alright, Willow. Let's not fight again. I'll apologize for whatever I did, okay? Once I secure the project next week, I'll take you on a vacation."

He wasn't apologizing because he was sorry. He was only afraid the project would slip away from his grasp.

Regardless, I moved into the spare bedroom. I packed up all my luggage and prepared to report to the international branch next week.

That night, my stomach pain struck again. Out of habit, I endured it silently. I didn't even bother putting on my slippers and walked to the living room to pour myself some water. Then I swallowed some painkillers.

My stomach problems had been around for years. Back when Malcolm had just started his company, he was constantly out drinking and entertaining clients. Every night, he would come home wasted.

I felt sorry for him, so I went with him to those gatherings and drank on his behalf. After a while, I ended up with a stomach condition.

There was one night when the pain was so excruciating that I couldn't even get out of bed. I asked Malcolm to bring me my medicine, but he didn't even open his eyes and said, "Just bear with it. I have work tomorrow. I need my sleep."

I broke out in a cold sweat from the pain and forced myself to endure the entire night. By the next morning, when I was rushed to the emergency room, I had already passed out from the pain.

The living room was dimly lit. I glanced toward the entrance and saw Malcolm's slippers tossed messily by the door, as though he had left in a hurry.

When I returned to the bedroom, I couldn't fall asleep, so I scrolled on my phone. That was when I saw Summer's latest social media post.

It was a photo showing a table full of food from all across the country, captioned, "Got hungry in the middle of the night. Thankfully, someone kind brought me food. What a wonderful night."

I buried my face in my knees and let out a bitter laugh.

If he wanted to, he would. In my case, I simply wasn't worth his effort.

After packing all my belongings and sending them away, I felt completely drained and collapsed onto the couch. I sent Nina several messages, but she didn't reply to any of them.

It wasn't until the afternoon that she video-called me again. I didn't think twice before answering.

Her background was oddly familiar this time. It was where I had grown up. More specifically, it was Dad's office.

Mom had passed away when I was young, and Dad had never remarried. He raised me all by himself. Afraid I would feel lonely staying home alone, he often brought me to the office with him.

"Nina, what are you doing at Rosewood Group?" I asked.

She looked around the room, confused. "Huh? This is Daddy's office. And the company is now Daddy's, too. Rosewood Group doesn't exist anymore."

It felt like a knife had been driven into my heart. A wave of bitterness washed over me.

"Nina, you're such a smart girl," I said. "I bet you know what happened to that company, don't you?"

Unable to resist the praise, she immediately explained, "Of course. Daddy told me everything. That old man from Rosewood Group gave all the projects to Daddy. Later, that old man did something bad and got arrested. Not long after that, he died in prison."

Impossible. Dad was an upright man. He would never sacrifice his integrity for money, much less break the law.

My voice trembled. "Then what?"

"Then, this company became Daddy's!" she replied cheerfully. "Did you forget? You used to come downstairs all the time and play games with Daddy, saying he had to pay with his life."

I blinked. Tears fell onto my screen.

Dad had never thought highly of Malcolm. More than once, he had told me Malcolm was too calculating and duplicitous. He had even took drastic measures and locked me in my room to prevent me from seeing Malcolm.

For Malcolm's sake, I'd jumped from the third-floor balcony without hesitation. The fall tore my calf, and in the end, Dad had no choice but to give in.

I never imagined that choosing the wrong man would cost Dad his life.

Crying, I went back home.

Dad was about to have dinner. Several dishes were laid out on the table, but he sat there alone. Seeing him like that brought me to tears. When I walked closer, I realized they were all my favorite dishes.

My chest tightened, and my throat burned as I tried to hold back my sobs.

When Dad saw me, his face lit up. "Darling, you're home! Amanda, prepare a few more dishes that she likes!"

I sat down and looked at the spread before me. The guilt inside me was eating me alive.

As I picked up my fork, I asked Dad with a pained voice, "Dad, why don't you have food that you like instead? I thought you hated sweet dishes."

He rubbed his hands awkwardly, a simple yet hopeful smile on his face. "Well, I was just secretly hoping you'd come home for dinner someday. I just didn't know when that'd happen. So, I make your favorite food every day. That way, when you do come home, you'll have something you love to eat."

I lowered my head over my ivory plate. Large drops of tears fell onto the food.

Everything tasted both salty and bitter. Little did I know, Dad had been waiting for me every day all this time.

"Dad, I'll listen to you from now on," I said. "I'll never be stubborn again."

Dad looked at me with heartache in his eyes. He kept placing food on my plate until it was piled high.

Throughout dinner, I repeatedly warned him to be careful around Malcolm. Afterward, I went back to my house to collect my documents, preparing to fly the next day.

When I arrived at the door, I saw movers carrying things inside.

Summer ran over to me. "Willow, I missed you so much!"

Behind her, Malcolm instinctively reached out to steady her as if he were afraid she would fall. When he met my eyes, he awkwardly withdrew his hands.

"I was just worried she'd bump into you," he explained. "You know how careless she can be."

Summer laughed and lightly punched him. Then she linked her arm through mine. "Guess what, Willow? I'm moving in with you! That way, if he ever gives you a hard time again, I can beat him up! Together, we'll put him in his place!"

Malcolm stood to the side, smiling affectionately. "Are you sure you'd be the one beating me up? You should be careful, or you'll end up in the hospital again."

As usual, they started bickering. This time, I didn't try to stop them. Watching them laugh and argue together killed something inside me.

I pulled my hand away, went into the bedroom, grabbed my documents, and walked back to the door. My voice was calm when I said, "That won't be necessary. You two can have this place to yourself."

With that, I turned and walked away.

Summer quickly grabbed my wrist. "Don't go, Willow. Are you still mad? Okay. I won't move in. I don't want things to turn out this way."

I was about to pull away when Malcolm shoved me aside. He led Summer inside and said impatiently, "Ignore her. She's always throwing a fit over nothing. Willow, if you're leaving, then don't come back."

With that, he slammed the door shut, killing the last trace of love I had for him.

Of course, I wasn't coming back. I would be starting a new job in a different country tomorrow.

Too bad for me, I wouldn't be able to see how Malcolm made a fool of himself after losing the project at the bid meeting tomorrow.