Around noon at work, I headed to view an apartment when I stepped into the elevator and unexpectedly encountered Lucian and Ophelia. 

Her hair was tousled, and Lucian helped her gather it neatly.

The moment Ophelia spotted me, she placed her hands on her hips, pouting dramatically. “Savannah, you’re just in time! Look at Lucian! He keeps tugging at my hair like a little kid. It’s so infuriating!”

Before I could interject, Lucian playfully pinched Ophelia’s nose. He teased, “Little liar, keep spinning your tales, and that nose of yours will stretch like Pinocchio’s.”

Ophelia’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and finally, Lucian turned to me as if struck by inspiration. “Savannah, what a delightful coincidence; let’s have lunch together.”

Over the five years we’d worked in the same building at different companies, Lucian had never once asked me to join him for lunch.

Meanwhile, Ophelia couldn’t resist flaunting every meal they shared on social media.

Remembering this, I smiled and replied, “You two go ahead. I’ve got things to take care of.”

Lucian’s surprise was evident, his expression darkening just as the elevator lurched and the lights flickered out.

Turning on my phone’s flashlight, I caught sight of him comforting Ophelia, his voice soft and reassuring.

It wasn’t long before the elevator jolted back to life, and as we reached the ground floor, Lucian offered to give me a ride.

However, before I could respond, Ophelia suddenly collapsed.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Lucian brushed past me, scooped Ophelia onto his back, and hurried her to the hospital.

Picking up my cracked phone, I signaled for a cab and continued to my apartment viewing.

Later that evening, Lucian personally dropped off a dessert at my desk.

Thirty minutes earlier, I had come across Ophelia's new post: [Loving someone resembles caring for flowers; one could never finish this, never!]

The post featured a lavish spread of French desserts. I thanked Lucian but left the dessert box sealed.

He looked perplexed.

“Savannah, why the sudden politeness?” he asked, but I didn’t reply directly.

Instead, I said, “If there’s nothing else, I need to print some documents.”

When I returned with my resignation letter in hand, Lucian had already vanished, leaving behind a sticky note that urged me to come upstairs to see him once I was finished.

I tossed the sticky note and the dessert into the trash before heading to my boss’s office to submit my resignation.

My boss attempted to change my mind, but once he recognized my resolve, he accepted my resignation letter. 

Following the standard procedure, I would be free to leave after completing this week’s tasks.

At ten that evening, while mingling with colleagues at a gathering, Lucian called.

A male coworker accidentally answered, and when I took the call, Lucian's voice was cold. “Savannah, where are you at this hour?”

I simply replied, “Out.”

“Send me your location. I’m coming to get you,” he commanded before abruptly hanging up.

After sending him my location, I waited until the store closed, but he never showed up. 

Checking Ophelia’s social media, I found a post about her feeling ill and attached to an IV, which didn’t surprise me.

I took a cab home alone, took a shower, and went to bed.

Around three in the morning, Lucian returned, dusty and exhausted, shaking me awake.

He said coldly, “Savannah, I’m hungry. Make me some tacos.” 

He had never been fond of tacos, but I knew who he wanted them for.

I attempted to withdraw my hand, but I felt the scar etched into the back of his hand. 

If it hadn’t been for Lucian that day the school auditorium caught fire, I would probably be dead. 

A life spared for a simple bowl of tacos seemed a fair exchange.

As I slipped into my coat, ready to step out, Lucian's hand caught my arm, a rare uncertainty clouding his voice.

“Maybe… maybe this can wait till morning?” he ventured, his words trailing off, almost pleading.

I gently cut him off, my voice calm but insistent, “Besides tacos, is there anything else she’s craving?”

For a brief moment, he stood in silence, then released my arm, his gaze softening. “No, that’s it.”

At the break of dawn, he appeared at my door, holding a thermos filled with food. 

“Savannah, I’ll be going abroad next week. I plan to take some time this Saturday to have dinner with your parents and talk about our wedding…” 

Before he could complete his thought, I interjected, “That’s not necessary.” 

Lucian's expression shifted to one of surprise. “What do you mean?”

“They’re on a trip and won’t be back anytime soon," I lied with a smile.

He looked at me, his eyes searching for an answer, but just then, his phone rang, and he quickly shut the door.

On Friday, my last day at work, I had just stepped out of the building when Lucian abruptly yanked me into his car wordlessly.

At a fancy restaurant, he was slicing my steak as he asked, “Which wine would you prefer?”

Absently scrolling through my phone, I replied, “You can choose.”

My lack of enthusiasm made his face cloud over just a bit. 

