After eight years of dating, Gavin Hart, for the sake of excitement, turned on the voice chat in his group of guy friends—while coaxing me into sleeping with him.

I froze in place as the phone filled with a chorus of whistles and teasing voices.

"Wow, Gavin really knows how to have fun!"

"Don't be shy, girl! Spice it up a little!"

Gavin’s warm hand slipped under my dress.

"Why are you pretending? Aren’t you usually pretty wild?"

Suddenly, a woman’s voice chimed in from the group, “Gavin, your girlfriend is really easy.”

Gavin let out a sneer. “How could she ever compare to you? Bianca is so much purer.”

I suddenly pushed him away.

“Gavin, if she’s so pure, then go be with her.”

——

“You're willing to hand me over to someone else? You’re such a tease. Who else but me could ever satisfy you?”

His fingers lightly brushed against my cheek, his voice laced with a mocking tone I didn’t recognize.

“Lana, be good. It’s just letting them listen, isn’t it? Doesn’t that make it even more exciting?”

I slapped Gavin hard across the face.

“Gavin, what do you take me for?” My voice choked with emotion, carrying a despair I had never felt in the past eight years.

Seeing me like that, Gavin stood up impatiently.

“What do I take you for? Just a bed partner, isn’t it? All these years, you seemed to enjoy it too, didn’t you? Lana, everything between us was mutual.”

I bit my lower lip hard, my nails digging into my palms—yet I couldn’t feel any pain.

Eight years.

A full eight years.

What I thought was love was nothing more than a game of mutual consent in his eyes,

“Don’t come looking for me again.” My voice was soft—so soft it sounded like I was speaking only to myself.

Gavin scoffed with a laugh. “Lana, this is no fun. You’re such a buzzkill.”

He stood up, his tone filled with condescending annoyance.

I opened my mouth, but for the first time, I didn’t try to stop him.

The door slammed shut with a bang and I slowly sank to the floor.

All these years, my heart had been entirely devoted to Gavin. Whatever he wanted, I tried to meet his every need.

I thought that was the sweetness of being in love— but now, from his mouth, it had become me being "cheap."

At that moment, I too felt like it was all meaningless.

I packed up a few things and went to resign from my job.

Back then, for Gavin, I turned down the opportunity to go abroad with my parents.

I gave up painting, something I truly loved, willingly becoming his little secretary just to stay by his side—just to see him every day.

Looking back now, how ridiculous it all was.

The HR staff looked at my resignation letter and cautiously asked, “Does Mr. Hart know? He probably won’t let you resign, right? You should get his signature yourself.”

I took the letter and knocked on Gavin’s office door.

He glanced casually at the resignation I handed over.

“Lana, throwing a tantrum at home is one thing. But now you’re bringing your drama into the office too?”

Drama?

I gave a bitter smile. So in his eyes, all my pain was just me “making a scene.”

“You know, aside from your looks, you’re nothing compared to Bianca.”

“Well, isn’t that just perfect? Sign it and we’ll be done. I don’t want to be entangled with you anymore. You can’t give me what I want, so let’s end this. The one you want to marry… has never been me.”

Gavin fell silent for a long time and for a brief moment, his expression wavered.

But then Bianca’s ringtone rang, shattering the momentary silence.

“Lana, stop making a fuss.”

He picked up the call, his tone already cold again.

“As for your resignation, I’ll pretend you never brought it up. I’m giving you a month off.”

With that, he walked out without another word.

I watched his figure disappear through the doorway.

But whether he approved it or not, it wouldn’t change the fact—I was leaving.

When I got home, before I could even insert the key into the lock, I heard laughter and chatter coming from inside.

I opened the door.

Five or six men in suits were inside, chatting and laughing cheerfully.

And Gavin was standing by the entrance, accompanying a young woman.

My gaze involuntarily fell on her.

She was nervously clutching the strap of her bag, her cautious, uneasy demeanor strikingly similar to how I used to be when I first started college.

In that instant, I understood everything.

That girl was Bianca— but more than that, she was a reflection of my former self.

How absurd.

“They’re here for dinner,” Gavin said as he loosened his tie. “Hurry up and cook.”

Before I could even say no, he had already pushed me into the kitchen.

The kitchen door closed behind me, cutting off my view of the living room—but not the sounds coming from it.

I could clearly hear them, blatantly talking about me without any restraint.

“Mr. Hart, your bed partner sure is obedient.”

“Yeah, she looks pretty well-behaved.”

Then Bianca’s voice suddenly chimed in, “Why don’t I go help her? Cooking can be exhausting.”

The kitchen knife in my hand paused mid-chop.

“Your hands are meant for painting—you shouldn’t be doing such rough work,” Gavin said, his tone softer than I had ever heard before.

His friends immediately burst into teasing.

“Mr. Hart, you care about Bianca that much? Be careful—someone might get jealous.”

