Chapter 2

I didn't go to the apartment Hector had prepared for me. Instead, I went back to the neighborhood where I'd lived before I got married. The moment I stepped in, the familiar, dated atmosphere hit me, and I couldn't help thinking of Hector from back then. I grew up an orphan. For as long as I could remember, there had been an older woman, someone I'd never met, quietly sponsoring me from afar. After she learned that I'd moved into the old apartment complex she'd bought for me and that I'd gotten into college, she cut off contact. That winter, Hector's family happened to move into the unit downstairs. Back then, he'd always come running up to find me. When he found out I liked warm cinnamon rolls, he'd show up every night with a bag still steaming, banging on my metal door. I'd open the door, steam still rising, and there he'd be, grinning like the sun. He'd squeeze past me into my place, hold it up to my lips, and blow on it carefully. "Here. Careful, it's hot." My head would buzz as I leaned in and took a bite straight from his hand. A moment later, it would finally hit him, and his face would turn bright red all at once. Later, I headed north for college, and he went south. Even with half the country between us, every first day of winter, he'd be there with a bag of cinnamon rolls, patiently breaking them apart and blowing on them until they were cool enough for me. Being with him felt natural. We eventually got married. He built a successful business, and we moved into a villa together. But after that, he never brought me a single cinnamon roll in winter again. Sometimes, he'd even tease me, "After all these years, you haven't gotten tired of them?" I believed our love was real back then, but the truth was, feelings could change in an instant. A notification pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked at the photo Nellie had sent. Her bare shoulder was half exposed as she pressed Hector's head against her neck. Her pale fingers dug into his back, her eyes unfocused and hazy. I didn't need to think to know what they were doing. I rushed to the bathroom and dry-heaved for a while. The first thing I did after pulling myself together was block her. Then, my phone pinged again. It was Jerome Lloyd sending a dog emoji wagging its tail. "You there? I miss you." Jerome had been my deskmate in high school. I got into that school thanks to a special program, and at the start, the teachers set up a one-on-one mentorship. I got paired with him. He had sharp features, single eyelids, and a strong jawline. When he glanced my way, it made me shiver, and I'd instinctively shrink back. For a long time, I barely spoke to him. That was until one day during lunch break, when I panicked and climbed out the window to get water. It was my first time climbing, and I fell hard on my butt. A low chuckle came from above. I looked up to see Jerome perched at the window, a sly grin on his face. Embarrassed and annoyed, I found some courage I didn't know I had. "When did you wake up?" "When you were struggling to climb out. I was wondering if you'd fall. Didn't expect you actually would." After saying that, his smile widened. When he turned his head, his shoulders shook with laughter. I froze, suddenly realizing this deskmate wasn't hard to get along with at all. Later, when I asked questions, he'd explain and go above and beyond, even showing up with a stack of practice problems when I stubbornly couldn't figure something out. I was stunned. He said, "Finish these. If you still don't get it, then come to me again." When I felt like he was worn out from teaching me, I'd treat him to a milkshake. That kind of routine lasted until the year our classes were reshuffled. As expected, he moved into the advanced class. Before leaving, he asked for my contact info. After we saved each other's numbers, he didn't look for me at all, until a week ago, he reached out again. "How have you been lately?" That day, I'd just gotten my divorce papers. I was crying so hard my mind was a mess, and without realizing it, I'd tapped the voice call button. He stayed on the line, listening quietly as I cried for half an hour. From my choked-up words, he realized I'd just finalized my divorce. Later, when Nellie came to stir things up again, he messaged me, "Will you marry me?" I could hear the laughter and chatter coming from outside. I glanced at the man a few feet away, legs crossed, wearing a smile that felt strangely unfamiliar. "Okay."