Done Being His Second Choice

Halfway through dinner, Blake's phone started buzzing like mad.

It was Bianca calling.

He answered, and within two minutes his face had gone tight. He stood up to leave.

Without thinking, I caught his wrist and lowered my voice. "You can't go right now. Both families are here."

"Bianca's building lost power. She's the only girl in the whole place. She's scared."

Blake shook my hand off, his voice edged with blame. "Can't you be a little more considerate? She needs me right now."

And with that, ignoring the stunned elders around the table, he grabbed his coat and walked straight out of the private room.

The relatives exchanged glances and kept asking where Blake had gone.

My fingers clenched the tablecloth. All I could do was force a calm face and lie. "Something urgent came up at the company. He had to rush over."

The rest of the meal was pure torment, the elders whispering among themselves.

Every word, spoken and unspoken, said the same thing: Blake didn't care about me at all.

My mother sat beside me, her eyes full of ache.

She quietly took my hand and murmured, "Sweetheart, I can see it. He's never once put you first."

"This engagement. You have to think it through."

The box of local specialties I'd prepared specially for Blake sat quietly against the wall.

No one gave it another glance.

Back home, I opened the recruiter's email I'd left sitting for so long.

I clicked to accept the interview for the Northgate offer.

Every obsession that had trapped me in this city needed to end here.

Blake didn't come back until the small hours, reeking of alcohol. The moment he walked in, he was frowning and scolding me.

"You had to stop me today, and Bianca had to sit alone in a dark room, scared out of her mind. Don't you think that's selfish of you?"

"She was already in a bad mood. Couldn't you show me a little more understanding?"

I stood under the light and looked at him, quietly.

Whatever love was left in my heart went out completely.

Another day's work over.

The moment I pushed the door open, my feet froze in the entryway.

There, in the most prominent spot on the top shelf of the shoe cabinet, sat a pair of creamy-white fuzzy slippers.

Size 36. Her size.

Soft, thick, plainly a pricey pair off a department-store display.

Compared to that gray pair I'd worn for years, the toes worn pale.

I'd mentioned wanting a new pair several times, and every time Blake had brushed it off, saying they'd do for a while longer.

I walked to the bathroom.

Most of the counter was taken up by a full set of Bianca's designer skincare.

The order Blake had placed a while back, the one I'd stumbled on.

In three years, he'd never once bought me any skincare on his own.

Back then, I'd naively assumed it was an anniversary gift for me.

The door to the unused guest room stood open, the bed made up with a brand-new, soft bedding set.

The closet was full of Bianca's clothes, even a stuffed toy from her childhood.

The whole place was covered in traces of her.

As if I were the outsider who didn't belong in this home.

Blake happened to walk out of the guest room carrying a glass of warm water, and explained it lightly.

"Bianca's rental had a pipe burst. The walls are all soaked, she can't stay there for now."

"Our place is close to her office, and the spare room's just sitting empty anyway. It's completely normal to let her stay a while. Don't read into it."

"Stay a while?"

My voice shook, my eyes sweeping over everything in the apartment that belonged to Bianca.

"Everything's already set up. You call that staying a while?"

Blake's brow furrowed, his tone thick with impatience, as if I were the one making trouble over nothing.

"They're just a few small things. Do you have to be this petty?"

"A young girl on her own out there, it's hard for her. What's wrong with me looking after her a little more?"