Blood rushed to my head and my cheeks began to burn. My head ached again and there was a slight ringing in my ears.

Seeing my pale face, William put away his emotions and frantically searched for my medication. "Haven't you been to the hospital? Did you miss taking your medicine last night?"

I gently raised my hand, wanting to tell him the medicine was in the drawer beside me. William's phone suddenly rang on the table. The contact name was "Grape." William didn't like eating fruit.

I always had to coax and trick him into eating some. But there was one exception that he loved. Grapes.

He looked at me, hesitated for a moment, then picked up the phone and turned his back to me. "Hello, speak slowly. Okay, don't worry, I'm coming."

William took a deep breath, his back to me, clearly conflicted. "Do you know why her things exploded? She was trying to commit suicide. If something happened to her right under my nose, what good am I ... I really can't ignore her."

"But believe me, I have no feelings for her anymore." While saying these words, he never turned around. Like a hero driven by an overwhelming sense of duty.

Before leaving, he said softly, "Since you're sick, don't get so angry. It's bad for your health."

I couldn't even tell if he was seriously advising me. The living room was empty, just me.

Ignoring the cold sweat on my forehead, I used all my strength to pull open the drawer, took out the pills and swallowed them dry. Leaning on the coffee table for a long time, my mind gradually cleared.

I never told William that my condition was not optimistic, afraid it would make him sad. He always thought I had a simple headache. I had carefully planned how to prepare him psychologically, so he wouldn't be devastated by my departure. All those preparations felt meaningless at this moment.

I stared blankly out the window. My hand suddenly touched the moisture-proof paper at the bottom of the drawer. The texture felt strange. Frowning, I lifted the paper. Underneath was a concert ticket dated last December.

A cold chill spread through my heart. Last December. I remembered clearly, William said he had a business trip to Denver and couldn't spend Christmas with me.

When he came back, he brought a bunch of souvenirs to make up for it. I loved the small pink furnace from the Denver Museum. He proudly told me that many people couldn't get their hands on it, but he bought several different types.

I asked him, "Then why did you only bring back one? Where are the others?"

He laughed foolishly, "My colleagues took them. They’re bunch of wolves."

I mechanically walked into the room, rummaged through the drawers and found William's spare phone. He hadn't used it for a long time and many apps had logged out. Only a few were still logged in.

Among them was the order history I wanted to see. For that concert, he bought two tickets. A couple's package. They visited almost all of Denver during those days.

I kept checking. The movie ticket orders seemed endless. Some movies we watched together, some we didn't. But without exception, he bought two tickets for each. Various entertainment activities for two.

Escape rooms, pottery, concerts, plays. It was clear his life was very fulfilling. Clutching the phone, I leaned against the headboard. I couldn't understand how he managed it. To me, his work schedule seemed so regular.

Our relationship seemed so good. How did he manage to have such close interactions with another woman within the gaps of our love? When William returned, he brought a lot of groceries. He rushed into the bedroom to find me, excitedly saying he wanted to cook something good for me.

I threw the phone in front of him. William's face instantly darkened. Almost simultaneously, he angrily threw down the bags he was carrying and paced the room.

Finally, flushed with anger, he asked me, "Is it because I said she was my ex-girlfriend that you keep harping on this? I told you we have nothing going on!"

I looked at him indifferently. What kind of mindset did he have saying these things? Was he so addicted to playing the role of a faithful boyfriend that he deceived even himself?

I replied calmly, "You know I hate lies the most."

He replied, "I never lied to you. Everything I've told you is true!"

I insisted, "And what about the things you haven't said? Concealing part of the truth is also lying."

He tried to speak earnestly, "But those are my past. You can't erase someone's past."

I pointed to the dates, "We've been together for three years. How many movies have you seen with her in those three years? Do you want me to count them for you? Last year, you went to Denver with her. Do you think that's appropriate?"

William's voice grew louder, "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd ask so many questions. I really don't like it! After we broke up, we're just friends. If there's a movie you don't like, is it wrong to see it with a friend who does?"

"That concert too. Do you even know that singer?" I kept asking.

His eyes flashed with disdain. At that moment, I suddenly felt that arguing was pointless. He genuinely believed he was not at fault.

