Chapter 4

Auntie Lanny gave me a helpless smile. "Nick's not coming home today. Just got back to the country and a bunch of friends invited him out. He didn't even have time to talk to me properly. Luna, why don't you stay for dinner?"

"No, no, Auntie Lanny. I have something urgent to take care of. I'll come back another time." I quickly waved her off, secretly relieved.

I was afraid to see Nick, afraid of becoming a joke.

We had been best friends once, promising to apply to the same university. I even joked with him back then that if we both got in, maybe we could try dating.

He wore a white shirt that day, his eyes clear and bright, a smile playing on his lips. "I'd like that."

But I broke that promise... and fell from being the perfect student to a rebellious delinquent.

I couldn't face him, and I definitely didn't want him to know the truth about my situation with Daniel.

I scurried away from there like a rat crossing the street.

Back home, I spent the afternoon in a depressed state until Susan called. "Luna, come with me to meet this guy I've been talking to online. He's waiting for me at Coastal Grand Hotel right now!"

"I'm too tired. Don't feel like going," I refused immediately.

"Please come with me! What if something happens to me alone? It's dangerous for a woman to meet an online date by herself..." Susan wouldn't stop nagging.

After her relentless pestering, I finally gave in.

I despised her, but I was curious to witness the darkness in her heart firsthand.

At 7:30 that evening, Susan and I met at the entrance of Coastal Grand Hotel. She wore a black leather slip dress that looked provocative and sexy. The moment she saw me, she linked arms with me, acting like we were the closest of friends.

"Let's go," she said, leading me to the private room they'd arranged.

While Susan was happily chatting with her online date, I quietly slipped out of the private room to get some air.

That's when I heard Daniel's voice coming from the neighboring room, "She can't handle alcohol, stop pressuring her."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Smith. I don't even know how to drink..." Wendy's soft, fragile voice followed immediately after.

I turned and noticed that the door to the neighboring room, which had been tightly closed, was now cracked open about a hand's width.

I walked over and peered through the gap.

Seven or eight people sat around a round table, laughing and talking.

Daniel wore a black shirt, his handsome face sporting a carefree smile. One arm was wrapped around Wendy while the other hand waved off drinks being offered to her.

Wendy huddled in his embrace, her small face showing two parts panic, three parts helplessness, and five parts vulnerability—a damsel in distress.

A secretary who can't drink while accompanying her boss to business dinners? That's almost laughable.

But Daniel loved her innocent, naive persona—because she reminded him so much of who I used to be.

He dragged me down into the mud, then turned around and redirected his guilt about me toward another woman, calling her my "replacement."

"Mr. Smith is such a gentleman. Everyone in the industry talks about your precious secretary who you can't bear to see troubled. Now I see it's true," someone teased.

Daniel immediately let go of Wendy, his smile fading. "Who's spreading such nonsense? I'm a married man. I'm not letting Miss Luther drink simply because I don't want a bunch of men taking advantage of her. If you talk like that and it reaches my wife's ears, I'll be in trouble."

The others exchanged glances before quickly changing their tune. "Mr. Smith’s devotion to his wife is legendary. We'd never suggest otherwise. Come on, let's drink!"

Wendy straightened her disheveled collar, looking slightly resentful.

But the next second, Daniel grabbed her chin, tilted her face up, and kissed her.

The sight nearly knocked me off my feet.

He hungrily devoured her lips while everyone around them stared in shock, too stunned to speak.

Wendy eagerly returned Daniel's passionate kiss, both of them as restless as if they were drunk on more than just alcohol.

Daniel's hands were already sliding under Wendy's clothes, with a boldness that went far beyond anything I could have imagined.

Apparently in my previous life, his confession had left out many disgusting details.

"Everyone here has their reputation to consider. None of us are saints outside our homes. Surely you wouldn't gossip about my little indiscretion?" Daniel reluctantly released Wendy's lips, flashing a playful smile at the others.

Wendy seemed aroused, breathing heavily with flushed cheeks and dreamy, wet eyes that could captivate any man's soul.

She lowered her head and hid in Daniel's arms like a frightened quail.

Daniel stroked her head as if petting an animal, then twirled a strand of her hair around his pinky finger.

In that moment, my stomach contracted violently. The urge to vomit rose in my throat.

I turned and stumbled away, tears streaming down my face from both physical disgust and emotional rage. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up violently.

In my mind, the image of Daniel playing with Wendy's hair replayed in slow motion as I retched until nothing but bile came up.

After what felt like an eternity in the bathroom, I emerged exhausted.

Tears streaked my face as I walked, not caring about my appearance. I wanted to burst into that room and slap Daniel hard across the face, but that would ruin my plan to leave him.

He would certainly find ways to apologize, to keep me, to lock me down with extreme measures.

Just then, a group of people approached from the opposite direction.

Through my tear-blurred vision, I recognized Nick. He had matured considerably from the boy in my memories, still in a white shirt, but his handsome features had lost their childishness, replaced by a grown man's confidence.

He was talking with the people beside him as they passed me.

"Nick... Peterson," I called out his name instinctively.

He paused briefly before someone asked, "Nick, you know her?"

He smiled slightly. "No. Let's go."

I watched his retreating back, feeling an endless bitterness spread through me, amplifying my already painful emotions. The tears wouldn't stop.

I was nothing like my former self. It was natural that Nick didn't recognize me. I walked toward the hotel exit like a zombie.

Just as I reached the entrance, Nick appeared before me again. He extended his hand, offering a pack of tissues, his expression distant. "Did Daniel Smith die? You're crying so hard."

I stared at him blankly.

"Thanks," I said after coming to my senses, taking the tissues.

Nick's eyes had a sharp edge to them. He studied my tear-stained face for a few seconds, then turned around without exchanging pleasantries.

He had only given me tissues out of whatever remained of our past connection.

These tears I was shedding now were the price of my foolishness back then.

I returned to my car and after sitting quietly for a while, I called Daniel.

"Honey." He answered quickly. The background was completely silent.

No doubt everyone was playing along with his act.

"Daniel, I think I have a fever. I feel awful," I mumbled with a stuffy nose.

"A fever? I'm coming home right now!" Daniel cut the conversation short and hung up immediately.