1 On my nineteenth trip abroad, Justin bypassed tourist spots again, dragging me into a dense rainforest. Insects crawled through mud, guttural calls echoed. I clutched his sleeve, pleading we turn back. He ignored me, eyes fixed on his phone’s blinking red dot. A viper coiled around my calf. I reached for Justin, but he leapt forward, catching Renee, his childhood best friend who’d vanished two years ago, as she jumped from a tree. “Took you long enough,” she teased, arms around his neck. “I promised I’d bring you home,” he murmured. I collapsed onto the mud, blood pouring from the snakebite. The truth hit: nineteen trips weren’t memories for us. They were cover while he hunted her. He’d promised marriage after our travels. I’d followed him through deserts, rapids, and snow-capped peaks. All I got was a man whose eyes held only another woman. I was exhausted. His journey was over. And so were we. … The rental car broke down right when the rain started to fall. Justin popped the hood, checking the engine while dialing emergency services. He scowled, his face full of annoyance. “You really need to watch where you’re walking,” he snapped at me. “Now we all have to waste time waiting for an ambulance because of you.” I sat helplessly on the muddy shoulder of the road. Listening to his complaints, I didn’t even have the energy to respond. Looking up, I saw Justin and Renee wearing full-body protective gear. I was wearing ordinary hiking clothes. Justin hadn’t told me our final destination, nor had he prepared any gear for me. He hadn’t even spared me a single glance when the snake bit me. Tears mixed with the rain, dripping onto the blood-stained mud beneath me. By the time the ambulance arrived, my consciousness was fading fast. Justin and Renee climbed into the back with me. He held my hand, but his head was turned completely toward Renee, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I left the hotel in the middle of the night,” Justin said softly to her. “I was terrified you’d run away again if I was a minute late. Don’t pull a stunt like this ever again. Do you have any idea what the last two years have been like for me?” As he spoke, his grip on my hand tightened painfully. I knew that intensity wasn’t meant for me. Renee tossed her hair back, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. “That was your punishment! You have to remember: the first peeled shrimp always goes into my bowl!” Justin offered her an indulgent laugh. “Alright. I promise.” As darkness pulled me under, their conversation echoed relentlessly in my mind. Two years ago, Renee had stormed off and vanished simply because Justin placed a single peeled shrimp in my bowl at dinner. Yet I was supposed to be his fiancée. Justin and Renee grew up together. When I met her for the first time, she smiled and called me “sister,” but her arm naturally slid through Justin’s. Justin had told me not to overthink it. “I only see her as a little sister.” But do normal siblings bathe together and scrub each other’s backs? Renee had endless demands. She insisted on riding shotgun in his car, demanded that Justin hand-feed her, and forced him into fitting rooms to zip up her dresses. Her total lack of boundaries chilled my heart time and time again. I had fought with Justin over it. Seeing his complete lack of remorse, the thought of breaking up crossed my mind for the very first time. Pathologically, that was when Renee vanished, and Justin suddenly insisted on taking me on a world tour. He never mentioned Renee’s name. He claimed that traveling together before marriage would help us understand each other better, promising we’d tie the knot the moment we returned. He thoughtfully packed my bags, swaying my resolve to leave. During the trip, I noticed something was off. Sometimes he insisted on staying in a single city for three months; other times, he demanded we board a flight the moment we landed. “Can’t we explore a little?” I had asked him at an airport terminal, feeling exhausted. “I heard the local food here is amazing.” Justin had kept his head down, staring intently at the red dot on his phone screen. “It’s all tourist traps. The scenic spots are overcrowded. Just look up pictures online.” It wasn’t until today that I finally understood: the red dot he monitored twenty-four hours a day was Renee’s real-time GPS location. She ran, and he chased. A wave of overwhelming grief jolted me back into a brief state of consciousness. Their voices drifted into my ears once more. “Why did you even bring Sadie along?” Renee complained softly. “To cook for me,” Justin replied casually. “You know how sensitive my stomach is.” Yes, we all knew how delicate Justin’s digestive system was. Ever since I got together with him, I had been meticulous about his diet. Even while traveling, I did my best to buy fresh groceries and cook his meals personally. It turned out I had treated him too well, so well that he forgot how I had spent countless nights hunched over toilet bowls, throwing up from severe motion sickness and unfamiliar food. In Justin’s eyes, I was nothing more than a glorified live-in maid. Renee never cared about his health. Whenever she wanted something, Justin would indulge