Since it's already the end of the year, the music app I use produces a report on the songs I've listened to in 2025.

The keyword of my report is "resonance".

Over the year, I don't spend much time listening to the songs on this app. My girlfriend, Sienna Fletcher, is the one who's been using my account this whole time.

There's a row beneath the keyword that's written in a tiny font.

"You had listened to this song with someone at 4:00 am on December 1st. It turns out that love can go beyond a night's sleep."

My breath gets hitched in my throat.

December 1st is my birthday. But that night, I had gone to bed at an early hour.

Meanwhile, Sienna had left hurriedly after cutting my birthday cake with me with the excuse that she needed to pull an overnight shift at the company.

For some reason, I tap onto the unfamiliar-looking profile that has been interacting frequently with my account with a trembling finger.

Their keyword of the year is "favor".

My heart skips a beat at the sight. Then, I tap on the details.

"Over the year, you've listened to songs with this user 688 times in the middle of the night. Every time you do, it's a secretive conversation meant for your souls."

The next thing I know, I receive a message from Sienna.

"Babe, I need to work overtime tonight again. You don't have to wait up for me. Just go to bed early."

At the same time, a new post is uploaded on the unfamiliar profile. It features a photo of two hands that are intertwined together.

"I love working overtime with her the most. I want to listen to songs with her forever."

I didn't reply to the message from my girlfriend, Sienna Fletcher. My eyes were locked on the photo.

I knew that car-interior decoration all too well. It was the gift I had given Sienna after her promotion. In the passenger-side glove compartment hung the lucky charm I had personally gotten for her.

I tapped the unfamiliar account's profile and opened its playlist.

The pinned playlist was titled "Belated Love". The description read, "You're the joy I waited for and the only one I'll ever need for the rest of my life."

The playlist was filled with Sienna's favorite post-rock and indie folk songs.

Every single track had a record, showing when they had listened to it together, from 2:00 am to 5:00 am.

Those were the countless nights Sienna used overtime as an excuse not to come home.

A sharp pang of bitterness hit me.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed.

A new message popped up. "Shawn, happy New Year! No matter how far you go, you'll always be the closest person to me."

It was Archie Crosby, the underprivileged young man I had sponsored for four years. I had brought him out of the remote mountains and got him into Sienna's company.

My finger hovered over the reply box. Before I could respond, I received a notification about a new post on social media.

I tapped on it without thinking.

The video was only five seconds long.

Sienna, who was supposed to be stuck at the office for overtime, was standing on the beach.

The wind was howling, and the sparkler in her hand lit up her gentle profile.

In the background, Archie's voice carried a playful tone. "Sienna, make a wish."

Sienna smiled as she blew out the sparks. Her gaze almost melted the camera as she said, "My wish is for every year to be like today, with Archie by my side."

A cold chill ran through me.

With Archie by her side? What about me? Was I just a joke to her?

My gaze drifted, stiff and robotic, back to the photo of the hands clasped inside the car.

I hadn't noticed it before, but now I saw it clearly.

The slender wrist on that hand wore a sports watch. It wasn't expensive, but it looked so familiar.

It was the birthday gift I'd chosen for Archie last month.

I glanced back at the unfamiliar account's ID named "Arienna".

The term was a combination of Archie and Sienna.

So this was it.

The guy I had always treated like a brother had stolen the woman I loved with all my heart.

I suddenly laughed. As I did, my tears splashed onto the screen.

Six months ago, Sienna had complained to me, frowning, "Archie is so clumsy. Can I not take him in?"

I'd comforted her, saying, "He just graduated. Life is a struggle at that age. Be patient with him."

So this was her idea of being patient. From the bed to the floor, she certainly gave him a lot of patience.

I looked at the pot of soup I had spent four hours making for her. It was now covered in a layer of greasy film.

It looked just like us—warm and tender on the surface, but underneath, it was nothing but greasy rot.

I stood, grabbed the pot, and poured everything into the trash.

I wiped away my tears and opened the dashcam viewing app.

It was something Sienna had downloaded on my phone to ease my mind. I trusted her back then, so I never bothered to check it.

The screen loaded, showing the real-time feed.

The interior of the car was dim, but the audio was crystal clear.

"Sienna, this song is so good. How about we make it our song?"

"Sure, you're the boss."

Then came the rustle of clothes, followed by a chorus of nauseating gasps.

I tapped the download button.

Once my tears had dried, only an icy emptiness remained.

At dawn, Sienna came home. She looked exhausted, but there was a glaring red mark on her neck.

In an instant, Archie's music account avatar flashed across my mind. It was a picture of a cute puppy.

It looked docile, innocent, and harmless.

Just like him. He always looked at people shyly, easily stirring up a protective instinct in others.

That was why I'd softened and sponsored him.

Sienna had clearly gotten lost in that facade.

She often complained that I was "too much of a businessman" or "too domineering".

It wasn't until now that I realized what she really needed was someone who could worship her completely.

"Babe, I'm so tired. I didn't sleep all night to work on that proposal," she complained with her eyes closed, waiting for me to hand her the hot towel and cup of warm water, like I always did.

But I didn't move.

"Shawn?" She opened her eyes in confusion when the usual service didn't come.

I looked at her, my voice parched and hollow. "Why do you smell like river water?"

