Chapter 2

The sound of the key in the lock startled Ethan from his thoughts. It was just after midnight when Olivia finally came home. She stumbled in, her cheeks flushed and her hair smelling faintly of cheap beer and someone else' s cologne.

"Hey," she slurred slightly, dropping her purse on the floor. "Sorry I' m so late. Professor Jenkins kept us all for a last-minute review session. It was brutal."

Ethan didn' t move from his chair at the dining table. The cold steak and the untouched second place setting sat between them like an accusation. "A review session," he repeated, his voice flat.

"Yeah, you know how he is," Olivia said, kicking off her shoes and not looking at him. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "Oh, you cooked? It looks... it smells great, honey. I' m just not hungry. We all grabbed a bite after."

Ethan watched her, his heart a cold, hard stone in his chest. He was no longer looking at the woman he loved, but at a stranger who wore her face. The ease with which she lied was terrifying. He decided to push, just a little, to see how deep the deception went.

"How was it? The review session," he asked, keeping his tone even.

"Oh, you know. Boring. Just a lot of talk about theoretical frameworks," she said, avoiding his eyes. "Alex was there. He' s so stressed about the upcoming presentation. I was just trying to help him out."

The mention of Alex' s name was so casual, so practiced. As she spoke, her phone, which she had placed on the counter, lit up. The screen was angled toward him. A banner notification appeared at the top. It was from Alex. The message was clear, even from a distance: "Tonight was amazing. Can' t believe you actually came out for my birthday instead of his. You' re the best."

Ethan felt a bitter laugh rise in his throat, but he choked it down. Her phone buzzed again. This time it was a picture message preview, a selfie of her and Alex, the same one Ethan had seen earlier, but this one was sent directly to her. The lie was not just exposed; it was being flaunted.

Olivia, oblivious, finally seemed to remember the occasion. "Oh my god, I almost forgot! Happy birthday, baby!" She walked over and tried to kiss him, but he turned his head, and her lips met his cheek. She pulled back, a flicker of confusion in her eyes.

"I got you something," she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small, neatly wrapped box. She handed it to him with a flourish. "Go on, open it."

His fingers felt numb as he tore away the paper. Inside was a silver watch, sleek and modern. It was a nice watch, an expensive one. But it wasn' t him. He preferred classic, functional designs, leather bands, and simple faces. This watch was flashy, something designed to be noticed. It was a watch Alex Stone would wear. He had seen Alex eyeing a similar one online just last week when Olivia had her laptop open. The realization was sickening. She hadn't bought a gift for him, she had bought a gift she thought Alex would like. It was a thoughtless, careless gesture that screamed where her attention truly was.

"Do you like it?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

Ethan looked from the watch to her face. He saw no guilt, no remorse, only a shallow attempt to fulfill an obligation. He closed the box and placed it on the table next to the cold steak.

"It' s great, Olivia. Thank you," he said, his voice devoid of any emotion. The words felt like ash in his mouth.

She seemed satisfied with his response and yawned. "Okay, well, I' m exhausted. I' m going to bed. We can celebrate properly this weekend, I promise."

He just nodded. He listened as she went into the bedroom and closed the door. He sat there in the silence for a long time, the watch box a cold weight on the table. He stood up, picked up the box, walked over to the kitchen trash, and dropped it in. He heard it land with a dull thud on top of old coffee grounds. Then he went to the nightstand and picked up the silver frame that held their happiest picture, a photo from a vacation two years ago. He opened the back, took the picture out, and put the empty frame back. The past was something he no longer wanted to see.