Chapter 3

I did not say anything. I only lowered my head and stared at the tips of my shoes.

Chloe walked over from the side. Her eyes were still red, and guilt weighed down her voice. "Ivy... I'm really sorry. I don't even know what came over me."

She bit her lip, as if forcing herself to be brave. "How about I go call everyone back? We'll keep the wedding going. I swear I won't cause trouble again. Believe me!"

Her face looked sincere, her gaze earnest, as if the person who had just threatened to die had not been her at all.

Luke frowned, his tone sharp. "Chloe, this has to stop. You know that, right? Not everyone is as easy to talk to as Ivy. You've put both of us in an impossible position."

Then he turned to me, his eyes softening a little. "You've wronged Ivy this badly, and you're not going to apologize?"

Chloe lowered her head pitifully. Her voice was as thin as a mosquito's buzz. "Ivy... I'm sorry..."

After that perfunctory apology, she lifted her head again and looked at Luke timidly. "Luke, do you remember that Broadway tour you promised you'd take me to? I finally got tickets. Can we... go tonight?"

She paused and flicked a cautious glance at me. "I mean, if Ivy doesn't mind..."

Watching her act so small and meek, I saw pity and tenderness rise in Luke's expression.

He hesitated, then asked me carefully, "Ivy, why don't we go together?"

Chloe looked like she wanted to say something, then stopped. "Luke... I only got two tickets. Maybe you and Ivy should go. I'll stay home."

She lowered her head. Her voice caught as if she might cry. "Just... take it as me making it up to you. Today was all my fault..."

When she finished, Luke was trapped.

His brows pulled tighter, his eyes full of struggle.

I watched him, and all at once it felt almost ridiculous.

Back then, when I asked him to go to a Broadway show with me, he always said he was not interested, that it was a waste of time. Now he could hesitate for Chloe.

"You two go," I said evenly. "I'm tired. I want to go home and rest."

I turned and walked away.

Luke came after me, his voice tight. "Ivy!"

I stopped, but I did not turn around.

He stood behind me, breathing a little fast. "At least let me drive you home."

"No." I started walking again, heading for the exit.

In North Carolina, early spring still carried a chill. Cold rain began to drift down, fine and scattered, stinging my face like ice.

Behind me, Chloe's voice floated over. "Luke, the theater's in Raleigh. We'll take your pickup, right?"

I looked back.

Luke's Ford F-150 was parked at the club entrance. I had bought it for him as a birthday gift during our first year together, when we had finally made things official.

A white satin wedding bow was still tied to the front.

Now that strip of white made my eyes ache.

Chloe stood beside him, bright with expectation.

Luke looked at me, then at her, and finally murmured, "Ivy, your apartment is pretty close. Maybe I can just—"

"Go ahead and drive," I cut him off, my voice so calm it did not sound like mine. "I'll walk back."

"It's not that far anyway."

Then I turned and stepped into the rain.

Behind me, the pickup's engine started. Chloe let out a sweet, delighted laugh.

I did not look back.

I had not gone more than a few steps when Luke suddenly ran up and grabbed my hand.

"Ivy, your hands are freezing." He frowned, quickly pulling off his gloves and sliding them onto my hands like I had no say in it. Then he leaned close to my ear, his voice lowered. "Go home and get some rest, okay? Don't overthink it. We'll rearrange everything soon."

His breath brushed my ear, warm and familiar.

I did not speak. I only nodded.

Only then did he let me go and turn back toward the pickup.

I stood there and watched him take off his military jacket. With a gentle motion, he draped it over Chloe's shoulders, then carefully pulled the collar closed for her.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Chloe tilted her mouth at me in a cold smile, her eyes proud and openly provoking.

I changed direction and walked straight to the phone booth on the corner.

With trembling fingers, I dialed that number without hesitating.

The phone rang a few times. I did not wait for him to speak before I asked, "What you said before—about still being willing to marry me—does that still count?"