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.

As expected, Jackson didn't notice I was gone.

A week had passed, and he was still grumbling about the mess in the house.

"There's a coworker's wedding tomorrow and a singles party tonight. You should come."

"I don't want to," I replied. I had always disliked these kinds of gatherings, and he knew it.

"I know you don't like them, but everyone else is bringing a plus-one. Who am I supposed to bring if you don't come?"

I almost told him to bring Rebecca but kept it to myself.

I ended up agreeing to go.

Men were so concerned with appearances, and I didn't want things to end on a bitter note.

I told myself it would be the last time.

After work, Jackson picked me up and actually seemed interested in my outfit for once.

"That dress looks great on you."

"Thanks."

He seemed to have forgotten that I used to care about fashion, too.

I had plenty of clothes, but since we'd been together, I'd mostly worn the same few outfits.

Now that I was back to living alone, I was starting to rediscover my old, confident self.

When I opened the passenger door, I noticed a woman's handbag inside.

I wasn't naive enough to think it was a gift for me.

I took a seat in the back.

Jackson started to explain, "It rained yesterday, and I gave her a lift partway. She must have left her bag."

I just nodded.

"Aurora, don't read too much into it. There's really nothing going on."

I closed my eyes, too exhausted to argue.

Since Rebecca came back, I'd often find her things in the passenger seat.

Each time, her clumsy attempts to act like the victim only made me seem petty and overreactive.

Jackson always sided with her, adding to my frustration.

Her behavior became more audacious as time went on.

She knew I'd be in the passenger seat and would deliberately leave her bag there, marking her territory.

It felt like a blatant provocation.

I chose to ignore it.

As we were getting out of the car, Jackson opened my door and said, "Aurora, I know you're still upset, but please try to keep your cool at this party."

"There will be a lot of old friends there. We can discuss things when we get home."

I nodded, too exhausted to argue.

It wasn't until I walked in that I realized what he meant by "upset."

Rebecca was there.