her without question. Once, he ate ultra-spicy hotpot with her and ended up collapsed on the floor in agony from acute gastritis. Yet the next time she invited him out, he went without hesitation. I had once thought Justin was just too polite to say no, so I offered to decline her invitations on his behalf. Before I could even finish my sentence, Justin had snatched my phone away. “Renee just wants to eat hotpot. What did she do wrong?” Right. She did nothing wrong. So what did I do wrong? All I wanted was a loving, complete outcome for our relationship. All I wanted was for the man I loved to have eyes only for me. He couldn’t do it. And I was done waiting. When I woke up, the hospital room was completely empty. I picked up my phone from the nightstand and saw a text Justin had sent two days ago: [The hospital is too depressing, so we left first. The bills are paid. Get some rest, and I’ll bring you a souvenir when we get back.] Staring at those cold words, a bitter, self-deprecating smile touched my lips. Right then, my phone pushed a notification for Renee’s latest social media update. They had visited the city’s most famous cathedral, waited in line for viral ice cream, and taken dozens of intimate photos along the beach. In the photos, Justin was smiling brighter than I had ever seen in five years. We had been together for half a decade, yet looking at him now felt like watching a complete stranger flaunt his happiness with someone else. He claimed he hated crowds, yet he abandoned every single one of his rules for Renee. Or rather, Renee was his only rule. I stared at those photos for a long time, unable to process the hollow ache in my chest, until the doctor walked into the room. I couldn’t understand a word of the local language. Seeing the solemn expressions on their faces, an unsettling dread filled my heart. With trembling hands, I pulled up a translation app on my phone. The cold, robotic voice translated the doctor’s words: “We were unable to save your baby.” My hands went limp, and the phone crashed onto the floor. The sharp sound echoed in the quiet room, shattering my heart into pieces. I refused to accept it. I gestured frantically, trying to double-check with the doctor. In that moment, I desperately prayed that the translation app was broken. When the doctor offered a solemn, confirming nod, all the strength drained from my body. My hands drifted unconsciously down to my flat stomach. Justin suffered from severe oligospermia, and my uterus had been severely damaged from a previous miscarriage years ago. This was supposed to be our last chance at having a child. If I hadn’t followed him into that rainforest, if I hadn’t been bitten by that snake, my baby might still be alive inside me. It was too late. Grief and resentment consumed me, but I still forced myself to call Justin. He deserved to know. It was his child, too. The phone rang endlessly. It wasn’t until the thirteenth call that he finally picked up. Justin’s impatient voice blasted through the receiver. “You’re awake? We’re very busy right now, we’ll talk later.” Hearing his voice, tears spilled down my cheeks. “Justin… our baby is gone,” I choked out, struggling to string the words together. Justin hesitated for a single second before letting out a mocking laugh. “Our baby? Sadie, come up with a better lie next time. Trying to trick me into coming back with a stunt like that is pathetic.” I froze, stunned into silence. He didn’t believe me. I had told him about the pregnancy weeks ago. He had nodded while sitting right beside me. He hadn’t listened to a single word I said. Justin loved me even less than I had imagined. I forced down the lump in my throat, trying to explain again, but the loud chime of an airport boarding announcement rang over the line. My heart skipped a beat. “Justin, where are you?” He fell silent for a moment before moving to a quieter spot. “Renee wants to go home.” The final thread holding my composure together snapped. “So?” I wept. “You just abandoned me? Justin, I’m still in the hospital!” I never imagined he could be this heartless. He had left me stranded in a foreign country without a second thought, all for Renee. “Who knew when you’d wake up?” Justin replied, his tone flat and unbothered, as if discussing the weather. “You can’t expect us to wait around forever.” A moment later, Renee’s voice drifted into the background. “Sadie, you’re so independent, I’m sure you can manage to fly home on your own, right? We’ll be waiting for you back home!” Home? That was never my home. In a foreign land, unable to speak the language, I handled my own discharge paperwork and dragged my exhausted body back to the hotel. The room was in disarray. Justin’s jacket was still tossed over the sofa, evidence of how hurriedly they had packed, terrified I might wake up and slow them down. I numbly packed my belongings. While clearing out the nightstand, I found Justin’s old tablet tucked between the mattress and the frame. His messaging account was still logged in. After a brief hesitation, I tapped on his chat thread with Renee. Even though they had seen each other every day, their chat history was endless. Justin sent her pictures of fallen leaves on