Company team building.

Sophia Brown drew the dare and kissed my boyfriend of seven years.

Michael Smith paused for a moment, then held the back of her head and kissed her back.

Silence fell around us as everyone turned to look at me.

They thought I would make a scene.

Instead, I led the applause. "Nice kiss, do it again."

When Michael turned to look at me, his body stiffened.

Sophia panted in his arms and said, "Michael, it still tastes the same."

A flash of confusion and anger crossed Michael's eyes, as if he had misheard.

His expression quickly cleared up, and he pushed Sophia away.

He explained to me. "Sophia and I are just friends. I mistook her for you just now..."

Michael was the big boss; no one dared to speak against him.

Someone tried to excuse him. "Mr. Smith had too much to drink, it is not surprising he mistook someone."

I looked at Sophia's glossy lips, her big eyes and thick eyebrows.

She did look somewhat similar to me.

She smiled provocatively at me, as if saying, "So what if you have been with him for years? Now that I am back, he is mine!"

I smirked, "The mood is already set. Should I book you a king-size room?"

Michael's expression changed.

"Rachel Taylor! It was just a game, do not take it too seriously!"

"Sophia and I broke up years ago; we have nothing between us. She just joined our company, and I am the only one she can rely on. Can you stop being so petty?"

Everyone's expressions turned subtle at his words.

We were all professionals here, each of us was fighting our own battles.

No one ever heard of someone being unable to survive in the workplace without a crutch."

Sophia smiled gently, "Michael, how could you say that about Rachel? She is not the type to hold grudges, right? Rachel."

I remained silent.

Everyone watched us with strange looks.

It was clear Michael was biased towards Sophia. No one understood why he, who was at fault, was the one getting angry.

I saw the knowing look in Michael's eyes.

It was as if he anticipated I was about to cause a scene.

In the past, any encounter with Sophia would set me off like a firecracker.

Michael seemed used to it, watching coldly as I went hysterical.

Afterward, he would casually send a gift, say a few words of concern, and I would foolishly forgive everything.

I had lost count of how many times we had fought because of Sophia since she returned.

During our worst fights, I even left home.

A single text from him asking where his favorite tie was would coax me back.

Every silent treatment ended with me, alone in the dark, calming myself before humbly seeking him out to apologize.

In this relationship, I loved too much, and it doomed me to be the loser.

After all, the one falling in love first was always at a disadvantage.

In college, Michael was the campus heartthrob.

It was common to see art school seniors and juniors blocking his path, just to ask for his contact information.

But he refused everyone without a frown.

Yet this aloof prince suddenly said to me. "Would you go out with me?"

I could not believe it. The campus prince became my boyfriend.

I felt like an unknown nobody who suddenly found a treasure one day.

I was ecstatic and terrified that it was all a dream.

It only felt real when I saw his contact in my phone.

I was worried that he would get carried away and forget about me in the blink of an eye.

So, I shared my daily life with him and brought him meals, trying to strengthen our relationship.

But his reactions were always indifferent.

I did not find this strange; aloof people are cold to everyone.

I believed that as long as I kept being passionate, treating him the same for ten years, he would eventually warm up to me.

But it turned out, he was not cold to everyone.

He just reserved his warmth for someone else.

The people around me nudged me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I realized everyone was looking at me.

Michael said in a low voice. "Rachel, if you want to make a scene, do it at home. Do not ruin the fun here."

I did not want to stay and be a third wheel either.

"Then I will head back first."

Without looking at Michael's face, dark enough to drip ink, I grabbed my bag and stood up.

I heard Sophia's voice behind me. "Michael, Rachel is not mad at me again, is she?"

Michael comforted her gently. "No, she just has this weird temper."

Without me, the atmosphere quickly livened up again.

As I closed the door, I saw Michael and Sophia drinking arm-in-arm.

Michael had never shown me such enthusiasm in public.

Watching their intimacy, I would not be surprised if they went to a hotel room tonight.

After all, they looked more like a loving couple.

Under the guise of friendship, they relived the sweetness of their past romance.

Those subtle, intriguing ambiguities tested my patience.

When the weather got cold, Sophia would wear Michael's coat.

When carpooling, Sophia insisted on sitting in the front seat, feeding Michael snacks.

They played their parts perfectly, claiming I was overreacting when I got upset.

Until tonight, when under the influence of the game and alcohol, they kissed publicly at the party.

This had never happened before.

Michael believed I loved him and could not leave him, so he acted recklessly.

Before I left the restaurant, a colleague from my department texted me.

[Rachel, you just left like that? Are you not going to keep an eye on Mr. Smith? After you left, they became even more brazen!]

I silently read the message.

Could I really control him?

After taking care of him for so many years, I was exhausted.

After leaving the hotel, the chilly wind blew through my hair, also blowing away my lingering ailments.

I turned off my phone and put it in my bag.

Wrapping my coat tighter, I walked into the cold wind.

Suddenly, I realized that I might be able to stop loving Michael!

I returned to the villa.

This was the first property Michael bought after his startup succeeded.

We designed it together, arranging everything bit by bit.

The coffee table in the living room had my favorite flowers.

The shelves by the sofa held his favorite books.

I had long considered this place my home.

Just like I loved Michael, I loved this place.

I chuckled at myself.

He was lost in his romance, not needing my love.

I went upstairs, took a shower, and fell into bed to sleep.

Around three in the morning, I heard some banging sounds downstairs.

Michael was back.

I thought he would not return tonight.

Usually, when he drank heavily while socializing, he came home late at night.

I would always leave a light on in the living room, ready to make sobering soup and run a hot bath for him.

Maybe the sudden lack of light made him uncomfortable, and he tripped.

Michael pushed open the door, expecting my usual hysterics.

But he was met with silence.

For the first time, he was wrong.

