Chapter 2

Three years ago, Mark Davis had left Lily Chen for a richer, more influential woman, right before a major international piano competition. Lily had been devastated. She had locked herself away, refusing to eat, refusing to touch the piano keys that were once her entire world.

Ethan, who was just a friend from the conservatory back then, had been the one to coax her out of her shell. He brought her food, day after day, leaving it by her door until she finally opened it.

He sat with her in silence when she didn't want to talk and listened for hours when she finally did. He composed a simple, soothing melody for her, a piece he titled "Lily's Light," and played it until her fingers found their way back to the keyboard.

He had fallen in love with her vulnerability, with the strength he saw hidden beneath her pain. He had vowed to protect her, to make sure no one ever hurt her like that again. He gave up a prestigious scholarship to a music production program overseas to stay by her side, taking on mundane jobs to pay their bills so she could chase her dream of becoming a concert pianist.

He thought his love had healed her. He thought she loved him back.

Now, scrolling through her social media, he saw how wrong he had been. Her feed was a gallery of her and Mark. A picture of them at the studio, his hand on her shoulder. A video of them playing a duet, their bodies swaying in perfect sync. A post from Mark, tagging Lily: Some connections never fade. She hadn't just liked it, she had commented: Never.

It was all there, a public declaration for everyone to see. Everyone except him, the fool who was too busy working to pay for her piano lessons and rent to notice.

He looked at his packed suitcase on the floor. He had started packing it this morning, a small, hopeful part of him still believing she would rush to his side after the funeral, that this was all a misunderstanding. Now, he knew it wasn't. What he had with Lily wasn't love. It was gratitude, maybe. Or convenience. A comfortable habit she had fallen into while waiting for her real life to begin again.

The front door opened, and Lily walked in, humming the melody from her duet with Mark. She stopped when she saw the suitcase.

"What's this? Are you going somewhere?" she asked, her tone casual, as if she were asking about the weather.

"Just packing some things," he said, his voice flat.

She didn't press. She just shrugged, kicked off her heels, and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Her lack of concern was the final confirmation. She didn't care.

Ethan left the apartment and went to a bar to meet his best friend, Chris Adams. The moment Chris saw his face, he knew.

"What did she do now?" Chris asked, his voice already tight with anger.

Ethan told him everything. The phone call. The funeral. Mark. The social media posts. The suitcase. With every word, Chris's face grew darker.

"That's it," Chris said, slamming his fist on the table, making the glasses jump. "I'm going to kill him. And her too."

Chris had never liked Lily. He saw her for what she was from the very beginning: a self-absorbed user who took Ethan's kindness for granted. "Remember when you sold your vintage guitar? The one your dad gave you?" Chris's voice was low, seething. "You sold it to pay for that fancy dress she wanted for the awards ceremony. A dress she wore once. Did you ever tell her you sold it?"

Ethan shook his head. "She was so happy."

"And when you had that fever, so sick you could barely stand? She was at a party with her friends. She didn't even call to check on you. I was the one who took you to the hospital, man." Chris leaned forward, his eyes blazing. "She doesn't love you, Ethan. She loves what you do for her."

Chris stood up abruptly. "I'm going over there. I'm going to knock that pretty-boy Mark's teeth out."

"No," Ethan said, grabbing his friend's arm. "Don't. It's not worth it." His voice was calm, devoid of the fire that burned in Chris. "It's over. I'm done."

Chris looked at him, the anger in his eyes slowly giving way to concern. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm leaving," Ethan said. "For good."

On the way back to the apartment, Ethan stopped at a department store. He walked to the fragrance counter, a place he hadn't visited in years. Lily had always been sensitive to smells. She preferred him to be scent-free, so he had stopped wearing the cologne she'd once gifted him.

He picked up a bottle, a scent that was woody and sharp, with notes of cedar and bergamot. It smelled clean, strong, and completely unlike anything Lily would approve of. It smelled like a new beginning.

He sprayed a little on his wrist. It was a small act of defiance, a quiet declaration of independence. He was no longer a blank canvas for her to project her desires onto. He was taking himself back, one small piece at a time. The first step was to smell like himself again.