Chapter 2 His Lie

The taillights of the car blurred into glowing halos in the rain, gradually vanishing from sight.

Emily let out a cold snort and turned her face away.

The rain had stopped, but the banquet hall was now empty.

Valets and doormen were checking the surroundings, and cleaners were dragging mops across the floor, leaving streaks of water behind. Gusts of cold wind swept through, rustling dry leaves that skittered to Emily's feet.

She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck. In this desolate night, she wasn't sure if she should be angry at the stranger Aiden-or at Carlos.

Finally, as the clock struck midnight, a familiar car slowly pulled up to the entrance. Carlos stepped out into the rain.

Before he could speak, Emily ran to him through the rain, throwing herself into his arms and clinging to him playfully.

"I was freezing to death out here!"

Carlos gently urged her into the car. Once she was buckled up, he leaned over and ruffled her hair. "I'm so sorry. The rain was too heavy and I missed a turn. Had to go all the way around."

The moment she heard Carlos's warm voice, Emily's anger melted away. Guilt rushed in instead, and she softened her tone. "I was just saying it to vent. How was your day? Did you have a good time?"

Carlos gripped the steering wheel and let out a long sigh. "How could I enjoy it without my girlfriend by my side?"

"I'm sorry," Emily said with a sweet smile, twisting in her seat to look at him. "So who kept you company today?"

Carlos opened his mouth to answer, but Emily cut in quickly, "Was it Joyce?"

"Yeah."

Joyce was Carlos's college roommate. They had stayed close even after graduation.

"He's getting sassier by the day," Emily muttered.

"Huh?" Carlos glanced at her. "What makes you say that?"

"I used to think he was a total straight guy, like zero flair. But now he's even wearing cologne." Emily leaned over and sniffed near Carlos's neck. "A light, special scent. Not bad. Ask him what it is for me next time-I think it'd suit me too."

"Sure," Carlos replied blandly, shifting the topic. "How did the interview go today?"

Back in front of her boyfriend, Emily dropped all pretense. "That guy-seriously! We scheduled the interview and he just flaked. I waited for hours tonight, and he didn't even show his face."

"Don't get mad." Carlos reached out with one hand to ruffle her hair again. "Capitalists are heartless. No use getting worked up."

"Hey," Emily batted his hand away, a little annoyed. "What's with you and ruffling my hair today? So annoying."

-

Back home, Emily didn't even have the strength to shower or remove her makeup. She kicked off her heels and collapsed onto the couch. Her eyes refused to stay open, and her consciousness began to drift.

Just as she was about to fall asleep, she suddenly remembered-she hadn't confirmed if Carlos got home safely.

She jolted up from the couch like a startled fish.

She couldn't find her phone in her coat pocket, nor in her shoulder bag. Frustrated, she dumped out all her belongings, but the phone was nowhere to be found.

Sitting on the sofa, Emily mentally retraced her steps. It couldn't have been stolen-not with how carefully she had held it earlier.

It had to be either at Warner Manor or in Carlos's car.

Her phone was too important-she couldn't relax until she found it. So she grabbed her iPad and tracked it using location services.

Minutes later, the red dot on the map grew clearer. But what confused her was the location,New York City First People's Hospital.

Had it been stolen after all?

Impossible-she remembered getting into Carlos's car with it in hand. She hadn't gone anywhere else.

The only explanation was that she left it in Carlos's car-and now he was at the hospital.

But why would Carlos go to the hospital at this hour?

Sudden illness? An accident?

Emily didn't dare overthink. She jumped up, changed pants, and rushed out the door.

The storm outside still raged. Cars whooshed by on the street. Without her phone, she couldn't call a ride. She waited more than twenty minutes in the cold wind before finally hailing a taxi.

The hospital glowed brightly even in the dead of night. The scent of disinfectant hung heavy in the air, mixed with the chill of rain.

Emily opened the car door, rain slapping her face.

Holding up her umbrella, she wiped her face with one hand and looked around. Immediately, she spotted Carlos's car.

But Carlos wasn't in it. And without her phone, she had no idea how to find him in such a huge hospital.

