When I got home, I started packing my things. An old box tumbled out of the closet, and inside it lay a dried flower ring—a silent relic of a different time, carrying memories that sent a dull ache through my heart.

It was six years ago, the night before I left, when we had our very first real argument. Leroy stubbornly insisted he wouldn’t come to see me off. But just as I was about to board the plane, there he was, breathless from running. He slipped the ring onto my finger, his tone almost like a command. “Winifred, promise me you won’t fall in love with anyone else. When you come back, trade this for a wedding ring, and we’ll get married and have a baby.”

Seasons came and went, and I held onto that flower ring for years. There was even a moment when I nearly lost my leg to a landmine trying to retrieve it. But when I finally came home, so eager to show him the ring, all he offered were excuses—he was busy, or he’d transfer money for me to buy one myself. Even the child I had hoped for was dismissed as inconvenient timing.

I kept waiting. And here I was today.

The sound of the door opening broke into my thoughts. Leroy came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. “What are you doing?” he asked.

I pulled away from his arms. Leroy’s face fell, his tone suddenly impatient. “Winifred, is this because I didn’t go to the hospital with you today? You’re really going to give me attitude for that?”

He grabbed my wrist, reopening the barely healed wound. Something flickered in his gaze before he let go. His eyes dropped to the ring lying on the floor. He let out a low chuckle. “Aren’t we a bit too old for this? If you’re upset, fine—but don’t make a joke out of hurting yourself.”

In that moment, I caught a glimpse of the earnest, young man he used to be. But just as quickly, he was thirty-year-old Leroy again. The words I’d kept back for so long finally slipped out. “Let’s end this.”

Leroy said nothing. The quiet stretched until Zelda’s distinctive ringtone cut through it. His fingers fiddled with his phone, and then he spoke slowly. “Winifred, if you want some time away, I’ll send you the money. You have everything you need now. Don’t be greedy.”

Was I too greedy? Was it too much to want a ring that was already three years overdue—or maybe to hope for a husband I could lean on? I didn’t know.

Looking at Leroy, I could almost smell the lingering trace of Zelda’s perfume on him. My heart twisted painfully, but I pushed it down. “I’m not joking. Let’s break up, so you and Zelda can have space.”

Leroy snapped his head to me, his voice hard. “Winifred, are you really this twisted inside? Is this about some stupid ring, or the child? I told you before that I’m not ready for a child. And Zelda isn’t feeling well. Not everyone is as opportunistic as you, climbing the ranks at any cost.”

“I’m warning you—if you target Zelda again, I won’t let it slide,” he added.

The door slammed shut, leaving me in silence. I paused for a moment, then went back to packing. He had no idea that a big part of why I’d left in the first place was for him.

Back then, Leroy was just starting his business. He was under so much stress over a deal that he couldn’t sleep for nights. By a twist of fate, the client’s son happened to be part of my professional network. So I volunteered to take on an overseas assignment—one that would help Leroy secure what he needed. But due to confidentiality, I couldn’t tell him. He only saw it as me choosing ambition no matter the cost, and he held it against me.

My phone buzzed with a message from Zelda. Every word dripped with smugness and provocation.

“You really are something, can’t even keep what was handed to you, such an idiot~”

“But don’t worry, in the years you were away, I’ve even helped your dear Leroy with his baths. I’ll take good care of him~”

“Oh, and I forgot to mention, I’m pregnant with his child now. He’s told me to focus on a healthy pregnancy~”

How laughable. One moment he claimed he wasn’t ready for children, the next he was having one with Zelda.

I quickly typed back a reply: “Wishing you both a long and happy marriage.” Then I blocked and deleted her contact.

After that, I moved to a hotel.

Just then, a message from my editor popped up. “This overseas assignment could last at least three years. Have you thought it through?”

I tapped on the screen, leaving three simple words in the chat: “I’ve decided.”

This time, I truly had.

After that day, Leroy probably figured I was just sulking. He shot me a text: "Don't expect me to sweet-talk you this time. If you've got the nerve, don't ever come back."

He moved in with Zelda and started parading her around at every public event. Word on the street was that Leroy had gotten bored of me and tossed me to the curb. Then, right before my final assignment before leaving, we crossed paths again.

Leroy lounged on the couch, his gaze practically dripping with admiration. Beside him, Zelda giggled and flirted, drawing chuckles and playful jabs from the staff around us. Their eyes drifted toward me—some full of pity, others burning with curiosity or outright disdain.

Laney, my colleague, was fuming. She leaned in, her voice a fierce whisper: "Winnie, this is unbelievable. How can he treat you like this?"

I placed a gentle hand on her arm and shook my head. "Let's focus on work. I'm fine."

Predictably, Zelda started picking apart my work. First it was the angle. Then the lighting was apparently all wrong. Next thing I knew, she "accidentally" spilled an entire cup of scalding coffee all over me. I couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Zelda, if you're determined to make my life hell, at least pick a better time and place," I snapped.

Leroy cut in instantly, his voice like ice. "Is this really how you behave at work? As a journalist, do you even possess basic patience? Are you even qualified?"

I met his gaze, swallowing the anger clawing up my throat. "And what exactly do you want me to do?"

"Apologize to Zelda. Admit you're in way over your head." The last words dripped with venom.

I knew this was payback for that night. When I hesitated, he leaned back in his chair, his tone cool and detached. "You don't have to apologize, of course. But today's interview ends here—and I'll be reconsidering all future support."

Our eyes locked. His deadpan stare seemed to say: *Winifred, your pride means absolutely nothing to me.*

I took a deep breath and finally muttered, "I'm sorry."

Zelda let out a triumphant laugh, her smile laced with pure malice. "That's it? You've totally ruined my mood, you know~"

Her gaze landed on the bandage around my wrist, and her eyes sparkled with sadistic delight. "How about this? Kneel and hold the microphone for me. And remember—use only that hand~"

I stared at Zelda. She knew exactly how hard I'd fought to become a journalist, yet she was hell-bent on shattering that dream.

Leroy backed her up without missing a beat, his voice flat. "Do as Zelda says."

Behind me, Laney was about to storm the stage, but I held her back. I stood beside Zelda, letting my actions speak for themselves. Finally, she was satisfied.

During the grueling interview, cold sweat trickled down my forehead. I could feel the skin on my wrist tearing. Warm blood slid down my arm, mixing with the now-cold coffee sticking to my back.

The moment the interview wrapped, exhaustion swallowed me whole and I collapsed. Leroy immediately shielded Zelda, throwing me a condescending look. "Winifred, drop the act. No one's buying it."

He turned back to Zelda, his voice suddenly soft. "Zelda, I booked a table at your favorite restaurant to celebrate your first interview."

As they walked away, my phone buzzed with a message from Zelda: *"Winifred, blocking me won't work. You can't beat me."*

Dizziness from blood loss clouded my vision, and everything went black.

When I came to, I was in a hospital bed. Laney sat beside me, her face a tangle of worry and pity. "Winnie... you were pregnant. Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"The doctor said you lost too much blood, so the baby... the baby is gone."

I froze, my hand instinctively flying to my abdomen. A crushing wave of guilt and remorse washed over me. The child I had dreamed of, night after night, had slipped away without me even knowing.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the tears fell faster than any words could form.

Just then, my phone buzzed on the bedside table. The screen lit up with a name I had grown to both dread and crave: Leroy Howell.