He kept on driving, her words somehow becoming louder the further away he drove. And as soon as he got to the first stoplight, he pulled out his phone to text Phantom one command: Set up a meeting with Kuang.

29

DAWN

I told Victor the truth. I finally told Victor the truth I’d been holding back for ten years.

And he didn’t believe me.

A few minutes after I made my full confession, he pulled to a stop in front of my home-shaped prison and signed for me not to forget my bag. And that was it.

Our surprise mini-vacation ended with me grabbing my Aggretsuko tote from the back seat and him driving off before the rear door was fully closed.

So I guess he hated me again. I wished, not for the first time, that it was as easy for me to hate him back.

The rest of the day passed by without a peep from Victor—no surprise there.

And, you know what, it didn’t matter that he’d disappeared. Again. That he didn’t believe me. Again.

In fact, this was probably better.

Ten years after the first time he ghosted me, I knew exactly what to do when the silent beast bounced without a word of explanation. Keep it moving, Dawn. Don’t dwell on it. Just take the L and move on.

I focused on my work, just like I had before we agreed to that stupid game of pretend. I threw myself into getting everything ready for my soft presentation the next day and decided being alone was for the best.

With his intense presence and silent refusal to believe me, Victor would have only been a distraction.

And how had I expected the conversation to end anyway? I’d known he wouldn’t believe me. I’d known that for ten years. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here. I was lucky I got out of that car without him threatening to kill my whole family again if I tried to make excuses for why I’d worked with my father to destroy his.

Still, the disappointment dogged me as I put the final touches on my presentation. And hollow loneliness set in when bedtime rolled around, and Victor still didn’t show up—just like I knew he wouldn’t.

It took me forever to fall asleep. And after I finally did, I tossed and turned and dreamed of terrible things I couldn’t remember the next morning when I woke up. Alone.

Still no Victor, so I didn’t bother with making us the kind of brunchy Sunday breakfasts I’d been going all out for over the last few weekends.

Again, this was for the best. I always got so nervous before speaking in public anyway. The last thing I wanted was pancakes and fruit compote coming up because I was trying to impress my monster of a husband with my breakfast-making skills.