The rain was now so heavy that even the umbrella couldn't shield her. Her lower abdomen began to ache. Sweat broke out on her back, her steps unsteady as she made her way toward the outpatient building. Her pant legs soaked through, each step more difficult than the last.

Suddenly, she stepped into a puddle and stumbled. She fell sideways-

Thankfully, she landed against a parked car, sparing her from a full-body plunge into the water.

She stood up slowly and glanced at the car logo-then quickly backed away.

A Rolls-Royce with a matching license plate. Trouble. Someone might think she was trying to scam them.

Rubbing her wrist, Emily trudged forward, her umbrella barely holding up.

But just ten meters from the building entrance, she froze.

Even through the downpour, she could clearly see the man walking out-it was Carlos.

And he had his arm around a woman.

That woman was wearing Carlos's jacket.

The same jacket Emily had bought for him.

Her mind spun. She tried to reassure herself.

They were just friends. Carlos was always kind. Maybe he came to visit someone sick. They weren't doing anything inappropriate.

But then the woman hugged Carlos.

And Carlos raised a hand to ruffle her hair, smiling gently.

In that instant, Emily felt the rain pierce her like icy daggers.

The woman looked up at Carlos, tears in her eyes, faces close enough to feel each other's breath.

From Emily's distance, she couldn't hear what was being said-but she could see the woman's lips moving, and Carlos's growing discomfort.

Then, the woman tiptoed-and kissed him.

Emily shut her eyes as if she had seen something filthy.

Carlos, when I open my eyes, you better have pushed her away.

Push her away, and I'll listen to your explanation.

Seconds passed. Emily, frowning tightly, slowly opened her eyes.

The scene became clear.

Carlos hadn't pushed her away.

He was kissing her back.

His long arms gently encircled her waist.

The rain grew heavier, as if trying to wash the city away.

The night sky turned pitch-black, like a movie screen with the lights turned off. Memories flashed before Emily's eyes.

At first, she hadn't liked Carlos.

It was senior year. Her roommates had gushed about a cute junior, and they all ran to the track field to check him out.

Just okay, she thought. Not that impressive.

She forgot about him quickly.

But Carlos had fallen for Emily at first sight.

At twenty, boys love fiercely. He showered her with flowers, confessed publicly, even sang love songs to her at campus events. Bold and passionate.

But Emily wasn't impressed. She refused the gifts and flowers, and walked out during the songs.

Everyone thought Carlos would give up quickly-including Emily.

But he didn't. Even after she graduated and started interning at a news agency, he still pursued her.

Her life then was exhausting-pitching stories, chasing leads, rushing between interviews on Wall Street, writing articles deep into the night, all for a meager intern's pay while reporting on billion-dollar deals.

She struggled to adjust to adult life, and during that bleak period, Carlos became the only light in her life.

She still remembered the night she agreed to be his girlfriend-it was over the phone. Carlos had been so excited, he immediately took a taxi just to see her and give her a proper hug.

Her friends never understood. "Carlos has nothing going for him," they'd say. "Average background, no career prospects. You could do better."

But Emily had replied, "He's so genuine. That's a rare quality."

So why did things change so quickly?

Her gaze returned to the hospital steps.

A few nurses walked out, saw the embracing couple, and smiled in admiration.

What a perfect match.

The gentle understanding-real.

The detachment-real.

The hair-ruffling habit-also real.

Only "Joyce" was a lie.

Even that faint perfume might have belonged to the woman.

Emily felt like a joke-running through the storm in the dead of night to see this.

Logic told her she wasn't a stranger to the situation. She had every right to step up and claim what was hers.

But her feet wouldn't move.

And her pride wouldn't allow her to cause a scene in a place like this.

After a long, silent moment, Emily touched her face.

Her hand came away wet from rain-maybe with tears, too.

She walked to Carlos's car, took off the silver bracelet he had given her, and carefully hooked it onto the door handle. Then she turned and walked into the storm.

The pouring rain battered the delicate silver chain until it trembled in the wind, still reflecting a cold, sharp gleam.

Just like Emily's expressive eyes, silently saying:

I saw everything.