William, perhaps thinking his attacks weren't strong enough, suddenly said, "You're so sensitive and difficult, no wonder your parents don't want you."

All the blood in my body instantly froze. I grew up with my grandfather. The year my parents got divorced, I was still very young. They both wanted to move on with their new lives. Neither of them wanted to take a burden with them.

They lied to me, saying they were just too busy. They promised that when I got older, they would come back. Year after year, I waited, but no one ever came back. Years later, I no longer let it bother me. I just never expected that my pain would one day become a weapon for William to attack me with.

Until just yesterday, he was the warmest sunshine in my world. I turned to the door to change my shoes.

William softened his tone and asked, "Where are you going?"

I didn't answer, continuing to put on my shoes.

He grew anxious. "You... at least take your medicine with you. Come back early, I'll make dinner tonight."

As the door closed, a mist suddenly rose before my eyes. Back then, I was the one who pursued William. I liked his gentleness and humor, I was always happy with him. One day, he hugged me without saying a word.

The uncertain relationship made me anxious, so I took the initiative to break the ice. Unexpectedly, he rejected me. He said he only saw me as a friend. Though I was sad, I respected his feelings. We agreed to move on from this.

I stopped accepting his invitations and kept my distance. But he suddenly became more enthusiastic, started talking about topics I liked and got involved in my interests.

For many days, I woke up to find long messages from him sent late at night. I was very confused. I asked him, "Don't you understand what it means to move on? What do you really want?"

He called, his voice was stammering. "Do... do your words still count? If given the chance, I'd like to know you better. I mean, would you be my girlfriend?"

I confirmed with him many times. He said he rejected me before because he was actually very nervous. In his panic, he said foolish things. He regretted it right away. I really believed him at that time.

And over the years, with his considerate care, I never doubted him. Looking back now, all the signs were there. He had always been someone who enjoyed the game of ambiguity.

I sniffed, heading straight to the nursing home from the underground garage. When I arrived, Grandpa was playing chess with Casey. I pulled up a chair and sat beside Grandpa.

Casey scratched his head. "Isn't his birthday in a few days? Why are you here today? Did I get the date wrong?"

I had known Casey since university. After graduating, he didn't work in his field. Instead, he roamed around the nursing home. Which made sense, as this was the most famous nursing home in Colorado Springs, owned by his family.

Grandpa made a move, putting Casey in check. "Regina can come whenever she wants."

Grandpa's words made me laugh. I stayed at the nursing home for a few days, during which William called me many times. I didn't answer any of them.

Until I almost ran out of the medicine I had brought with me, I returned home while William was at work. Besides the medicine, I packed a few clothes in a suitcase. Suddenly, I heard a key turning in the door. My heart tightened.

The person opening the door hesitantly asked, "William? Is that you?"

It was his ex-girlfriend's voice! Why does she have a key to my house?

I quickly walked out of the room and she froze for a moment. But she quickly recovered her smiling demeanor. "Sorry, I heard some noise upstairs and thought William was back."

She walked familiarly into the kitchen, busying herself for a few minutes before bringing out two glasses of lemon water, looking every bit like the hostess and said, "I lived here for a few years, so I'm familiar with the place. William asked me to keep a key, I hope you don't mind. Do you want ice?"

I looked at her coldly and said, "Get out."

She stopped what she was doing and looked up at me. "You probably don't know. You two being together was thanks to me. I was the one who persuaded him to give it a try. It took a lot of effort before he agreed."

I tried to remain calm, but my heart was suddenly in knots.

Her condescending, indifferent tone made it feel like this relationship was something she had bestowed upon me. The woman in front of me took a sip from her glass, looking completely at ease.

She continued, "But don't worry, I was the one who initiated the breakup. The year we separated, my job was still unstable. William was worried about me, so he rented the apartment downstairs for me."

"The rent has always been paid by him. I wanted to repay him, but he refused." She got up and walked around the house, finally stopping in front of the fridge.

"This little pink stove from the Denver Museum, there's a flaw on the back. Did you notice? It wasn't intentional to leave the imperfect one for you, it's just that the others were indeed better looking. If you look carefully around this house, you'll find many Easter eggs from when we were together. I didn't expect him to keep them all." She gave an innocent yet malicious smile.

"I almost feel sorry for you."