his morning commute, ordered extra portions of food whenever he found a good restaurant, and replied to her messages instantly, even during major corporate meetings. Everything he gave to Renee was something I had spent five years praying for. My chat window with Justin was always dead silent. No matter what I sent, he replied with a single, transactional “Okay.” I let out a soft, bitter laugh. My fingers scrolled upward through the logs, landing on the day Renee had vanished two years ago. Justin had sent hundreds of frantic texts and made dozens of calls. [Renee, where are you running off to?] [Please stop scaring me. Just send me one message, please.] [I was wrong. I promise I’ll peel the shrimp for you first next time.] Even through plain text, I could feel his desperation and guilt. The words “I’m sorry” appeared repeatedly. Early the next morning, Renee had finally replied: [If you can find me, I’ll forgive you and go back with you.] Attached was a blurry photo of an unnamed highway. Renee always dropped subtle clues, and no matter how cryptic they were, Justin never complained. He simply replied: [Wait for me.] Then he transferred money directly to her bank account with a note: [Don’t skimp on yourself.] Seeing this version of Justin left me thoroughly stunned. He had never worried about me. When I was once stranded on a mountain during a storm for a day and a night, Justin didn’t make a single call. When I finally dragged myself home, exhausted and bruised, he merely offered a cold remark. “I’m very busy. I don’t have time to deal with trivial matters.” When I suffered my first miscarriage, bleeding heavily on a hospital bed with my life hanging by a thread, Justin hadn’t answered his phone once. He was attending an art exhibition with Renee. It wasn’t until I was discharged that he casually drove over with Renee to pick me up. “Your constitution is too weak,” he had said, his tone as light as air. “You need to exercise more.” I wasn’t blind to his blatant favoritism. I had once deliberately left home for a few days, desperate to see if he would worry about me. He didn’t. He worked as usual and went out drinking with his friends at night, a smile glued to his face. “She’ll come back on her own,” he had told his friends confidently. Justin was certain that my love for him would keep me by his side forever, certain that I would forgive everything he did. But long before I loved him, I loved myself. I calmly shut down the tablet. I booked two one-way flight tickets. One to Chicago to pack up my remaining life. And one to Seattle, to erase Justin from my existence entirely. After a grueling ten-hour flight, I landed in Chicago, only to find an electronic invitation waiting in my inbox. A welcome-back party for Renee was being held at The Grand Plaza Hotel. It was the exact venue I had booked months ago for our wedding. Every single detail of the ballroom had been designed by me. Yet the woman standing in the spotlight wasn’t me. On Renee’s social media feed, the venue looked almost identical to my original wedding vision, except every single red rose had been replaced with white Lisianthus flowers. [Thank you to Justin for flying these flowers in! I love them so much!] In the photo, Justin’s reflection in the glass was slightly blurred, but the tender, affectionate smile on his face was unmistakable. Of course. Justin had always insisted that whatever Renee wanted, she would get. In this relationship, I had always been the outsider. Being squeezed in the middle was unbearable. I hated it. Returning to our apartment, I packed my bags without stopping for a moment. Everything connected to Justin was left behind. While I was packing, my phone rang. It was Justin. He lowered his voice, his tone sharp and hurried. “Are you back in Chicago? Hurry up and bring the gift on the desk over to the hotel. I was in a rush and forgot it.” I walked over to the desk. Sitting right in the center was an exquisite velvet jewelry box. Inside was a limited-edition diamond ring—one of only three in the entire city. “Justin, sending a ring to a friend isn’t appropriate, is it?” I said quietly. When this ring was first released, Justin had promised he would fight to buy it for me as a wedding band. Now, that promise had been completely wiped from his mind. Justin’s tone turned impatient. “What’s inappropriate about it? Renee likes it.” “You’re getting jealous over nothing again. It’s just a ring. I’ll buy you another one later.” I let out a faint smile. What I wanted was never just a ring. In the hotel ballroom, Justin was pacing like a nervous wreck, shuffling his feet to hide his anxiety. “It’s still not here? Can’t you hurry her up?” he grumbled to his friend. When the courier finally appeared at the door, the weight on Justin’s chest lifted. However, the courier didn’t just deliver the ring box. He also handed over two official medical reports. One was my hospital discharge report for a complete miscarriage. The other was an official medical diagnostic report confirming Justin’s severe oligospermia. Justin’s eyes widened in horror. His fingers began to tremble uncontrollably. “This… this is impossible…”
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