In the distance, fireworks exploded into the sky.
I snapped out of my daze, yanked the charm off with all my strength, and hurled it into the trash.
Ding—
Camille had sent something new.
This time, a voice recording.
In it, she asked in that coy, bratty tone of hers:
"Kevin, between me and your girlfriend—who do you love more?"
"Hmm?"
Kevin's voice sounded drowsy. Tender. Intimate.
"You. I love you the most. She can't even compare to you."
"Baby, let's go again, okay?"
The violent rustling of fabric left nothing to the imagination.
I switched off my phone and bolted to the bathroom, retching violently over the sink.
When I finally looked up at the mirror—
Somewhere along the way, tears had soaked my face.
I booked a 7 a.m. train ticket for the next morning without thinking twice.
All I wanted was to get out of this city as fast as possible. Away from Kevin.
I don't remember how I got home.
By the time I came back to myself, it was already the sixth day of the new year.
Mom and Dad could tell something was wrong, but they didn't pry. Instead, they kept buying me little things, trying every trick they knew to coax a smile out of me.
That morning, Mom asked me gently: