“Drink it and get some rest. Tomorrow we can go see a movie together. The New Year releases are supposed to be really good,” William said, his tone dripping with false cheer.

I didn’t have the energy to argue, so I replied dismissively, “Fine.”

“I’ll check if my parents want to join us,” I added casually.

“No need,” he quickly interjected. “People their age wouldn’t enjoy movies. It’s better if it’s just us younger ones.”

The next day, I was running a bit late after packing up a few things. When I finally reached the car, I froze at the sight in front of me—Anne was already sitting in the front passenger seat.

Expressionless, I pointed at her and asked, “Why are you sitting in the front?”

That’s MY seat. She couldn’t possibly not know that.

Anne turned to me, her face immediately adopting a pitiful, innocent expression. “Claire, I get carsick. I’ve always had to sit in the front to avoid it,” she said sweetly, even reaching for the door handle as if to get out. “I’ll switch with you right away.”

Before she could, William stopped her, grabbing her arm. “You get carsick, so you should stay in the front. Claire doesn’t.”

“Get in the car already,” he added impatiently. “We’ll miss the start of the movie.”

I watched the exchange in icy silence, said nothing and climbed into the back seat.

The entire drive was cloaked in an awkward, suffocating silence. None of us spoke.

At the theater, the movie turned out to be unbearably dull. As it dragged on, my eyelids grew heavy and I found myself dozing off.

As someone nearby stood up to go to the restroom, they accidentally bumped into me. I turned my head instinctively—and there it was again. Hidden by the dim light of the movie, William and Anne were passionately kissing, completely lost in their own world.

After the movie ended, I headed straight for the restroom. Anne followed me in.

The anger and humiliation I had been suppressing for so long finally erupted. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Fixing her with a fiery glare, I demanded, “Why are you sneaking around with William behind my back? What the hell is wrong with you?”

She met my gaze with an unsettling calm, a hint of smugness in her eyes. “You two can’t get married,” she said, her tone sharp and unapologetic. “He’s already cheated on you. Even if he says he loves you, a man like that will never be faithful.”

Her words set my blood boiling. My voice rose as I shouted, “And whose fault is that? If it weren’t for YOU, he wouldn’t have turned into this!”

Blinded by rage, I reached out and grabbed her hair, yanking hard as we tumbled into a furious struggle.

Hearing the commotion, William burst into the restroom. His eyes darted between us, his brows furrowed in frustration.

“What the hell are you two doing?” he barked. Grabbing my arm, he yanked me back.

“Claire Loft, look at yourself! You’re acting like a complete lunatic. Do you even realize how embarrassing you are right now? You look like nothing but a shameless shrew!”

His words hit like a slap in the face, leaving me speechless as my fury clashed with a deep, gut-wrenching pain.

My hand froze mid-action and it was only then I noticed the glaring red scratch on her face.

When we got home, my family naturally asked about it. Anne, with a quiet voice, brushed it off, “Oh, I got scratched while feeding a stray cat.”

William didn’t give me a chance to react. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into the bedroom, his tone filled with frustration and blame.

“Claire, what’s wrong with you these days? Why are you always picking on Anne?”

Before I could even open my mouth to explain, he cut me off, “Stay here and think about what you’ve done.”

With that, he grabbed his coat, left with Anne and rushed her to the hospital. He didn’t come home that night.

I lay in bed, my mind swirling with memories. I thought about the sweet words he used to say, the tender moments we had shared, the way he once cared for me. Looking back now, it felt like a ridiculous farce—none of it was real.

We had been together since my sophomore year of college. To be with him, I had made sacrifices. I turned down a much better job offer and moved to his city, believing with all my heart that it was the start of our happiness.

But now, it was painfully clear: it had all been a lie. He had been deceiving me all along.

That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up with a notification—Anne had posted a new update on her social media.

[Got scratched by a crazy cat, but thankfully, someone was there to take care of me.]

The post included a blurry photo of a man’s silhouette, but that familiar figure—who else could it be but William?

The comment section was flooded with congratulatory messages like [Wishing you two eternal happiness!] The sight of it all made my stomach churn.

I couldn’t bear it any longer. Glancing at the calendar, I realized it was only the seventh day of the New Year. Without a second thought, I booked a flight back to the capital city—the place where William and I had bought an apartment together.

I needed to pack my things and put an end to this relationship once and for all.

When he came home and realized I was gone, his calls started pouring in. “Claire, where are you? The engagement’s in ten days!”

Hearing his voice filled me with nothing but bitterness and anger. I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.

“William, you’ve let me down in ways I never thought possible.”

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “Do you remember what I once told you? If you ever betrayed me, you’d never see me or have any connection to me again. Not in this lifetime.”

With that, I hung up without hesitation.

I then gathered all our photos, the ones I had once cherished as precious memories. Each snapshot now felt like a needle stabbing into my heart.

I found the love letters he had written me, each one brimming with sweet promises. I also pulled out the scrapbook I had painstakingly crafted, a journal of our relationship that documented every little moment we had shared.

Once symbols of love, these keepsakes now only served as painful reminders of the betrayal that had shattered everything.

I carried everything into the yard and watched as the flames slowly consumed them. The fire crackled and burned, but inside me, emotions swirled—anger, heartbreak and a bitter sense of closure.

Next, I gathered every single thing he had ever given me and tossed them into the trash without a second thought.

I couldn’t help but think back to the early days, when he was trying so hard to win me over. Every day, he’d send me a love letter through my roommate and soon enough, my desk drawer was overflowing with them.

Eventually, I gathered them all into a box, handling each one carefully, as if they were priceless treasures. To me, they were the embodiment of our love—a testament to a bond I thought would last forever.

Now, as I looked at them, they weren’t symbols of love at all. They were just reminders of how naïve I’d been.

As I continued packing, I came across something unexpected in the drawer of his nightstand—a bag.

Curiosity and unease churned in my stomach as I opened it. Inside, I found a pile of train tickets and plane tickets. One by one, I flipped through them, noticing most were for trips to Chafbury.

My heart sank further as I reached the bottom of the bag. There, I found photos—photos of him and Anne together. Some were ordinary couple pictures, but others were intimate, inappropriate and disgusting.

The dates on the photos matched the travel dates on the tickets.

Chafbury—the city where Anne worked.

All those “business trips” he’d claimed to take? They were nothing but excuses to meet Anne and carry on their affair.

My hands trembled as I held the damning evidence. The betrayal I had tried so hard to deny was staring me in the face, undeniable and cruel.