Chapter 2: Moonlit Betrayal

I woke up in the middle of the night and realized the man beside me was gone.

The house was dark except for the porch light’s faint glow filtering through the curtains. I slipped out of bed, toes curling against the cold hardwood, and padded downstairs for water. That’s when I saw them—two silhouettes caught in the silver-blue light streaming from the street.

My knees almost buckled. I pressed myself flat against the wall, hoping the shadows would swallow me whole. Derek’s tall silhouette was unmistakable.

He pressed closer and closer, pinning the woman against the wall, lowering his head to look at her.

I pinched myself hard, half-wondering if I was still dreaming. But the pain was real.

By the glow of the moon and streetlamp, Derek’s face was clear—his eyes red, rimmed with tears.

The woman he held was Lillian.

Lillian looked like she’d been crying, tears still shining at the corners of her eyes.

I felt a strange detachment, like I’d stumbled into someone else’s heartbreak. But the ache in my chest made it all too real. I ducked behind the staircase banister, breath catching, watching as Derek reached for her.

Derek lifted his hand, gently wiping her tears away with his fingertip.

His voice was hoarse, trembling:

"Lillian, are you going to leave again this time?"

"Why can’t you turn back and look at me?"

"If you won’t turn back, I’ll really marry her."

Every word seemed to cost him—like he was standing at the edge of a cliff, not sure whether to jump or hold on. My stomach twisted. I pressed my back to the cool wall, fighting the urge to sob.

Lillian didn’t answer. Her shoulders shook, her voice choked with tears:

"Derek, I’m cold."

Derek took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

Looking down, he noticed she wasn’t wearing shoes. He pulled out the fuzzy slippers from the hall closet and squatted down to help her put them on.

Those slippers were ones I’d brought to the Hamiltons’ house.

Only then did I notice I’d forgotten to wear shoes, too.

This was the first time I’d ever seen Derek cry.

After three years together, even on the anniversary of his brother’s death, he’d only gotten quietly drunk—never a tear.

When the company nearly lost millions from a whistleblower, he was cool and unflappable, handling it all without panic.

Last year, when I fell ten stories while skiing, he rushed to the hospital. I remembered the antiseptic sting of the hospital sheets, the beep of monitors, and Derek’s face—blank, unreadable—reflected in the window. He only stayed that morning before leaving in a hurry. For the first time, I saw fear on his face. He even knocked over my water bottle as he left.

But now, he was crying and begging Lillian to turn back.

I wiped away my own tears, touched the ring on my finger, and slipped it into my pocket.

It felt heavy, like a stone I’d carried too long. I wanted to throw it across the room, but instead I just clutched it, pressing my nail into the gold until my skin hurt.

When I returned to the bedroom, Derek still hadn’t come back.

At dinner, Lillian and I had added each other on Facebook. My thumb hovered over the friend request button, heartbeat skipping, as if clicking it might change something between us.

I scrolled through her timeline—she rarely posted, so I finished quickly. Unlike me—I’m always posting, sharing, hoping to catch Derek’s attention.

I remembered clearly: the day I was hospitalized from my fall last year was also my birthday. So when I saw that Lillian had posted around that same time, I paid special attention.

That day, her location was tagged as Mexico.

Her post read:

[Almost got scammed at the airport—scared me to death.]

The photo showed the corner of a man’s suit.

Derek’s suits are custom-made, with his initials embroidered inside.

So I was certain—the man in the photo was him. That day, he was so flustered because Lillian was nearly robbed abroad. He left me in the hospital and flew overseas overnight.

Touching that ring, my heart gradually sank.

Even his proposal to me was just a part of his story with Lillian.