Chapter 2: Shadows at Riverwalk

By the time I got there, Mariah had already ordered. The restaurant smelled like grilled meat and sweet soy sauce.

The new grilled eel dish looked incredible. I grinned at Mariah, “This one looks amazing, right?”

She pulled her fork back, rolled her eyes, and said, “Hurry up, take a pic.”

Same ritual, every time. She waggled her eyebrows at me, phone ready, like documenting every meal was a sacred tradition.

I frowned. “What am I even supposed to take a picture of?”

She looked at me in surprise. “What? You’re not gonna take a photo to send to Brandon?”

Nothing left to say. I smiled lightly. “What’s there to share?”

Mariah snorted. But there was relief in her eyes, even if she tried to hide it. She took a bite of eel, then pointed her fork at me. “You know, you’re acting different lately. In a good way.”

She bit her fork, studying me for a moment, then suddenly laughed. “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you? You’re really doing better now.”

I didn’t need to ask what she meant by ‘better.’ I didn’t need to.

My friends never really liked Brandon. Or rather, when we started college and everyone learned he was my boyfriend, they all envied me. Mariah even asked me, half-joking, how she could find a guy that hot. Handsome guy, pretty girl, childhood sweethearts—we were the golden couple, at least on the outside.

At freshman orientation, we were that couple everyone whispered about, the ones who made the rest of us look ordinary. Mariah used to joke that we belonged on a college brochure. It was ridiculous.

But later, when Brandon became known as a notorious flirt, drifting from girl to girl, that envy vanished fast.

They just asked, Did he save your life in a past life or something? What did he ever do to deserve you?

Once, when one of Brandon’s ambiguous flings confronted me, Mariah scolded me, exasperated: “He’s such a jerk—no matter how handsome or smart, he’s still trash. What do you even like about him?” She shook her head, almost laughing at me.

I didn’t answer. Looking back, I probably just loved the Brandon from when we were kids, and all the promises we made to each other.

He promised my sister he’d always take care of me. I promised I’d always stay by his side. That was the deal.

Those old promises turned into an obsession. I kept chasing memories until they broke me.

There were nights when I’d lie awake, replaying those promises, wondering how something so simple could get so heavy. All the things I never said. Heavy.

When Mariah and I finished eating and stepped outside, we ran into Brandon. The air felt colder, all of a sudden.

Aubrey Mitchell was standing next to him. She smiled and greeted me, “Oh, Lila, you’re eating here too?” Then she paused, glancing at Brandon before adding, “Brandon said the food here is great. Do you have any recommendations?” Honestly, she looked more like Brandon’s girlfriend than I ever did.

Mariah started to say something, but I squeezed her hand tight. I looked at that familiar face and smiled, calm and polite, “Everything here is good.”

My heart thudded, but I kept my cool. My voice was steady, practiced. Mariah squeezed my hand back, her nails digging in.

Brandon didn’t say a word. He just stood there, mouth set in a frown, watching me. I knew him well enough to see he was upset.

Maybe it was because I hadn’t replied to his message. Maybe it was the polite small talk between me and Aubrey. Or maybe… who knows. Maybe I was just overthinking.

I was done trying to figure him out.