For Personal Gain, He Chooses to Waste Our Days Together

Matteo was getting married, yet I, his official girlfriend had no idea.

Three days ago, I was waiting for him downstairs at his training base when his assistant ran out and handed me an envelope. "Matteo said he couldn't come to see you, so he asked me to give this to you, Ariana."

Inside the envelope was a bank card and a note with messy handwriting. [The pin is your birthday. Let's end it up and not bring up the past anymore.]

Matteo Baldwin and I had known each other for thirteen years, from being classmates in middle school to being apart in college.

Then, when he became a professional e-sports athlete, I followed him to three different cities.

He promised he would take me back to Syrena once he won the world championship, to see the sunrise on Neverland and to eat at the barbeque skewer he used to visit when he was a child.

Last year, on the night of the world championship finals, he raised the trophy on stage and said to the camera, "Thank you to the most important person in my life, wait for me to come home."

I thought he was talking about me.

Until last month, I accidentally saw his Instagram post.

Under the post he had set to be visible only to me, a girl commented: [Once you come back, we'll go get married.]

Her profile picture was Matteo's team logo and her nickname was "Matteo's Little Baby."

I didn't confront him, I just quietly came to him, trying to give him one last chance.

Now it seemed I was just being unreasonable.

***

The phone finished charging, powered on and a flood of messages came in.

Matteo's best friend sent dozens of voice messages, the last one with a tearful tone. [Ariana! Stop being silly! Matteo is a jerk!]

[He's been with the daughter of the Fiery Devils team's investor for a long time!]

I replied: [I know.]

I blocked all of his contact information. Then, I opened a ride-hailing app and typed his address.

I was not here to settle scores with him, just to get what was rightfully mine back.

That diary I had kept in for thirteen years, filled with all our promises.

The taxi navigated streets washed clean by the typhoon. Banyan tree roots hung, dotted with rain droplets still clinging to them.

His family, the Baldwins, lived in a detached house in the old town, the place where I spent countless winter and summer vacations, accompanying him.

I entered the familiar password and the security door clicked open.

The furnishings inside were almost exactly the same as when I left three years ago.

On the light gray sofa lay my half-finished scarf.

On the coffee table lay a photo of us from college, where I smiled with my eyes crinkled and nestled beside him.

I went straight to the bedroom on the second-floor and opened the bottom drawer of the wardrobe.

Inside were several of my professional books, a metal box full of ticket stubs and the first birthday present he gave me years ago. A hand-sewn cloth rabbit with frayed ears from wear.

The moment my fingertips touched the metal box, familiar footsteps sounded behind me.

"What are you doing here?" Matteo's voice carried a faint, almost imperceptible trace of unease.

He was wearing a black hoodie. His hair was a little messy.

His eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn't had a good rest in a long time.

I didn't turn around, continuing to pack my things into the canvas bag I had brought. "Come get my things."

"Just come and leave?" His voice turned cold. "Anna, do you really not want to see me?"

I finally turned around and stared at his face, a face that was both familiar and unfamiliar.

Thirteen years had etched marks on his face.

He had shed his boyish naiveté and gained a more mature, shrewd edge. Only the cunning in his eyes remained exactly the same as when he tricked me into doing his homework back in middle school.

"What do you want to see me for?" I asked calmly, a slight smirk playing on my lips.

"Ah, should I congratulate you on your marriage? Or should I be grateful to you for using my birthday as your bank card PIN to give me this 'breakup fee'?"

His face paled in an instant. He stepped forward to take my hand, but I dodged him.

"It's not what you think," he said urgently.

"Anna, don't listen to others' nonsense, it's all a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?" I laughed.

I took my phone out of my bag and opened the screenshot of the Instagram post that was only visible to me.

"Once you come back, we'll get married, this, is this a misunderstanding? Matteo, do you think I'm foolish?"

He stared at the phone screen, his Adam's apple bobbing, his eyes flickering.

"That's ... that's the investor's daughter, Yvette O'Brien. She's been pestering me. That's her comment. I didn't respond."

"Didn't respond?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Then why didn't you delete it? Why did you set it to be visible only to me?"

"I was just afraid you'd overthink it!" His voice rose a few decibels, tinged with impatience.

"At that time, I was preparing for the world championship, training until dawn every day. I thought I'd explain everything to you after the tournament and you'd understand."

I felt like my heart was being gripped, throbbing with intense pain.

"Matteo, I understand how hard you train. I understand you carry the hopes of the entire team. That's why I accompanied you all the way from Broughton to Solsticea and then to Glothaven. I gave up my job back home, gave up a stable life, just to be closer to you."

"I know you don't have time for me. So, I celebrate anniversaries alone. I blow out my birthday candles alone. I go to the hospital alone when I'm sick. But what about you? Have you ever understood me?"