“Right! You really know how to play—bringing Bianca home straight away.”

Gavin’s voice carried a carefree, mocking tone.

“She likes me. She'll do whatever I say. And it’s just cooking, after all.”

He paused, then lowered his voice—but I still heard him clearly.

“She’d probably even cook in lingerie if I told her to.”

It felt like all the blood in my body surged to my head, then drained away in an instant.

The bowl slipped from my hand and crashed to the floor with a loud clang, shattering into countless pieces.

The kitchen door swung open. Gavin stood in the doorway.

I looked up at him—and for a brief second, panic flickered in his eyes.

Then from behind him, Bianca’s voice rang out. “Gavin, I’m hungry.”

His expression darkened instantly. He grabbed my wrist and yanked me violently toward the living room.

“You can’t even handle something this simple!”

I stumbled as he dragged me, my shoulder slamming hard into the shoe cabinet.

A photo frame toppled off the top and hit the ground and shattered.

It was our first photo together.

A crack ran straight through the glass, cutting across the arm he had wrapped around my waist, splitting it clean in two.

“Apologize to my friends!” he snapped. “And clean up the house. Reflect on yourself properly!”

With that, he turned to look at Bianca and his tone softened instantly. “Bianca, let’s go out to eat.”

“Gavin, can we bring her along too?” she asked sweetly.

Gavin glanced at me, his eyes filled with a condescending sort of pity. “Since Bianca asked, you can come too.”

I shook my head.

“Lana!”

His patience finally snapped.

“What are you throwing a fit for now? It’s just a meal, do you have to be so dramatic? If Bianca hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t even bother taking you! Embarrassing!”

The door slammed shut with a harsh bang.

I slowly crouched down and finally noticed— there were a few fresh scratches on my leg, bleeding lightly.

But I didn’t feel any pain at all— because the ache in my heart had already drowned out everything else.

Ever since I was little, I had always been the obedient daughter. My parents protected me well and planned out every detail of my life.

The best schools, the best major—even my future path was mapped out clearly.

The only thing that didn’t go according to plan… was meeting Gavin.

That afternoon, he walked into the wrong classroom and found me in the art studio.

He told me I looked like an angel in that moment.

He chased after me for a full year before I was finally moved.

Back then, he was so gentle. He’d hold my hand as we strolled through campus and whenever he kissed me, he’d do it so carefully— as if he was afraid of hurting me.

He said he wanted to see me the moment he opened his eyes, so we moved in together.

Until the day I graduated.

He looked at me in my graduation gown, his eyes burning with intense desire.

That night, he was especially passionate, especially wild. And from that day on, he started coaxing me into wearing all kinds of outfits.

I complied, shamefully, thinking it was just part of the fun in love. But now I finally understand—what he liked was always the "obedient good girl."

And in his eyes, I had long since become a “slut.”

Late at night, I was awakened by sounds from the living room. "Gavin, do you want me?"

"Be good, Bianca. Let's save your first time for our wedding night, okay?"

Bianca pouted playfully, acting coy. "Then when will you marry me?"

"How about in a week?"

In a week?

It felt like someone clenched my heart tightly—I could barely breathe from the pain.

In one week, he would be marrying another woman. And I... I didn’t even have the right to know.

"Then I’ll let you go for now," Bianca's voice was sweet and dripping with satisfaction.

The bedroom door was suddenly pushed open, rough and forceful.

"Lana, get up. Give the bed to Bianca. From now on, she’ll be living here."

His tone was full of entitlement. "She doesn’t like having other women around. Pack your things and move out tomorrow."

He yanked me up roughly and a sharp pain shot through my wrist. "You sleep on the couch tonight."

He didn’t even glance at me before turning to comfort Bianca.

I stumbled into the living room, collapsing onto the sofa where we once watched movies together, once held each other.

Now, it was the only place left for me in this house.

The bedroom finally quieted down.

Suddenly, I felt someone approaching from behind. "Thinking about me? Perfect. I’m in the mood for you too."

As he spoke, Gavin tried to pin me down on the sofa.

The hands that once touched me so tenderly were now forcefully reaching under my dress.

"Did you miss me?"

In that instant, all I felt was disgust—so sick I wanted to throw up.

"Gavin, do you even know what you're doing?" I struggled with all my strength. "Aren’t you afraid your precious Bianca will hear you?"

"Doesn’t that make it more exciting?"

I turned my head, dodging his attempt to kiss me.

"Why don’t you go touch Bianca? Why come to me?"

"Obviously because you’re slutty enough."

His words hit me like a bucket of ice water to the head.

"Bianca isn’t like you. Our first time will be on our wedding night."

At the wedding night, I shoved him away, my whole body trembling with anger and despair. "Gavin, you're about to get married—why are you still messing with me?"

"Oh, so you're jealous?"

He sat up with a laugh, that smile full of smugness and contempt.