Emma's POV

"Uhm, Jason, look, Emma's here," Ava said, her voice dripping with sweetness.

Jason turned his head, and for a split second, I saw panic flash across his face. But just as quickly, he masked it with a practiced calm.

"I was just helping Ava... wipe her body. She slipped, you know how her health is..." he stammered, trying to cover up his lie, but it only made my stomach churn.

"Don’t lie to me," I snapped. "I’m not stupid."

A surge of anger boiled up from deep within me, and before I could stop myself, my hand shot out, slapping him hard across the face.

"You two are naked in each other’s arms, just 'wiping each other down'? Jason, do you really think I’m blind?"

"Jason! Are you okay?" Ava suddenly threw on a bathrobe, rushing to him with feigned concern, her hand gently caressing his red cheek as if it were all too much for her to handle.

"Emma, please, don’t be mad. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have come here... I shouldn’t have..."

Watching her play the victim made me feel sick to my stomach.

She was the one who destroyed everything between us.

Now, was she pretending to be innocent?

The hypocrisy was unbearable.

"Cut the act!" I hissed. "You knew he was engaged, yet you still went after him. You’re nothing but a shameless homewrecker."

Ava seemed taken aback, retreating behind Jason and starting to sob. "Jason, I’m so scared..."

Then, before I could process what was happening, Jason shoved me hard, sending me crashing to the ground. My head hit the cold tile with a jarring thud.

"Emma, are you done yet?" he snapped.

"I told you! Ava and I haven’t done anything! Why can’t you stop acting crazy?"

Then, without warning, he slapped me across the face. The pain spread like wildfire, and I covered my cheek, still in shock.

Was this really the man I had loved for seven years?

My heart felt like it was frozen like I had fallen into an icy pit, and every breath I took felt sharp and bitter.

"Jason, we're done! Let's forget about the wedding. I’m not marrying you anymore!" I shouted, my voice shaking with hurt and anger.

Jason seemed to brush it off as if it were nothing more than a tantrum. He sneered, then casually scooped Ava into his arms and started toward the door.

I struggled to push myself up from the floor, the pain in my head making everything blur. My vision wavered in and out of focus.

How pathetic.

I was still hoping, still holding on to the faintest hope that he would turn around and explain himself.

"Jason, stop right there!" I called out, my voice desperate.

He paused, turned around, and gave me a look full of disdain like I was beneath him. "Emma, stop making a scene. The more you act like this, the more I’ll hate you."

Tears began to fall without warning. They felt hot against my cold skin, and I could taste the bitterness on my lips.

I fought to stand, my legs unsteady as I stumbled toward the mirror.

The reflection staring back at me was unrecognizable: messy hair, pale skin, eyes swollen from crying. I looked like a mess—nothing like the confident woman I once was.

I had been with Jason for seven years.

From elementary school to college, we were inseparable. Everyone saw us as the perfect couple, destined to get married right after graduation.

I gave up my chance to study abroad for him, chose to stay in the city, and dedicated my whole life to building a future with him.

I thought our love was unbreakable. I thought he was my rock. I thought...

But now, it was all just an illusion. A ridiculous dream.

Seven years. Over a thousand days and nights. I gave him my heart, my youth—everything. And for what?

I had been such a fool.

Emma's POV

I stumbled out of the bathroom, everything around me blurring as I tried to steady myself. Leaning against the wall for support, I slowly made my way to the living room and collapsed onto the couch.

Jason, however, was still in the other room, trying to comfort Ava as if nothing had happened. "Hey, hey, Ava, stop crying," he said gently. "It’s all Emma’s fault. Let’s just forget about her."

"Get some rest. Tomorrow, we’re going to the amusement park," he added, his tone soft and reassuring.

I felt my energy draining, both physically and emotionally. I didn’t want to fight anymore.

I was just... so tired.

From the room, Ava’s delicate voice floated toward me. "Jason, I’m a bit hungry..."

Jason’s reply was gentle. "What do you want to eat? I’ll make it for you."

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Grabbing my bag, I stormed out of the door, the night air cooled against my face, but it couldn’t shake the chill in my heart.

...

Memories flooded my mind, crashing over me like a tidal wave. The sweet past now felt like sharp knives, stabbing me repeatedly in the chest.

Jason had always struggled with his stomach. Because he couldn’t cook, I took it upon myself to care for him—making fresh meals for him three times a day. His stomach couldn’t handle spicy food, so I gave it up, even though I loved chili.

He liked fish, so I bought the freshest catch every day, even though I was allergic to the smell.

I treated him like a mother would, making sure every little detail was perfect. But now, looking back, I see how foolish I was.

He could cook. He knew how.

But he pretended to be helpless, using me like a free maid, taking my care for granted.

I opened our chat history—seven years’ worth of messages.

They used to sparkle with the happiness and sweetness of our love. But now, all they did was leave a bitter taste in my mouth.

I scrolled to a conversation from a month ago.