This time, I remained calm throughout.

It did not seem like myself to be so calm.

Sensing something off, Michael stood by the bed.

He reeked of alcohol, mixed with the jasmine scent Sophia liked.

"Rachel?"

He called my name, but I pretended to sleep.

He watched me for a few minutes, then snorted coldly, stumbling out of the room.

He slammed the door, shaking the entire villa.

I knew he was unhappy about me ignoring him.

He could be as angry as he wanted.

Because he believed I would always soothe him.

The next day, after I finished breakfast, Michael came downstairs, rubbing his temples.

The headache was a hangover symptom.

I felt bad for him and had learned to make several hangover soups just for him.

Without looking up, he instructed me, "Make another sandwich. Sophia likes it."

How amusing.

He really took me for their maid.

Michael sat at the table, noticing it was empty.

Not only had I not made anything for Sophia, but there was also no breakfast for him either.

He watched me carrying empty plates in and out of the kitchen and rarely spoke.

"I drank a lot last night. Sophia drove me home. With her driving skills, we nearly had an accident."

I was packing my lunch to take to the office and absentmindedly replied, "Oh, really? That is great."

He frowned at my indifferent response.

In the past, if I heard he had almost been in a car accident, I would be frantic, insist on taking him for a full-body checkup, nearly tying him to my waist.

He did not expect me to be so nonchalant.

"Stop being difficult and make breakfast for Sophia and me. You can ride shotgun later, okay?"

His tone was a mix of helplessness and condescension.

To him, I was just being troublesome.

I paused and looked at him.

Since Sophia joined the company, Michael took a detour every day to pick her up.

At first, Sophia and I fought fiercely over the front seat.

Michael put an end to it, saying, "Sophia gets the front seat; she gets carsick."

When he gave up the front seat, he never considered that I might get carsick too.

Now, he treated the front seat like a handout, but I did not care anymore.

"No thanks, I will take the subway to work."

He was silent, probably forgetting when I started taking the subway.

Waiting for Sophia to finish her makeup made us all late, affecting my project schedule, so I stopped joining them.

Watching their flirting also made me uncomfortable.

As I continued to pack, Michael said, "I might be home late tonight."

"Okay."

"It is Sophia's birthday. She does not have many friends in Houston, so she asked me to have a drink with her."

"Okay."

I picked up my bag and headed to the door.

"Rachel!" Michael called out heavily.

I turned back in confusion.

He looked at me in disbelief.

"Why are you not stopping me this time?"

I tilted my head, wondering what had gotten into him today.

I glanced at my watch. "I am running late. We will talk later."

I saw him standing there, feeling stunned.

This was how he always treated me.

Whenever we had unresolved issues, he remained calm, making me feel like I was performing a solo act.

I tried to provoke him to get his attention.

He would always find an excuse to leave, sometimes not even bothering with an excuse, just slamming the door and leaving me to deal with my emotions alone.

As I closed the door, I could not help but think that avoiding problems felt pretty good.

No wonder he did it so often.

Today, Michael treated the whole company to desserts.

Colleagues were guessing, "Did we win another project? Why is Mr. Smith so happy?"

"Do you think we reached the annual target early?"

I laughed. They were all wrong.

Today was Sophia's birthday.

He wanted to treat one person, so he used the excuse of treating the whole company to desserts.

Maybe it was to make Sophia happy.

But it did not matter to me anymore.

I did not expect to receive a message from Michael that afternoon.

[How was the little cake?]

When I saw this message, I was momentarily stunned.

Was he texting the wrong person?

I looked at my desk, seeing the mango cake with melted cream.

Only then did I notice it was from my favorite dessert shop, not cheap and with a long wait.

Michael sure was generous with Sophia.

I did not plan to reply, but another message popped up.

[It is your favorite blueberry flavor.]

I chuckled. He did text the wrong person.

The cake on my desk was mango flavored.

The blueberry one he initially sent me had been swapped by Sophia.

She came to my desk. "Oh? I wondered where my blueberry cake went. It was here."

"This is Michael's special pick for me. It is their signature flavor."

After saying that, she tossed a box onto my desk.

I had not touched it all day.

Now it was inedible, and I was allergic to mango.

I threw it into the trash.

When I looked up, I saw Michael standing in front of me, staring intently.

He glanced at me, then at the trash can.

His lips tightened into a straight line.

Michael's office was on a higher floor. He rarely came to the project department. I wondered why he was here.

The answer quickly became clear.

Sophia happily clung to Michael's arm.

"Michael, I told you to wait for me in the garage. Coming to the office is not a good look."

Before I could speak, the people around us made disapproving noises.

These were people I had mentored, naturally disapproving of Sophia's actions.

Michael's cold gaze silenced them.

After leaving the office, Michael did not come home all night.

Before, I would have been paranoid, calling him incessantly, demanding to know where he was.

But this time, I did not.

I went to bed and went to work as usual.

To my surprise, he did not show up at the office the next day, and neither did Sophia.

That night, Michael returned home as I was finishing dinner and heading upstairs.

He grabbed my hand and asked, "Are you not going to ask where I have been?"

I looked at him calmly. "How do you want me to ask?"

He suddenly got angry. "Rachel, you did not use to be like this."

I thought for a moment and nodded, "Yeah, you used to be like me."

He lowered his head and softened his tone. "I drank a lot last night and slept at the hotel. Nothing happened between Sophia and me."

Then, looking somewhat aggrieved, he added, "I drank so much, and you did not even call me."

I did not know what game he was playing.

He used to find my calls annoying.

His clumsy attempt to cover up was amusing.

The next day, I received a message from Sophia.

It was a pregnancy test report, showing she was eight weeks pregnant.

There was also a photo of Michael accompanying Sophia for a prenatal check-up.

I froze in place.