Chapter 1

Once, I posted a photo of Eugene Chapman and me.

He stopped me right there on the street, his face cold as he pushed my phone down.

"Louisa, I don't like putting my private life online for strangers to gossip about. Delete it. You don't need to be that desperate for attention."

People streamed past us as I fought back tears and deleted the post. Only when the photo disappeared did his expression finally soften.

He sighed and pulled me into his arms.

"Come on. We just need to live our lives. We don't have to post everything online just to prove something to other people."

After that, I never posted about him again.

For the next three years, there wasn't a single trace of him anywhere on my social media.

When my best friend asked if I even had a boyfriend, I laughed it off and told her Eugene was just a private person.

Even our wedding invitations for next month only had a scenic photo on the front.

Then last night, a pet influencer's video popped up in my recommendations, and Eugene was in it. He had one arm around a girl and was grinning at the camera, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

The post had more than ten thousand comments, almost all of them gushing about how cute Eugene and his girlfriend were together.

I went through the account, post by post.

The first video of him went up just eight months after Eugene and I started dating.

The girl's pinned comment read, [He insists on filming us every single day. It's so annoying.]

So Eugene never hated having his life all over social media. He just hated having me in it.

I closed the app and texted the wedding planner.

[The wedding is canceled.]

Chapter 1

After I sent the message canceling the wedding, I sat alone in the study, my hands and feet ice-cold.

On the screen in front of me was the pet account's entire posting history from the past three years. All 1,095 days of it.

Eugene Chapman appeared in every single one.

Sometimes, I saw his profile. Sometimes just his back. Sometimes, he held the ragdoll cat named Mochi in his arms, smiling at the camera with a softness I knew all too well.

I turned off my phone.

The living room light was still on. For the past five years, I had always left it on whenever he came home late.

Then I heard a key turn in the front door.

Eugene was home.

He took off his coat and walked over to me, a slight frown on his face.

"You still haven't finished the wedding intro video?"

He didn't explain why he was home so late. He didn't seem to notice anything different about me, either.

I looked at him calmly. "Almost."

He apparently didn't notice the chill in my voice and went on, "It's due tomorrow. Don't forget."

Then he tossed his camera bag onto the couch. A black camera remote slipped out of the side pocket and rolled across the rug.

My heart sank.

I knew that remote.

I had seen Charlotte Ellis holding the exact same one in countless videos, laughing as she called to Eugene behind the camera, "Eugene, start recording!"

So he didn't just happen to appear in those videos; he was the one filming them.

Eugene bent down and picked up the remote. When he noticed me staring at it, he casually slipped it back into his bag.

"What are you looking at?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Eugene, what's going on with that pet account?"

His expression immediately turned impatient. "I already told you. It's work. I'm collaborating with a pet influencer."

"Your job requires you to be in her videos every day? For three years?"

"What are you trying to make this into now?" His voice rose. "Louisa, can you be an adult about this? Stop turning everything into a relationship problem."

"I just wanted to know…"

"You don't need to know," he cut in. "Just do what you're supposed to do and finish editing the wedding video."

He was always like this.

Grow up. It's work. Stop being so needy.

Any time I asked a question or told him something hurt me, he used the same few words to shut me down.

In the past, I would've apologized right away and wondered what I had done wrong.

That night, I just nodded. "Okay."

Satisfied that I wasn't going to argue, he turned and headed for the bathroom.

As soon as the shower started, I opened my chat with the curator. A new message waited for me.

[Ms. Perry, are you sure you'd like to accept the two-year film restoration residency at the Hillside Film Archive? You previously declined the offer because of your wedding plans.]

I once gave up an opportunity I had worked toward for years because I thought Eugene and I were building a life together.

Now, I was choosing it for myself.

[Yes. I'd like to accept. Thank you for keeping the offer open.]

The next morning, Eugene realized his camera batteries weren't charged, and his shooting notes weren't laid out on the table like usual.

He searched the apartment, growing more irritated by the second. "Louisa, where's my spare battery?"

I kept packing my film restoration tools without looking up. "I don't know. Find it yourself."

He stopped and stared at me in surprise.

I ignored him and used the refunds from the wedding vendors to cover the cancellation fees one by one.

