Chapter 4

Chapter 4

After coaxing Chen You to sleep, Jiang Zhao went out to the balcony to smoke alone.

He stood tall and lean, his silhouette nearly merging with the night, with only the scarlet ember at his fingertips glowing in the dark.

His face was devoid of expression as his thumb repeatedly rubbed the cigarette-a sign that he was currently very agitated.

I was forced to float less than two meters away from him, watching him coldly.

Now that he and the woman he loved had confessed their feelings to each other, I didn’t know what he was still so frustrated about.

Oh, right. We hadn’t officially broken up yet.

Maybe it was because of what happened earlier-unfulfilled desire, I supposed.

Suddenly, his phone chimed.

Jiang Zhao checked it almost instantly, his dark eyes fixed intently on the screen.

A second later, a flicker of disappointment flashed through his gaze.

My curiosity was piqued, so I floated behind him to blatantly peek at his screen.

What I saw left me stunned.

The screen Jiang Zhao had open was our WeChat chat log.

We hadn’t contacted each other since that massive fight.

The last message in our history was one I had sent: “Xiao Zhao, your birthday is coming up in seven days! What kind of gift do you want?”

Maybe he was too busy with work that day, or maybe he was at the hospital taking care of Chen You, but he never replied.

Now, Jiang Zhao’s thumb was mindlessly scrolling up and down, refreshing the app as if doing so would make a new message appear from the other side.

I didn’t know how to react.

While I was lost in thought, Jiang Zhao sent a message.

Jiang Zhao: “It’s eleven-thirty.”

I understood his reminder in an instant.

It was 11:30 PM. His birthday was almost over.

As the girlfriend who hadn’t missed his birthday in five years-the one who made him longevity noodles and celery dumplings every single time-I hadn’t said “Happy Birthday” to him once this year.

But I would never say it again.

Not now, not ever.

Because I was already dead.