Chapter 2

But some things, once shattered, can never truly be mended.

I found myself involuntarily observing him. After he fell asleep, I would secretly pick up his phone. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't stop myself.

His SnapChat, texts, and call logs were eerily clean. It wasn't until a week later that, on a strange impulse, I tapped into his phone's cloud drive.

It required a password.

My heart suddenly pounded. I knew all his common passwords, I tried them; they were wrong.

A powerful intuition drove me. With trembling hands, I typed in his and Serena's names.

The screen flashed, and I was in.

In that instant, my blood ran cold.

Inside the cloud drive, there was a folder named "Project." I clicked it open, revealing countless photos, and a subfolder within it, named "Her."

My hands trembled so hard I could barely hold the phone.

I clicked on "Her."

There was only one photo. It was a girl's back, wearing a white dress, standing in a field of sunflowers. Sunlight streamed down on her, making her look like something out of a painting.

Even though it was just a back, I knew almost immediately: that was Serena.

What chilled me to the bone even more was that back, that slightly curly long hair, the style of that dress… it was exactly what I had worn three years ago, on my first date with Leo.

Shaking, I went back to the main "Project" folder and opened another subfolder.

It was full of photos of *me*.

Eating, sleeping, reading, laughing, angry… all kinds of moments of me.

I used to think they were proof of his love, his sweet way of documenting our life together.

But now, looking at these photos, a chill ran from my feet straight to the top of my head.

Because in these photos, his camera angles, and the way he guided my poses… subtly, whether intentionally or not, they were replicating that back in the sunflower field.

I abruptly looked up, at Leo sleeping soundly beside me.

He seemed to be in a deep sleep, his features soft and relaxed.

But in that warm bed, I felt like I'd been plunged into an ice bath.

With trembling hands, I returned to the "Project" folder and started checking other folders.

Their names were simple and clinical: [001_J], [002_L], [003_M]… like cold, numerical codes.

My fingers were icy, I could barely grip the phone, and subconsciously, I clicked on the closest one, [002_L].

Inside were more photos. Many photos. Another girl, long, slightly curly hair, wearing various light-colored dresses. She was laughing, reading, drinking coffee… many candid shots.

But her hairstyle, her fashion sense, the curve of her profile in some shots… faintly, there was an indescribable sense of familiarity.

I backed out and clicked on [003_M].

Same thing. Another girl. Long, slightly curly hair, a fresh, clean style. The number of photos seemed fewer than in 002.

So… I wasn't the first.

And I might not… be the last.

Was I just the latest in his collection of similar replacements?

Did he ever feel an ounce of genuine affection for me? Or was it all just a concession based on my resemblance to her?

That tiny spark of attraction, if it ever existed, for "Maya" as an individual, what did it amount to in the face of his massive obsession with Serena?

Probably, ridiculously insignificant.

I sat on the cold floor, hugging my knees, watching the sky outside slowly lighten.