Eugene always used work as an excuse to leave all the wedding planning to me, so every vendor only had my contact information. That made it easy to cancel everything without involving him.

The venue, the officiant, the transportation. I canceled every last reservation myself.

Then I logged into the studio's employee portal and submitted my resignation.

A confirmation box appeared.

[Are you sure you want to submit your resignation?]

I clicked [Yes].

A moment later, my phone buzzed with an email from Hillside.

[Ms. Perry, we're pleased to confirm your acceptance into the Hillside Film Archive's residency. Orientation begins in seven days.]

I opened our online seating chart and removed myself from the head table.

As far as Eugene knew, the wedding was still going ahead exactly as planned. He just didn't know his bride had already walked away.

Chapter 2

The next day, I went to the animal rescue center.

Officially, I was there to return some equipment the wedding studio had borrowed for a shoot.

The volunteers all knew Eugene. They also knew Charlotte as the woman everyone online thought was his girlfriend.

I had barely set the equipment case down when a young volunteer hurried over. "You're Eugene's friend, right? Is he coming today, too?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm just here to return some equipment."

"Oh." She looked disappointed for a second, then smiled again. "That's okay. His girlfriend's here, anyway. Those two are always together."

Another volunteer, who was feeding the cats, laughed. "Seriously, Eugene and his girlfriend are basically our resident couple. They're so cute together."

His girlfriend.

The words rang in my ears.

I looked across the room and saw the woman they were talking about.

Charlotte.

A few volunteers stood around her, teasing her as she laughed.

"Stop calling me that. We're just work partners."

She said it easily, without the slightest hint of embarrassment at being mistaken for his girlfriend.

Then Eugene walked in.

He carried several cases of canned food for the rescue and headed straight for Charlotte, as if going to her was the most natural thing in the world.

The volunteers immediately started teasing him.

"Eugene, back to volunteer with your girlfriend again?"

Eugene just smiled.

He didn't correct them. Not even once.

His eyes moved around the room before stopping on me.

Just then, a representative from one of the rescue's sponsors walked over and glanced between us. "Eugene, who's this?"

For one stupid second, I still hoped.

I hoped he would tell them I was his fiancée.

Instead, Eugene answered casually, "A friend. She's editing the video for our wedding."

A friend.

Just days before our wedding, surrounded by people who already thought he and Charlotte were a couple, Eugene introduced me as nothing more than a friend.

I still remembered what happened three years ago, when Eugene won a major industry award, and reporters crowded around him at the reception afterward.

I instinctively stepped up beside him, but he quickly pulled me aside.

"There are too many people here and too many cameras. Stay out of sight for now."

Back then, I thought he was trying to protect me.

Now I understood that keeping me hidden had always been the rule, and it was a rule that only applied to me.

Across the room, the crew started setting up for a livestream.

Charlotte's lav mic sat slightly crooked on her collar. Eugene walked over without hesitation, leaned in, and adjusted it for her.

The way he did it looked effortless and familiar, like he had done it a hundred times before.

Charlotte looked up at him and complained, "That light almost blinded me just now."

Eugene immediately turned to the lighting technician. "Use a softer light. Her eyes are sensitive."

Then Eugene adjusted the camera for Charlotte and had her lean against his shoulder so she would sit comfortably in the frame.

The focus in his eyes, the quiet tenderness, was exactly what I had seen in those videos again and again.

Once the livestream started, Charlotte pulled something shiny from her pocket and held it up to the camera.

"Ta-da! Look at our custom pet tag for the collab!"

It was a silver bone-shaped tag engraved with their account initials: EC&CE.

Eugene took it from her with a smile and fastened it around her neck himself.

The comments immediately went wild.

[OMG, is this their official relationship announcement?]

[They're endgame. I'm calling it now!]

I couldn't watch anymore. I turned around and left.

When I got home, I opened the cloud drive Eugene and I shared.

We had been together for five years, taken countless trips, and made more memories than I could count.

I sorted the folders by date and went back to the day their account first went live three years ago. Then, I started scrolling.

There were thousands of photos and video clips, and almost every one of them was Charlotte.

Charlotte laughing. Charlotte goofing around. Charlotte holding the cat. Charlotte asleep with her head on Eugene's shoulder.

