Divorce. It was the only way out. She had repeated the mantra to herself so often that it began to feel true: "I don't love him anymore. I can't love him anymore." Divorce meant freedom—from waiting up alone at night, from covering her silent tears with the sheets and from living in the shadow of Iris.
Amber's love for Calvin had started years ago, on her first day as a transfer student in high school. He had been tall, aloof and devastatingly handsome, the kind of boy who made teenage hearts race. As the daughter of a wealthy family herself, Amber wasn't accustomed to rejection. But Calvin, with his cold indifference, became her first.
She shamelessly pursued him, letting her pride take a backseat to her feelings. She brought him water at basketball practice, only to see it ignored alongside offerings from other girls. Calvin only drank from the bottles Iris handed him. Amber orchestrated accidental meetings on weekends, carefully planning every detail to seem spontaneous. But Calvin saw through it all, refusing even to acknowledge her presence.
Even his best friend, Jason, had once joked about her misfortune: "Amber, you really picked the wrong guy to like."