Lucas' questioning tone was silenced by my cool, indifferent response, which seemed to catch in his throat. I ended the call just as the car arrived at my apartment complex.

After getting out, I noticed a flood of notifications from Lucas' work group chat. When I opened it, the unread message count was already showing 99+. At the top was a photo that Celine had posted of Lucas fixing her electrical wiring and plumbing.

[Who else has a boss this considerate?] She wrote. [I’d gladly devote my life to this company! Can I sign a lifetime contract?]

Below her post were comments from other employees, filled with envy and admiration.

[I’ve never seen the boss act like this. Didn’t the cleaning lady say he’s a neat freak? Doesn’t look like it here!]

[Oh my god, he looks so handsome without his suit! From now on, I’m dreaming about being Mrs. Haskins! Hands off, everyone!]

[This photo was posted by the future Mrs. Haskins. Snap out of it; working is your only destiny.]

Before he hired Celine, I used to help Lucas out with all these tasks without expecting anything in return. But after she joined and took over my role, I forgot to leave the group chat. After reading all the replies in the group, I deleted the record and exited the app. Now that I had made my decision to move on, seeing this preview of their life together didn’t hurt as much as I thought it might.

I recalled the early days when I’d just started at the company after graduation. Lucas used to share snippets of my work in the group chat all the time, sneaking photos of me making coffee or updating the schedule. It was obvious to everyone in the office that he liked me. With his love, even the daily grind felt a little sweeter, and his affection brought a spark to the dull work chat. But everything changed once Celine entered the picture. She took over all my responsibilities, and Lucas banned any mention of me in the group. He seemed drawn to her, openly and subtly.

One of my former colleagues, who had been close to me, once made a harmless comment that Celine wasn’t as capable as I’d been. Lucas immediately docked her an entire year’s bonus. Later, I secretly transferred her ten thousand dollars, hoping to prevent her from impulsively quitting.

When I returned to the place I’d called home for eight years but never truly belonged to, I started packing up my things. My gaze fell on a thick photo album filled with memories from the past decade. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I opened it and flipped through each page.

Each photo represented a gift Lucas had given me. Eight years ago, he told me he’d give me 9,999 surprises before we’d walk down the aisle together. He wanted to win my heart with sincerity, so I’d willingly become his wife. The album, custom-made to hold exactly 9,999 photos, now had just one blank page left. But in the end, it was all for nothing.

Taking the album downstairs to a quiet, open area, I lit a match and set it ablaze. I watched as each photo burned, turning slowly to ash, burying the last eight years of my life with it.

Lucas arrived to see me standing over the flames, his face drained of color. He rushed over, pushing me aside to try and salvage what he could. But the heat was too intense for him to reach in. Within seconds, his hands turned red from the heat. Furious, he stomped on the burning album, trying to snuff out the flames as they devoured each photo.

“What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy? All these memories—gone because of you!” he shouted.

I struggled to my feet, brushing the dust from my pajamas. The fire cast a warm glow on my face, but my voice was ice-cold.

“It’s fine. I opened the album and saw bugs crawling inside, maybe cockroaches, so I burned it.”

Seeing my calm demeanor, Lucas finally realized he might’ve overreacted. Taking a deep breath, he softened his tone.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry—I got a little too worked up. We’ve been collecting those photos for ten years. Weren’t we going to share them at our wedding? Why did you burn them?”

“If there were bugs, you could’ve waited for me to come back or at least messaged me. I would’ve taken care of it,” he added.

I didn’t bother looking at him. The man standing before me was no longer the boy who had once promised to protect me forever.

“You’ve been busy with work for ages, so I didn’t want to bother you with something so trivial.”

He stood beside me, gazing sadly at the ashes. This scene couldn’t have been more ironic—he was the one who destroyed our ten-year relationship for another woman, yet here he was, acting like he still cared.

I turned to go back inside, but he mistook my indifference for pouting and pulled me into his arms. The sickly-sweet scent of Black Opium cologne filled the air, making me sneeze repeatedly, but he didn't let go, seemingly overwhelmed with remorse.

“Are you feeling sick?” he asked, his voice tender. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been neglecting you lately. Once things settle down, let’s retake those photos, alright? We’ll replace what was lost—double it, even!”

If it was before, hearing these words might’ve softened me. But after a trip to the ER and realizing he’d forgotten my severe allergy in favor of another woman, I could no longer pretend. I didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore.

When he finally released me, I pulled away with resolve, and said, “No need to apologize. If you really want to make it up to me, maybe you could throw me a proper birthday party.”

Due to my cream allergy, I was always missing from my own celebrations. But since I’d be leaving soon, I wanted to experience at least one birthday with him by my side.

Surprisingly, he seemed rattled by my simple request. He nodded, but before he could respond further, his phone rang. Glancing at the screen, he quickly explained, “It’s something urgent from work. Don’t wait for me tonight—I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

As he spoke, he was already backing away. By the time he finished, he was meters away, practically running.

Actually, I was aware that it was the ringtone exclusively for Celine, but I didn’t confront him about his lie.

The next morning, people arrived to set up the party, and among them was Celine herself. She claimed to be there to oversee the arrangements since she’d designed the setup. But by the end of the day, I noticed that the decorations were just a simpler version of her own birthday party.

When the workers left, she sauntered over, a smug smile on her face.

“Well, everyone’s been hard at work all day. What do you think? Does it suit your taste?”

As I looked at her, my gaze darted to the necklace she wore—a piece I had lost. I squinted my eyes as I intoned coldly, “A secondhand setup for a secondhand person. It suits you just fine.”

Hearing my words, Celine seemed offended, and without another word, she glanced to the side, picked up a crystal ornament, and smashed it to the floor. A shard cut her foot, and she began to cry pitifully.

Before I could react, Lucas stormed over and slapped me across the face.

“Enough with the tantrums! Celine took the day off to help with your party, and this is how you repay her?” he growled.

“If you don’t like it, then do it yourself!”

Without waiting for an explanation, he scooped Celine into his arms and rushed her out. I sat alone in the now-lifeless room, the silence around me growing heavy.

The next morning, no one had shown up for the party. Well, it was not surprising, really—Lucas had been my only friend for these ten years.

When the cake arrived, I opened the box, cut myself a small piece, and stuck a single candle in it. Closing my eyes, I made a simple wish. "May we never meet again."

I couldn’t even eat the cake because of my allergy. When my phone rang, signaling the end of my countdown, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out without looking back.

On the way to the airport, I sent Lucas one final message.

“Let’s end things here. There’s no need to keep in touch.”

Not even a breakup. Just a simple ending to ten years of my life.

As I turned off my phone before boarding, he was already calling me like a madman.