He had saved all of it, carefully organized by date.

Then I searched my own name.

Nothing.

The only trace of me anywhere in the archive was one rejected photo from three years ago.

Eugene's back was barely visible as he walked out of frame because he told me not to include him in the shot.

I had spent five years by his side, but in the memories he chose to keep, I barely existed.

I closed the laptop and pulled a dusty storage box from the closet.

I had bought it for the move into our new home. Now, I used it to pack up the life I was leaving behind.

My film reels, my restoration tools, the old camera my grandmother left me. One by one, I packed away everything that was mine.

I didn't explain what I was doing to Eugene.

I didn't need his camera turned on me anymore. I didn't need him to acknowledge me, either.

When I chose to leave the shared cloud library, a warning appeared on the screen.

[Leaving this shared library will remove your access to all photos and videos shared with you.]

I didn't save a single file.

I clicked [Leave Library].

Chapter 3

The family anniversary photo shoot took place at Eugene's studio.

His mother, Ursula Chapman, had always been polite to me. That day, though, she was unusually warm.

Just not toward me.

"Charlotte, come here. Stand next to Eugene."

Ursula took Charlotte by the hand and led her to the center of the set, right beside Eugene.

Charlotte looked awkward and glanced at me. "Mrs. Chapman, are you sure? Louisa's right there."

"Oh, don't be silly. You and Eugene have worked together for years. You're practically family."

Ursula laughed, then turned to me.

"Louisa, you know your way around a studio. Would you mind helping with the lighting and holding the reflector?"

And just like that, I went from future daughter-in-law to part of the crew.

I stood off to the side with the heavy reflector in my hands and watched them pose under the studio lights.

Eugene's parents. Eugene. Charlotte.

Together, they looked like a family.

And I was the one standing outside the frame.

A dull ache settled in my chest.

Ursula must have noticed my expression because she called out from the set, "Louisa, smile a little. Don't bring everyone down on such a happy day."

To her, my hurt was just an inconvenience, something that threatened to spoil the mood.

I looked at Eugene, hoping he would say something.

Instead, he frowned and silently mouthed, "Think of everyone else."

There it was again.

Whenever family or some special occasion was involved, I was always the one expected to give in.

Partway through the shoot, one of the lights hit Charlotte directly in the face, and she immediately squinted.

Eugene noticed at once.

"Turn that down," he told the lighting tech. "Use a softbox."

He remembered that Charlotte's eyes were sensitive to bright light.

He remembered every little thing about her.

But he had forgotten about my old wrist injury and how long I could hold something heavy before it started to hurt.

The reflector felt heavier by the minute, and a familiar ache started spreading through my wrist.

Three years ago, I fractured it when I fell while trying to keep one of Eugene's expensive Leica cameras from hitting the ground.

I still remembered how worried he was.

He stayed outside the treatment room all night, then modified a padded camera strap for me so it wouldn't put as much pressure on my wrist. For months after that, he insisted on carrying my equipment cases himself.

Later, he took that same strap and used it as part of Charlotte's livestream setup because he said it looked good on camera.

The memory made my chest ache.

My wrist kept hurting until I finally lost my grip, and the reflector slipped from my hands.

Everyone turned to look.

Eugene hurried over, but he didn't even glance at my wrist. He bent down and picked up the reflector instead.

"What happened? Can we keep shooting or not?"

I looked at him, my eyes stinging. "My wrist hurts."

Only then did he notice the swelling. His frown deepened. "Why weren't you more careful?"

There wasn't a trace of concern in his voice. Only blame.

"Can we still get the last few shots done in time for the account update?" he asked.

That was when the last bit of hope I had left disappeared.

Whatever care he once had for me belonged to someone else now. Apparently, so did his memory.

I shook my head and slowly stood. "No. I can't keep shooting."

Then I walked toward the equipment area without looking back.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from the residency program.

[Ms. Perry, due to severe weather in the forecast, tomorrow evening's incoming group will be departing earlier than planned. Please report for check-in tomorrow afternoon and make the necessary travel arrangements.]

That worked for me.

I walked over to the worktable, took off the wrist brace I had worn for the past three years, and gently set it down.

Eugene was the one who put it on me after my injury. Now, I was leaving it behind.