[Emma, I’m working overtime tonight. Can’t have dinner with you.]

[Emma, I’ve got a client tonight. Can’t go to the movies.]

[Emma, I’m busy tonight...]

A string of "can’ts," each one landing like a slap to my face, harsh and unrelenting.

I kept scrolling, backtracking to two months ago.

[Jason, you’ve been working overtime a lot lately. You need to take care of yourself.]

[I know, Emma. You’re so good.]

[Don’t overwork yourself. Come back early.]

[Okay, I will.]

I continued scrolling—three months ago, four months ago.

The contrast between my care and his indifference was so stark it almost hurt. And then, it hit me: six months ago, Jason had started pulling away.

He’d been working late, and going on business trips more often. Back then, I was naïve enough to think it was all for us—that he was working hard for our future. I understood, I sympathized.

But little did I know, all that 'hard work' was just him sneaking around with Ava.

I kept scrolling, reaching messages from a year ago.

[Jason, I saw Ava today... she seems to have feelings for you...]

[Don’t overthink it. She’s just a friend.]

[But...]

[Emma, trust me.]

At the time, I truly believed him. I thought I was just being paranoid, imagining things. Now, I realized how wrong I had been. I had been so blind.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. When I opened them again, the sadness in my eyes had been replaced by a calm determination.

My phone vibrated.

Right there, Jason’s name flashed on the screen.

[Emma, I’m sorry. I was wrong earlier. I shouldn’t have hit you. Please don’t be mad. Come back... it’s cold outside.]

His message stung, but I couldn’t help but feel a cold resolve setting in.

Emma's POV

I scoffed and quickly typed a reply: [No need, I’m staying at a hotel tonight.]

It didn’t take long for Jason to respond.

[Emma, don’t make a scene. What hotel are you staying at so late? Be a good girl and come back.]

I paused for a moment, but with all the resolve I had left, I typed: [Jason, let’s break up.]

The wedding was just a month away. Invitations had already gone out, the photos had already been taken, the banquet had been booked, and everything was set. I was just waiting to become a bride.

Now, it all felt like a cruel joke.

Out of nowhere, a black Maybach pulled up in front of me. The window slowly rolled down, revealing a familiar face.

It was Chase.

He quickly stepped out, his face etched with concern. "Emma, are you okay? That jerk Jason, how could he hit you?"

As he spoke, he removed his coat and draped it over my shoulders.

The faint scent of his cologne—something unfamiliar but comforting—brought a small amount of peace to my shattered heart.

"I... I’m planning to break off my engagement with Jason," I said, my voice a little shaky but firm.

Chase stopped in his tracks for a brief moment, a flicker of surprise passing over his face before it quickly settled into a calm, concerned expression.

He then asked, "Emma, are you really sure? This isn’t something small."

Taking a deep breath, I answered with more conviction than I felt, "I’m sure. I don’t want to be lied to anymore, and I can’t keep wasting my time."

...

The next morning, I called the wedding planner and canceled everything—everything. I also informed all the guests.

Emily, the wedding planner, nearly cried when I told her over the phone. She went on about penalties, losses, and how "absurd" it was that I was backing out at the last minute.

I cut her off, coldly giving her Jason’s card number and telling her to deduct whatever was needed.

Once I hung up, the world around me felt quieter, like the pressure had finally let up.

Next came the dreaded task of notifying the guests. I created a group chat, added everyone, and typed:

[To my friends and family, I just wanted to let you know that Jason and I have called off the wedding. Sorry if this causes any inconvenience. Thanks for understanding.]

I set the group to [Do Not Disturb] and watched the notifications light up my phone screen, but I didn’t care.

I didn’t even flinch.

I knew what people would think. Most would assume I’d lost my mind. One month away from the wedding, and I was canceling it like it was nothing. Yeah, madness seemed about right.

Sure enough, Jason called, exactly as I expected. But instead of feeling even an ounce of guilt, it only fueled my anger.

I answered the phone with a bitter laugh. "What is it, Jason?"

He sighed. "Emma, can we... talk? I know you're really angry, but some things can’t be explained over the phone. Can we meet? Same place, the hotpot restaurant we used to go to?"

I hesitated, but deep down, I knew I needed closure. I agreed.

...

Later that evening, I put on delicate makeup, slipped into a bright red dress, and wore heels that clicked confidently as I walked.

I arrived at the entrance of the hotpot restaurant, and there he was—Jason, already seated at the table.

At first, I thought it was just him, but then, to my shock, I saw Ava walking out of the bathroom, looking like she owned the place.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice laced with disbelief.

Ava was practically glued to Jason’s arm, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Jason said he wanted to bring me here for his favorite hotpot. You know this place, don’t you, Emma?"

I couldn’t help but scoff. "Yeah, I’m very familiar with it. After all, Jason and I came here countless times. Unlike some people who probably don’t even know what the signature dish is."

Ava’s smile faltered for a split second, but she quickly recovered, tightening her grip on Jason’s arm as if to stake her claim.