Chapter2

Daniel started interfering with my social circle.

First, he complained about random guys liking my Instagram posts, then he just took my password.

“I’ll clean it up for you.” He said it so casually.

Two days later, I noticed all my male contacts were gone.

My cousin, former coworkers, even the retired professor who used to come to the shop and always looked out for me—all of them, vanished.

“You deleted my friends?” I confronted him, phone in hand.

He was at his computer editing a video, didn’t even look up.

“Those people have nothing to do with your life now. What’s the point of keeping them?”

“That’s my cousin!”

He finally turned around, looking irritated.

“Mia, my world is complicated. How many people want to get to me by getting close to you? I’m doing this for your own good.”

Seeing I was too angry to speak, his expression suddenly changed, and his eyes immediately reddened.

“I’m sorry… it’s just, I’m so scared someone will take advantage of you.” He grabbed my hand, his voice breaking. “You have no idea how panicked I get seeing those guys leaving you messages. My dad was the same way. He was slowly seduced away by other women.”

His tears landed on the back of my hand. My heart immediately tangled into a mess.

“Don’t cry…” I felt guilty instead.

“Will you forgive me?” He looked at me, eyes as vulnerable as a puppy’s. “I promise I won’t do it again. I just… I really can’t lose you.”

I sighed and nodded.

But it didn’t end there. The next day, my phone started lagging mysteriously. I checked and found a hidden tracking app.

When Daniel came out of the shower, I asked him directly.

He paused mid-towel-dry, then sighed and sat down next to me.

“Last Wednesday night, you went to that new place downtown, remember? That area’s sketchy, and by nine o’clock I still hadn’t heard from you. I called you ten times.”

He held my hand; his palm was sweaty. “I sat at home with all these terrible scenarios running through my head. If something happened to you, what would I do?” His voice shook. “This app just lets me know you’re safe. You can turn it off anytime. But please… don’t make me go through that fear again.”

He brought up his mother again, saying as a child he’d often wake up in the middle of the night to hear her crying on the phone trying to find his father.

His vulnerability seemed so real. In the end, I said, “…Okay. But don’t sneak around installing things like this again.”

He hugged me tight, saying “Thank you for understanding, babe.”

But somewhere inside me, something cracked.

The real blowup came at a restaurant.

I’d had a cold for days, but he still insisted I come with him to an event.

I was exhausted with a pounding headache, barely present during dinner.

“Daniel,” I tried, “next week when you go to New York, I want to stay home and rest. Just have some time to myself.”

He stopped cutting his steak. “Time to yourself? What does that mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. We’ve been together almost every day lately. I need a little space.”

“Space?” He set down his knife and fork, metal clanking against the plate. “Being with me makes you feel suffocated?”

“I didn’t say that. I just need to breathe a little.”

“What are you missing? Money? A home? Attention?” His voice went cold. “I’ve given you everything, and now you’re bored? You want ‘space’?”

People nearby were looking. My face burned. “Be reasonable, I’m just—”

“I’m not being reasonable?” He suddenly stood up, grabbed the wine glass on the table, and smashed it on the floor!

The explosive crash of shattering glass made me flinch. Crimson wine splattered onto my dress. The entire restaurant went silent.

I sat frozen in my chair, mind blank.

“Sir.” A voice from a nearby table. A man in a suit and glasses stood up.

His tone was calm: “You’ve frightened this lady and disrupted everyone’s meal. Please leave.”

Daniel’s face went bright red. “Who the hell are you? Mind your own business!”

“I’m a patron here.” The man adjusted his glasses. “Would you like me to get the manager to discuss compensation and calling the police?”

Daniel glared at him, then glared at me, breathing heavily. Finally, he threw down some bills and stormed out without looking back.

I was still shaking. The man had a server bring me some water, then sat back down at his own table and continued his meal. He didn’t ask questions, which helped me gradually calm down.

When I got up to leave, he was settling his bill too.

“I live nearby. I’ll walk you to the corner.”

The night air was cool. We walked in silence for a while.

When we reached my building, I stopped. “Thank you for earlier. I’m Mia.”

“Benjamin.” He nodded. “If you’re feeling anxious a lot, you might want to try this.” He pulled out his phone and showed me an app called Lucky Star. “You draw a card each day, do a simple mental exercise. It helps people find calm. Some of the premium cards are beautifully designed, and if you draw them, they even send little gifts. It’s quite interesting.”

The interface looked clean, not like a scam.

“Might work better than smashing wine glasses.” I managed a bitter smile.

“Give it a try.” He said gently. “Get some rest.”

Back home, the empty apartment felt oppressively quiet.

On a whim, I downloaded Lucky Star. The homepage recommended a card called “Today’s Peace,” with an image of a lake under starry skies, promising a sleep-aid aromatherapy set if drawn.

I tapped the draw button. The spinner flashed for a moment, then a line of text appeared: “Unfortunately, luck hasn’t arrived yet today. Top up for more chances?”

I stared at the screen, hesitated for a few seconds, then clicked into the payment page.

First-time special: $6.99 for ten tries.

I entered my payment password.