Sienna stiffened for a moment before sitting up and adjusting her hair.

"Oh, the project team went to the riverbank for some fresh air last night. We had supper there."

"Was Archie there too?" I asked.

Her gaze flickered, but she quickly regained her usual confident stance.

"Yeah, he's an intern, so he joined us to learn. Shawn, I'm really glad you introduced him to the company. He's hardworking, and everyone likes him."

She walked over, reaching for my hand.

"By the way, he keeps saying he wants to thank you for sponsoring him."

I pulled my hand away and replied flatly, "I sponsored him to help him get an education, not to have him spend late nights with my girlfriend watching river views."

Sienna's expression darkened. "Shawn Baker, what's that supposed to mean? How could you put it that way? Everything between us is strictly business!"

"Strictly business? Why did you sync your playlists 688 times in the dead of night, then?"

I tossed the printed music report on the coffee table.

The papers scattered, and Sienna's pupils constricted.

After a moment, she sighed, like she was dealing with a petulant child. "All this over that? Shawn, you're being way too sensitive.

"This account is also logged in on the company laptop. Sometimes, when Archie works late, he uses my account to listen to music to stay awake. What's the big deal? He's my intern. Do you want me to log out just for this?"

She looked up at me. Disappointment was heavy in her voice as she continued, "I've been working myself to the bone for our future, and you're here, sitting at home, nitpicking over a few music logs. Shawn, can you be a little more mature?"

Mature?

I curled my lips bitterly.

We had been together for five years. I'd stuck by her through thick and thin, from nothing to where we were now.

Every time I asked for stability and marriage, she'd tell me the company was still growing and that she couldn't give me the best.

I understood, compromised, and spent my best years waiting.

Now she was complaining that I wasn't mature enough and that I couldn't tolerate her crossing boundaries with another man.

I smiled. "You should go take a shower. You stink."

Thinking I had given in, Sienna sighed in relief and headed for the bathroom.

The sound of water from the shower started.

I picked up her phone.

The password was still my birthday, something she thought was a sign of deep affection.

I unlocked it and opened WhatsApp.

The pinned chat wasn't with me, but with a group called "Project Team: File Transfer".

There were only two people in the group—her and Archie.

The chat was unnervingly clean. There were no flirtatious messages, just many files and work reports.

But I knew Sienna too well. She was cautious, yet always craved the rush of danger.

I clicked on the "Annual Music Report" link and shared it in the group chat.

The next second, Archie sent a message. "Sienna, you were so naughty earlier in the car. My lips are swollen now."

I didn't reply. I just deleted the shared link.

When Sienna came out of the shower, she looked refreshed.

"Oh, by the way, the company's having a team-building session this weekend. Archie said he hasn't seen you in a while. You should join us," she casually said while drying her hair.

She never took me to these events before, always citing the boundary between work and personal life.

She probably invited me this time to ease my doubts.

"Sure," I replied.

Sienna paused for a moment, clearly surprised by how easily I agreed, then came over and kissed me on the forehead.

"That's more like it. Don't keep being so suspicious."

The moment her lips touched my skin, my stomach churned. I barely managed to resist pushing her away.

…

On the weekend, when I arrived at the resort, Archie was standing next to Sienna.

He was wearing an off-white knit sweater and casual pants.

That sweater was something I had sent him last month. It cost over 2,000 dollars, which seemed luxurious for an intern.

He'd complained to me on WhatsApp about the cold winter and his lack of warm clothes.

I softened and bought it for him.

Now, he wore the sweater I bought him and stood next to my girlfriend, his grin wide.

"Shawn! It's been so long. I've missed you!"

When Archie saw me, his eyes lit up, and he approached me enthusiastically.

He was wearing the exact same cologne I'd smelled on Sienna when she came home that night. It had a subtle, sweet scent.

He then sized me up and feigned surprise. "Shawn, why'd you dress like that? Sienna doesn't like the old-fashioned look. I've been working with her, so I know her taste now."

His soft words were like a dagger to the chest.

I didn't bother responding. His intentions were so transparent that they were practically screaming.

"Sienna always talks about you, saying you're capable. Even your taste in music matches hers."

Archie's expression froze for a moment. He glanced at Sienna instinctively.

Sienna frowned. "Shawn, stop being passive-aggressive."

When Archie saw that I wasn't responding, he dropped all pretense of subtlety.

He tilted his head, looking innocent as he said, "Shawn, I'm able to wear such nice clothes thanks to your sponsorship. But I also have to thank Sienna. She said this color makes me look fair and young."

He emphasized the word "young", and his gaze was filled with challenge.

My fingers trembled slightly, and a chill spread through me.

Archie was 21 years old. Sure, he was young and cheerful.

But I was only 28 and already successful in my career and in my prime. What did I lack compared to him?

Archie kept going. "By the way, Sienna said she'll make me a permanent employee next month."

Permanent?

He was still in his senior year of college and had only been with the company for two weeks.

I looked at Sienna.

Sienna averted her gaze, looking diffident. "Archie's been doing well. I'm planning to make him permanent next month."

I sneered.

Spending my money on clothes, sleeping with my girlfriend, and now trying to climb the ladder through this connection—Archie's plan was impeccably calculated.