That day, every headline was buzzing about how Patrick Sanchez had lost his mind—how he'd ignored everyone trying to stop him, ordered the artificial lake in the city center drained, and then jumped in himself to fish something out.
The third year, I planned to go public with our relationship first, then take the trip.
But fate had another cruel joke waiting for me.
It wasn't until I saw Patrick bring up the past with my own eyes that I finally understood. I was the fool. The complete and utter fool.
In Patrick's heart, Edith would always come first.
All she had to do was stand there, and I'd already lost.
The moment I walked through the door, my phone couldn't help but shove Patrick and Edith's love story in my face.
Childhood sweethearts. First love. Torn apart by fate. Reunited at last.
A pair of star-crossed lovers for the ages.
I sipped my Coke, tasting something faintly bitter and salt on my lips.
On the table, my phone still showed a message Patrick had sent three hours ago. He said he'd apologize in person when he got home.
I waited two weeks. No apology came. Instead, I watched Patrick escort Edith to event after event, right there on my screen.