After all the trouble I went through to snag those two World Cup tickets, my boyfriend turned around and gave mine to his first love.

He had his arm around her, and he said it without a trace of shame.

"I promised I'd propose to you at the World Cup, that we'd finally cross the finish line after nine years together."

"But Bertie's dying. Her last wish is to go to the World Cup and love me one more time."

"She was my first. I can't just abandon her. So you'll wait a little longer."

I looked at his fingers laced tight through hers, and something bitter stung behind my eyes.

All these years, every promise he ever made me got hijacked by his first love.

I waited, and waited, until I'd become the joke of everyone we knew.

But this time, I didn't cry or cling the way I always had. I didn't even bother to expose the fact that her medical records were fake.

I just said, calmly, "I'm not waiting anymore."

He freed one hand to ruffle my hair, letting out a small scoff.

"Nine years already, and now you can't stand to wait?"

"Be good. Once I've seen Bertie off, I'll come back and marry you."

What he didn't know was that all the years I'd been willing to wait, it was only because I couldn't let him go.

Not anymore.

I pushed his hand away and quietly took the ticket back.

Then I sent a message to the man who had also waited nine years for me.

"Once we register at the courthouse, how about we go to the World Cup for our honeymoon?"

……

Dana Delgado tapped at his phone a few times.

And just like that, he transferred the ticket that belonged to me over to Roberta Simmons.

I stared at him, unable to believe it.

My voice shook. "Didn't you say the tickets were registered under our real names and couldn't be transferred?"

Dana was a rabid soccer fan.

The first year we were together happened to land on a World Cup year, and he'd looked at me with all the tenderness in the world and said, "The World Cup is only perfect when you watch it with the person you love most. Will you come with me?"

I'd smiled and said, "I will," and had my bags packed long before it was time.

But right before we were supposed to leave, he told me, all pained about it, that out of habit he'd booked Roberta's ticket instead.

Then came the second World Cup.

Again, he'd accidentally entered Roberta's name, and swore to me with a face full of apology that he'd be more careful next time.

I believed him. I swallowed my disappointment and waited another four years.

I was even so afraid he'd book it wrong again that this time I'd fought to get the tickets myself.

But who knew.

Transferring a ticket was as simple as that.

The truth was he just wanted to go with Roberta.

And he'd lied to me again and again to make it happen.

Faced with my questions, Dana's voice turned put-upon. "They were just harmless little white lies. Bertie's used to going with me. I could hardly say no."

But every ounce of his kindness flowed straight to Roberta.

All that was left for me was hurt and deception.

Maybe because my eyes had gone so red, his tone softened a little.

"Bertie won't make it to the next World Cup. This is definitely the last time I'll ever go with her."

"Be good, don't hold it against a sick woman. When I'm back, I'll marry you."

Sick woman?

I looked at Roberta, positively glowing, and it struck me as nothing short of absurd.

"I had someone look into it. Those medical records—"

Roberta's face shifted slightly, and she went limp against Dana's chest.

"Dana, I'm so hungry."

Dana had no attention left to spare for anything I was saying, and caught her steadily.

"You can't be going hungry in your condition. Give me ten minutes, it'll be ready."

He strode into the kitchen, rolled his sleeves up to the elbows, and turned his back to me, absorbed in chopping vegetables and boiling noodles.

Roberta shot me a taunting look.

I knew exactly what that look meant.

One word from her, and Dana would cook for her, glad to do it.

But he had never once made a single meal for me.

Back when Roberta and I first met, she'd arched an eyebrow in mock surprise.

"When Dana was with me, he did all the cooking and housework. So how come now he can't even be bothered to pick up a bottle when it tips over?"

"Ha. Good for you, I guess. My own maid finally found herself a maid too."

Back then, I really had fallen apart, lost all composure.

Now, though, I felt strangely calm.

Even exposing the fact that she was faking her illness seemed pointless now.

Failing to get a rise out of me, the smile at the corner of Roberta's mouth stiffened.

She turned instead and walked into the kitchen, resting her head on Dana's shoulder.

"Dana, you were going to propose to her? Then do I get one too?"

Whenever Roberta mentioned me, it was always just "her."

Utterly disrespectful. I'd protested to Dana about it, even cried and made a scene.

But all he did was frown.

"You're not a hundred-dollar bill. Who says everyone has to remember your name? Such a small thing, does it really matter?"

Three careless words, as if I were the one being unreasonable.

Even now, he still didn't see anything wrong with it.

He only murmured his gentle promise to her: "Of course. I'll make sure you have the most unforgettable, beautiful memories."

Roberta glanced back at me, smug.

But I still didn't break the way she wanted.

Instead, expression flat, I opened my phone and logged into the World Cup ticketing site.

I transferred both tickets back.

Then I changed the password.

Nine years I'd waited for this World Cup. And since Dana had still chosen another woman.

Then I wouldn't have him. I'd go see it with a different man.

Laughter kept ringing out from the kitchen. I couldn't be bothered to listen anymore, and walked straight out the door.

First, to the office to quit.

My manager was a little reluctant to see me go, but signed off on it easily enough.

"A master's graduate, top of her class, working reception at a little firm like ours. You really were selling yourself short."

My nose stung before I could stop it.

After graduation, I'd turned down an arranged marriage with a well-connected family to stay in this city with Dana.

His family, his friends, his first love were all here, and so was the career he'd slowly been building.

Meanwhile I didn't have a single soul of my own here, and still, because of one line from him, "somebody has to put the family first," I chose to give in.