The photographer handed Eugene the final proofs to review.

In every shot, his parents and Charlotte smiled brightly at the camera.

And in the corner of one photo, barely visible in the reflection of a glass panel, was a faint, blurry figure.

Me.

Chapter 4

On my last day before leaving, I calmly finished the last of my handoff work.

The movers had already picked up my boxes and shipped them to Hillside. I had also received the access information for my residency housing on my new phone.

I erased every trace of myself from the apartment as quietly as if I were only leaving for a short work trip.

When Eugene came home, I was deleting the last file from my computer.

It was our wedding intro video, made up entirely of scenic footage without a single person in it.

When he noticed my swollen wrist, he instinctively pulled some ointment and my old brace from the first-aid kit. He sat beside me and carefully treated my wrist, his movements as practiced as ever.

For one brief moment, I almost wavered.

Maybe some part of him still cared about me.

Then he spoke.

"Is your wrist feeling better? If it is, can you revise the wedding video again? The color grading feels too cold."

Just like that, reality settled back in.

He still had no idea there wasn't going to be a wedding.

I looked at him and asked one last question. "Eugene, have you ever thought about what happens if I don't want to live like this anymore?"

He looked at me like I had said something absurd. "What are you talking about? Are you seriously still doing this?"

He walked over, a mocking look on his face.

"Taking your photo out of the wedding display, canceling the family portrait. That was all just to pressure me into making our relationship public, wasn't it? Well, I'm telling you now, I'm not going to be manipulated."

So that was how he saw everything I had been through, all the hurt and every compromise I had made. To him, it was nothing more than another tantrum.

I let out a bitter laugh as my eyes stung with tears.

His phone rang. It was the director of the animal rescue center, and he sounded frantic.

"Eugene! Something happened during Charlotte's livestream. A piece of equipment fell, and she tried to shield the cat. I think she got hit!"

Eugene's expression changed instantly. He grabbed his coat and rushed out without even looking back at me.

He had completely forgotten that we were supposed to have our final wedding walk-through that afternoon.

Once again, something important to us came second to Charlotte.

I didn't go after him.

Instead, I opened the livestream I knew all too well.

The camera shook violently as people rushed around in a panic, but I could still see what was happening.

Eugene ran into frame and pulled Charlotte against him, turning his back to shield her in case anything else fell. He checked her over again and again, his voice trembling with a kind of panic I had never heard from him before.

"Are you okay? Where did it hit you?"

Even after Eugene realized Charlotte was only shaken up, he didn't let go of her.

Instead, he held her there in front of tens of thousands of viewers.

Someone nearby reached for the livestream controls, but Eugene stopped them.

"Leave it on. Keep streaming. We don't want the account to lose momentum."

Three years ago, he made me stand on a public sidewalk in tears and delete a photo of us because he claimed he wanted to keep his private life private.

Now, for the sake of another woman's engagement numbers, he had no problem letting thousands of strangers watch him hold her.

He didn't hate cameras. He just hated having me in the frame.

The comments were already exploding.

[Oh my god! Eugene is such boyfriend material!]

[They're totally real. There's no way this is just for the camera!]

[Eugene and his girl better stay together forever!]

I read through the comments and quietly liked one of them.

Then I closed the livestream, took the SIM card out of my old phone, and dropped it in the trash.

Before I left, I set my key card on the entryway table.

"Goodbye, Eugene," I said quietly to myself.

I closed the door behind me and walked away from the home I would never return to.

It was already late by the time I reached the station.

I stood alone on the platform until the overnight train arrived.

As soon as I boarded, I used my new number to send every wedding guest a short message letting them know the wedding was canceled.

The train slowly pulled out of the station, and the city lights slipped past the window until they blurred into streaks of color.

Back at the rescue center, Eugene finally managed to calm Charlotte down.

He pulled out his phone, ready to call me and demand an explanation, when a final notification from the wedding studio appeared on his screen.

[Dear Mr. Chapman, this is to confirm that all wedding services and reservations were canceled effective seven days ago at Ms. Perry's request. All invited guests have now been notified of the cancellation.]

Outside the window, darkness stretched for miles. In the glass, the lights inside the train reflected my calm face back at me.

While Eugene was busy worrying about another woman, his bride had already left him behind.