When I got home, it was already late.

Jackson still hadn't come back, and seeing my phone with no new messages, I couldn't help but laugh bitterly at myself.

After a shower, I went to the spare room to sleep. As I was drifting off, I felt a pair of large hands roaming over me, and the cold made me jolt awake.

I looked up to find Jackson, smelling of alcohol, his face flushed, and his shirt wide open.

"Darling, my head is pounding."

I was fed up with this man.

Out partying and drinking, never considering anyone else's feelings when he got home, and always focused only on himself.

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

"Don't even think about sleeping. Get up, I need some hangover soup. Why didn't you have it ready?"

His alcohol-soaked head was right in my face, making me feel nauseous.

I was done.

I pushed him away. "Jackson, you're stink. Stay away from me."

But he didn't get the hint and kept right on, so I got out of bed and threw off the covers.

"You're an adult. If you can't handle your drinks, don't drink! There's no hangover soup, so order takeout yourself."

"I'm too dizzy to order."

"Seriously?" I was so frustrated I almost laughed.

When I was sick with a high fever and asked him to order me some porridge, he told me I must be dizzy, and my hands must be broken.

"So, what about your hands? Did they break? Can't you order for yourself?" I threw his own words back at him.

"Aurora, are you still mad?"

He stopped pretending, no longer acting drunk. He steadied himself and took a few steps.

"Sorry, Aurora. This time it's my fault."

"When is it not your fault?" I snapped.

Jackson's face darkened. Normally, I'd accept his apologies, but not this time.

"Rebecca has an important interview. She just came back to the country, and her job situation is unstable. This job is crucial for her."

"So?"

"As a friend, I couldn't just ignore her situation, so I…"

"So, you chose her over your fiancée and your first love."

"Aurora, don't be like this."

"Jackson, are you some sort of expert or fashion guru? Why does it matter what she wears to her interview? Are you the interviewer? I didn't know you had such a thing for carrying women's bags."

"Aurora, she just came back and doesn't have many friends. Can't you understand?"

"And what about me? I sat alone in the bridal shop for three hours, being talked about by the staff. Did you ever consider my feelings?"

"Jackson, do you really believe what you're saying? How many times has this happened? Do I need to remind you? You picked her up from the airport, skipped dinner with my parents, gave away the wedding ring I loved, and now you're helping her find a place instead of being with me. Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"What about next time? On our wedding day, if she tells you she's sick and wants to have a wedding with you, will you drop everything for her?"

"Aurora! Enough! You're acting like a harpy. How many times have I told you that Rebecca and I are just friends? Is it wrong for me to help her out?"

Is she your only friend? All your old classmates are around. Why does she always come to you?

But before I could say more, Jackson's phone rang. His annoyed expression shifted instantly to one of tenderness.

"Rebecca, don't worry. Take your time and tell me everything."

I could hear Rebecca's cries coming through the phone.

"Jackson, I'm in so much pain. My head feels like it's going to burst, I think I have a fever. I'm feeling terrible and I'm really scared. Can you come over and be with me?"

"Hold on, I'm on my way!"

I watched Jackson's every move with a detached curiosity. How would he handle this?

He turned to me, full of apologies. "Aurora, stay calm. I need to step out for a bit. Don't wait up for me."

"Next time, I'll be with you to try the wedding dresses next time."

He said this and rushed out, practically running.

I couldn't believe a word he said anymore.

I took another shower, letting the water cascade over me.

It was strange. I wasn't sad, and I didn't feel like crying.

I suddenly felt drained.

I wanted to give up on this one-sided relationship that seemed to only matter to me.

I pulled out the notebook from my nightstand, the one I kept for tracking my relationship.

I'd promised myself I'd forgive him 99 times, but on the hundredth, I'd be done for good.

Flipping through the pages, I saw the records had long surpassed 99.

I'd just been holding on for too long.

I closed the notebook, packed up my things, and left.

I had to give Jackson some credit.

He always complained about my stuff cluttering the house, so I kept a place of my own.

I used to live in the same neighborhood, but when that place was sold, I found a rental closer to work.

It was handy for when I had late nights and needed a break during the day.

Jackson never seemed to notice how few things I had.

He once looked at my nearly empty closet and said it was how a wife should be, minimal and not overly glamorous.

I glanced at his colorful shirts hanging in the closet and stayed silent.

My phone buzzed unexpectedly.

I thought it might be Jackson realizing I was missing, but it was a message from Rebecca.

Jackson was staying over at her place, with clothes scattered everywhere.

[Jackson was too tired, so he's sleeping here for now. Don't worry.]

Worry about what?

I looked at the corner of the bed, where Jackson's once-toned abs seemed like a distant memory.

When we were together, his six-pack was my favorite.

Now that even that was gone, there was nothing left to hold on to.

I lay exhausted on the bed, looking around at the cozy little home I'd created. I remembered when we first moved in.

He held me close and took in the room.

"We should put up our photos here and make a photo wall. You love the piano, so we'll get one and set it up in that corner. You can play, I'll sing. We'll snuggle up, drink some red wine, and watch movies…"

"Aurora, even if I can't give you much right now, believe me, when we have our own place, it'll be all your design. You'll decide everything. You're the heart of our home."

In that moment, surrounded by his love, I truly thought I'd found a place in his heart.

Maybe he really did love me then.

Maybe, if Rebecca hadn't returned, we could have had it all, dating, marriage, kids, a simple life together.

But sadly, none of that can be reclaimed.

Everything has changed.

Rebecca was Jackson's high school classmate, and they both ended up at the same university.

I joined a year later as their junior.

They were the golden couple, the university's poster pair.

Like many others, I was immediately captivated during one of his speeches.

From that moment on, I was all in.

Jackson was so exceptional that even a simple glance from him made me ecstatic for days.

In my sophomore year, I switched to his major, getting closer to him with every step.

Later, Rebecca was offered a chance to study abroad by a professor.

It was a golden opportunity, and she left without a second thought.

Jackson, being his usual oblivious self, didn't realize what was happening until she was already gone.

After that, he struggled with his work.

I couldn't bear to see him so down, so I helped him out, and we grew closer.

By graduation, he confessed his feelings.

There were no grand gestures, but just a heartfelt confession after a few drinks. He took my hand and looked at me with such sincerity.

I was deeply touched, realizing how powerful true companionship could be.

I did everything I could to be a good girlfriend, and we were happy.

At least, that's how I felt.

But then Rebecca came back, and everything changed.

At first, I didn't think it was a big deal. I had been with him for years, and we were about to get married.

I had underestimated how much Rebecca meant to him.

Whenever it involved her, he would drop everything and rush to her side without hesitation.

It was so romantic of him, such obvious favoritism.

Too bad the recipient wasn't his fiancée but a woman who had nothing to do with us.

I had cried, fought, and argued. I had been red-faced and lost my composure.

I sacrificed my dignity, but to him, it all seemed like unreasonable outbursts, stubbornness, and hopelessness.

Even so, I never dared to bring up breaking up. In fact, I was more afraid he would end things with me.

I had loved him too much. He had been my everything when I was younger.

How could I let go?

I had given so much. Why should Rebecca benefit?

But now, I didn't care anymore.

I was exhausted.

The fiery, brilliant love of my youth had faded.

I no longer loved him.