Chapter 2: Heart Rate Games

2

Hot spring resort.

The resort tried for rustic chic—Edison bulbs, faux-wood paneling, and a Keurig in every room. Outside, the rain hit the window like a drumline. Two rooms, separated by a wall.

Reality show livestream.

There was an observation room inside, and viewers could comment online.

[Y’all, Ethan and Lauren are wilding out 😂]

[Their chemistry is incredible, they match so well.]

[I’ve said before, Ethan and his wife have no feelings left. After all, no one likes the one who holds them back.]

[I’m just here for the mess, honestly.]

[Is he blind? He used to love her so much...]

The staff put heart rate monitors on Ethan and Lauren.

“If your heart rate hits 70, you can leave the room.”

[It’ll break instantly, right?]

But unexpectedly, both of their numbers stopped at 68.

Privately, he and Lauren did everything. Too familiar, afraid of making a mistake. So on the show, they pretended.

[Lauren is so polite, she doesn’t dare get too close.]

[Ethan, don’t hold back, we support you]

Lauren sat at the door.

Ethan stood on the balcony for fresh air, and through a corner, he could see my room.

Ryan hadn’t arrived yet.

I sat alone on the bed, wearing the heart rate monitor.

Someone knocked on the door.

It was a tall, slender man.

A baseball cap covered half his face, the bangs in front of his forehead damp with steam from the hot spring. It was drizzling outside. He carried with him the chill of deep night and heavy mist.

[If Ryan doesn’t smile ONCE I’m suing.]

[My white knight is back]

[How to say this, Ethan, without comparison there’s no harm.]

[Don’t pit them against each other.]

“You have to wear this.”

I handed the other heart rate monitor to Ryan.

Ethan cared a lot about people saying he looked like Ryan.

In the first year after marriage, I was walking with him in the street at midnight, staring at Ryan’s huge luxury brand ad. Unable to move, Ethan pulled my hat down over my head, blocking my view, and said, jealous:

“I just know you like this kind of face.”

Now.

In the other room, Ethan on the balcony. Clearly watching. Watching Ryan walk into the room and close the door behind him. Put on the monitor.

Ethan didn’t mind. He knew from that night that the Ryan he could never catch up with, whom he was deathly jealous of, only married Lauren because of a contract.

Ryan didn’t even like Lauren.

Of course, he wouldn’t possibly fall for someone as ordinary as me, divorced, someone even Ethan didn’t want.

Ethan snorted lightly, not caring at all. But he still watched my reaction without missing a beat.

“Hello, Natalie Brooks.”

My number stayed at 50, and I reached out to Ryan.

“Hello, Ryan.”

He shook it.

A few seconds later, the monitor emitted a sharp, piercing beep.

Ryan’s number went straight off the charts.

But he himself was calmer than anyone.

He said, “The monitor is broken.”

I said, “Oh.”