Chapter 2

Aria Chen POV:

The clatter of the busy bistro was a welcome distraction from the buzzing silence of my own thoughts. Hilary looked at me with wide, disbelieving eyes across the small table. I hadn't made it out for dinner with her in months. Donovan always had an excuse.

"You mean to tell me," Hilary began, her voice a low growl, "he left you on your tenth anniversary to go comfort that... student?"

I took a sip of my wine, the bitterness a familiar comfort. "That' s about the gist of it."

Hilary slammed her fork down. "Unbelievable! After everything you' ve done for him! Giving up your incredible tech job, taking that boring admin role just so he could focus on his 'brilliant academic career' !"

She was right. I' d sacrificed everything for his dream. My high-flying career, my ambition, my very identity. I did it because I loved him, because I believed in us. I believed in him. Now, I just felt... foolish.

"I' m going to go over there and give him a piece of my mind!" Hilary declared, pushing her chair back.

I reached across the table, grabbing her arm. "No, you won' t." My voice was calm, almost devoid of emotion.

She stared, puzzled. "Aria, he' s a narcissist! A gaslighting, hypocritical... philanderer! You can' t just let him get away with this!"

"He' s not worth it, Hil," I said, and the truth of it settled deep in my bones. "He' s not worth another tear, another argument, another ounce of my energy."

Hilary' s anger softened into concern. "I still feel responsible. I recommended Brie for that scholarship. I thought I was helping a bright, underprivileged student. I never imagined..."

"It' s not your fault," I interrupted gently. "Donovan would have found someone else. It was never about Brie. It was about him."

She studied my face, her expression unreadable. "You' re different, Aria. Your eyes... they' re clear."

I nodded slowly. "I think so. I think I finally see things for what they really are." The truth was, the love I once felt for Donovan had evaporated. There was nothing left but a cold, empty space.

It was late when I finally got home. The streetlights cast long, eerie shadows. A knot tightened in my stomach. I knew he' d be waiting.

The moment I opened the door, a heavy silence blanketed me. Donovan sat on the sofa, bathed in the glow of his phone screen, his face a mask of grim accusation. The air crackled with unspoken tension.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "I called you a dozen times."

I pulled my phone from my purse. The screen showed a flurry of missed calls and texts from him. I hadn' t even noticed it vibrating in my bag. I hadn' t wanted to.

"My phone was on silent," I replied, my voice steady. "I was with Hilary."

He stood up, towering over me. "Hilary? Really? At this hour? What were you doing, drowning your sorrows?" His eyes narrowed. "Were you drinking?"

I met his gaze head-on. "What if I was?"

He scoffed. "You know how reckless you get when you drink. And who else was there? Was it that colleague who made a fool of himself just last week?"

I felt a surge of cold fury. He was projecting his own guilt onto me. The hypocrisy was suffocating.

"Did you report your whereabouts to me, Donovan?" I shot back, my voice rising slightly. "Did you tell me what you were doing with Brie all night? Or is that privilege reserved only for me?"

He flinched, his face paling. But before he could respond, I brushed past him and headed for the bedroom. I just wanted to escape his toxicity.

As I reached the bed, a sudden movement on the pillow made me jump. A small, furry creature scrambled across the sheets. I gasped, stumbling backward. It was a guinea pig. A very small, very startled guinea pig.

Before I could react, it darted towards me, its tiny claws scratching my leg. A sharp sting, and then a thin line of blood welled up.

Donovan rushed in, his voice laced with panic. "What happened?!" He saw the guinea pig, then my bleeding leg. His eyes widened. He quickly scooped up the creature, cradling it defensively. "Brie' s. She left him here earlier. He must have gotten out of his cage."

Brie. Again. The scratches burned, but the betrayal stung more.

"You let a guinea pig into our apartment?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Donovan, I' m allergic to pet dander. You know that. I had to give away Mittens, my cat, when we moved in here because of your allergies."

He winced. "It' s different. This is a guinea pig, not a cat. And Brie needed someone to look after him. She was really upset."

Upset? What about me? What about my safety? My well-being?

"I guess I need a tetanus shot now," I said, turning away from him.

He put the guinea pig back in its cage, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. "I' ll take you. Right now."

Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then at me, a troubled expression on his face. "It' s Brie again. She' s really distressed."

My chest tightened. He didn' t even have to say it. I already knew his choice.

"Go," I said, my voice flat, devoid of any warmth. "Go comfort her, Donovan. You' re clearly better at that than you are at being a partner."

He hesitated for a second, then grabbed his keys. "I' ll be back as soon as I can, I promise. Just wait here." He looked at me, a desperate plea in his eyes.

I watched him go, the image of his receding back a stark reminder of every other time he' d chosen someone or something else over me. I knew, with a chilling certainty, he wouldn' t be back tonight. He wouldn't care.