“Who are you chatting with?” he pressed.

“No one,” I said.

Even with my reply, he snatched my phone, flipping through it for a moment before turning to me with an unreadable expression. “When did you change your wallpaper?”

After all these years together, my wallpaper had always featured a photo of us. Still, now it displayed a picture of my parents’ little dog.

Worn out by the conversation, I stood up to head to the restroom.

When I returned, Lucian had vanished.

Without warning, the lights dimmed, and a server rolled a cart laden with flowers and a cake toward the next table.

Just then, my phone lit up with a birthday message from the network provider.

As I exited the restaurant, I heard a familiar, sweet voice: “Ah! Lucian, you’re so strong! Push me higher…”

Seated on a swing outside, Ophelia squealed joyfully as Lucian pushed her.

Caught up in her excitement, she lost her balance and fell right into his arms.

They gazed into each other’s eyes, unaware of anyone else around, until they finally caught sight of me.

Lucian’s gaze lingered on me, a flicker of disappointment casting shadows across his otherwise unreadable expression.

“Savannah, this swing is a blast! Come join us…”

Ophelia’s cheeks bloomed a delicate pink as she shyly withdrew her hand from Lucian’s shoulder.

“Savannah,” she interjected quickly, her voice a mix of urgency and uncertainty, “please don’t get the wrong idea. Lucian was just keeping me from taking a tumble…”

With a playful ruffle of her hair, Lucian cast a warm glance at Ophelia, melting the cold tension that hung in the air. 

“Silly girl,” he said with a soft chuckle, “there’s no need to explain. The only thing that matters is that you’re not hurt.”

Once he finished soothing her, he shifted his attention back to me, the warmth in his gaze evaporating like morning mist. 

“So, are you finished eating?” he asked, his voice steady but lacking its earlier gentleness.

Without replying, I headed over to the Ferris wheel, recalling the saying that a birthday wish made from the top is destined to come true. 

Just as I turned away, I spotted a hint of scorn in Ophelia’s eyes as she dragged Lucian in my direction. 

“Wow, a Ferris wheel! Lucian, I absolutely want to ride this too!” she bubbled, her voice brimming with delight.

Upon learning from the staff that only two seats were left, Lucian didn’t cast a single glance my way as he took Ophelia’s hand and hopped onto the ride. 

When the Ferris wheel returned twenty minutes later, he scoured the entire mall, but I was nowhere to be found.

At eight that night, I exited my room with my bags in hand, leaving behind a note that simply stated, “Breakup.” 

Without a hint of hesitation, I stepped out, leaving everything behind.

When my phone rang at eleven, I discovered it was Lucian calling. I was in the living room, engrossed in conversation with my parents, completely oblivious to the ringing.

An hour later, he called again. I dimmed my screen, powered off my phone, and slipped into bed, surrendering to sleep until noon the following day.

When I finally turned my phone back on, I was taken aback to see more than ten missed calls. With a heavy heart, I opened WhatsApp, ready to face the inevitable.

There, Lucian, usually so composed, had unleashed a flurry of messages, revealing a rare impatience.

[What’s with the key and note?]

[Did you really forget my birthday? Is ignoring my calls and texts your idea of fun?]

[Savannah, I’m giving you one hour to return here, or don’t bother coming back at all.]

I noted that the last message had been sent three hours earlier.

A wave of relief surged through me as I deleted Lucian’s contact from my phone.

Just then, a gentle knock echoed at the door, and my mother stepped in. Her warm smile brightened the room as she cradled a steaming cup of milk.

“Savannah, you know how sensitive your stomach is. Drink this while it’s still warm,” she urged, her voice soothing.

Even though I had arrived unannounced the night before, dragging my luggage behind me, my parents didn’t press for details; they simply embraced me with their unwavering care. 

I wrapped my arms around my mother’s arm, feeling a sting in my nose as emotions threatened to spill over.

Mom,” I began, a hint of excitement in my voice, “I found an apartment I really like. It’s small but just enough to keep me cozy.”

Mom’s smile widened, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. “Then go for it! How much do you still need? I’ll cover the difference.”

I shook my head, determined to assure her I had it all under control. 

But she insisted, transferring me $28,000, saying, “A girl with property and savings knows true security.”

With the funds in hand, I arranged to meet the landlord on Monday to sign the contract.

That evening, Dad treated us to a delightful dinner and topped it off with a creamy cake to celebrate my belated birthday.

As I sat before the dancing flames of the candles, I closed my eyes, wishing for nothing but my parents’ happiness and good health.

But just as I extinguished the flames, an unexpected message popped up on my screen.