I thought my sacrifice was for the sake of building a better home together.

But it turned out to be nothing at all.

Leaving the office, I made a trip to my old campus too.

Nine years of love, ending like this, quietly fizzling into nothing.

I wanted to say goodbye in the place where it had all begun.

Back in the day, Dana was a big man on campus.

Yet he'd pursued me with everything he had, keeping strict distance from every other girl.

At the very top of the confession wall beside the basketball court, a whole line of his declaration was still carved.

"Dana Delgado loves Cordelia Sullivan, now and forever."

The campus felt like our own Garden of Eden.

Here, I still didn't know Dana had a first love etched into his very bones.

Didn't know that afterward he'd blur the line with other women, again and again, for her sake.

And I certainly didn't know I'd spend night after heartbroken, sleepless night because of it.

A gust of wind blew past, and leaves drifted down from the top of the confession wall.

At last I saw the line clearly.

The two words, "Cordelia Sullivan," had been scratched out until no trace of them remained.

Carved in their place was "Roberta Simmons."

It read: "Dana Delgado loves Roberta Simmons, now and forever."

I stared at it, dazed.

Had he changed it when he agreed to love Roberta one more time, or even earlier than that?

Suddenly I realized I no longer had any interest in knowing.

So it turned out even our old campus no longer belonged to me and Dana alone.

The wind blew, and left me hollow inside.

It scattered every last one of those beautiful memories.

When I got home, the place was empty.

Only the leftover dishes and chopsticks, and the kitchen a total wreck.

I knew Dana was waiting for me to clean it up.

But cooking and caring for Roberta, that came from love.

I no longer had any reason to give anything to him.

Looking straight ahead, I went back to the bedroom and packed my bags.

In three days, I would leave this city, and leave Dana behind.

As I wheeled my suitcase out the door, my phone rang. It was Ursula Delgado.

"Cordelia, what is wrong with you? Not even married in yet and already putting on airs? Everyone's here. We're all waiting on you!"

Same as always. She opened her mouth and led with an accusation.

I knew Ursula's birthday dinner was tonight. I'd logged it in my planner long ago, and I'd already bought a gift.

I'd figured that since things were over with Dana, there was no need to go and put up with her moods.

Then I reconsidered. We'd gotten as far as talking marriage, so calling it off deserved at least a word to everyone in the Delgado family.

So I went to the Delgado family's old house.

Dana, of all things, was waiting for me at the door.

I looked over, surprised, and his expression was serious too.

"Cordy, there's something important I have to tell you."

"My mom still doesn't know Bertie's terminally ill. She loves Bertie so much. Let's just not bring it up for now."

So he'd waited for me on purpose only for Roberta's sake.

I'd actually arrived a good fifteen minutes early, yet inside, the meal was already underway.

Roberta sat beside Ursula, her voice apologetic. "Cordelia, your aunt saw how hungry I was, so she said we should start. Don't be upset."

She pointed at her own bowl.

"Dana shelled a whole bunch of shrimp for me. Want me to give you a few to tide you over?"

There wasn't a trace of apology in her tone. Only a taunt.

Ursula shot me a sour look. "Not much talent, but plenty of temper. Put your things down and sit."

As she spoke, she eyed the suitcase with distaste.

"Last year's gift wasn't to my liking, so this year you just bought a whole trunk of it? Is the house not messy enough for you? Now you'll waste that much of my space too..."

I cut in flatly. "You never like anything I buy anyway, so this year I didn't get you anything."

Last year I'd given her a gold bracelet, forty grams of it. Ursula took one look and called it tacky.

Yet she couldn't stop praising the little trinket Roberta bought for ninety-nine cents.

The year before, I'd given her bird's nest and fish maw. Ursula said she didn't care for that sort of thing.

Then she raved about the crate of peaches Roberta brought, so sweet and fresh.

All those times I'd offered a warm face only to have it met with a cold shoulder, it was just because I didn't want to make things hard for Dana.

But there was no need for that anymore.

The cordyceps I'd bought this year, I'd keep and take myself.

"You didn't buy anything?"

Ursula's eyes went round, and she jabbed a finger at me. "You think you're marrying in soon, so you've dropped the act?"

"Let me tell you something, Cordelia. My son is the most devoted child there is, and if I don't give my blessing, don't even dream of setting foot in the Delgado family!"

Her gaze slid between Dana and Roberta, and she sighed.

"He won't pick the girl we know inside and out, from a family that matches ours. No, he has to go for some small-town nobody from out of state."

Instinctively, I waited a few seconds.

Dana, just like every time before, didn't say a single word for me. He only gave me a look.

It was the look that said, She's my mother after all. Don't take it to heart.

In the past, time after time, I'd caught that look and let it settle me.

This time I calmly turned my eyes away.

I spoke. "You're right, our families don't match. I only came today to say one thing. Your son and I have broken up."

Roberta's eyes lit up at once.

Ursula was overjoyed too. "If you can really break up with my son, that counts as the birthday gift I've always wanted!"

I walked all the way out of the Delgado house, and to my surprise, Dana came after me.

At some point along the way, he'd stopped coaxing me when we quarreled.

Probably because he knew I'd always be the one who couldn't help but bow my head first.

This time, though, he gripped my hand tight.

Nerves washed through his eyes. "Cordy, is 'breakup' something you just throw around? It's not like today's the first time my mom's been this way. Why let it get so ugly?"