Mark's friend noticed something was wrong and spoke up for him.

"Molly, don't worry about it. Mark must have had too much to drink and is a bit tipsy. You know, he can only get drunk after three glasses of wine."

Yes, if his friend hadn't told me, I would have forgotten about Mark's low alcohol tolerance.

Every time he comes to hang out, he's the one drinking milk while everyone else has wine.

This time, he drank three glasses for his so-called good friend, but he wouldn't even have half a glass for me.

He made an excuse that it was because I can drink a lot without getting drunk.

The truth is, Mark can't handle much wine. He's not cut out for it.

I guess it's not that he can't drink, but that he's drinking with the wrong person.

At this point, a drunk Mark was leaning back in his chair to rest.

Watching this scene unfold, I felt it was extremely ironic.

Rachel looked at Mark with worry in her eyes.

I turned around and prepared to leave.

Rachel called me, saying, "Molly, what do you mean? Mark asked us to prepare a birthday surprise for you early this morning. He is drunk and feeling uncomfortable now, but you want to leave. Do you love him or not? Someone like you doesn't deserve him at all..."

I sneered.

"You're right, I don't deserve him. You're the only one who should be his girlfriend. So, I've decided to help you two. Congratulations! You no longer have to pretend to be his good friend and do things couples do. After all, you're not happy acting, and I feel sick watching you."

"Oh, and by the way, I didn't ask him to give me a birthday surprise. He proposed it on his own. If you're jealous, when you two are together, you can ask him for another one."

Her face turned pale instantly, and she stammered, "I... I didn't mean that..."

"What do you mean by 'you didn't mean that'? Mark has fainted, and you're still pretending in front of me. Who are you pretending for? By the way, I'm worried that your Mark will bother me when he wakes up. Please keep him under control and don't disturb me."

After saying that, I left without looking back.

Breaking up is always a personal matter.

In the past, I had poor judgment and mistook straw for treasure.

Now, I don't want to waste my time on this worthless situation.

I find it repulsive.

As soon as I stepped outside, I received a call from the delivery man.

To celebrate this day, I had also prepared a surprise for Mark.

I took the box from the delivery man and felt a bit foolish.

Since Mark had mentioned that he liked this particular model, I had gone to great lengths and used several connections to obtain it for him.

However, unexpectedly, we broke up before I had the chance to give him the gift.

Before I could process my thoughts, a drunk man approached me, swaying as he walked.

His gaze felt greedy and intense.

I considered hiding, but he quickly rushed toward me.

"Sweetie... where are you going? Come, I will take you home..."

Suddenly, another man stepped in front of me and, in an instant, pinned the drunk to the ground.

I thanked him repeatedly.

When he turned his head, I realized I recognized him.

It dawned on me who he was.

It was Yates Clark, a friend Mark often mentioned.

Although he said he was fine, I noticed blood on his hands. It must have been from the drunk's counterattack.

I felt a pang of guilt, knowing he had been injured because of me.

"Yates, I'm so sorry you got hurt. There's no pharmacy nearby. If you don't mind, would you like to come home with me, and I can take care of it? Or I can take you to the hospital?"

As soon as I said it, I regretted my impulsiveness.

I had only been thinking about treating his wound quickly, but I realized that Yates and I were not familiar with each other at all.

We had barely exchanged a few words.

Just as I was about to apologize for my forwardness, he spoke up.

"Hmm... Is it inconvenient to disturb you so late?"

"It's fine. It's just me and my dog at home. Let's go."

I thought that, given his personality, he would not agree to come with me.

After all, he is the most reserved among Mark's friends and seems uninterested in anything.

When I first saw him, I even wondered if he was mute.

I expected our time together to be awkward, but surprisingly, he actively sought out topics to discuss.

The conversation started off a bit awkwardly.

He asked hesitantly, "Um... are you... okay?"

When people are feeling down, sudden concern can be overwhelming.

I felt my eyes welling up for no clear reason.

Perhaps it was because I wasn't very familiar with Yates, which made it easier to open up.

I began to share my frustrations about Mark and Rachel.

"It doesn't matter. I'm just a little sad. But it's okay. I've been considering breaking up with Mark for a while now. I just felt reluctant after being together for so long. But today, I've finally let go."

"Yates, as an outsider, do you think Mark and Rachel are in the wrong? I've never seen two good friends kiss so passionately like that..."

Throughout the journey, he listened patiently, allowing me to vent my feelings.

As we neared my door, I casually asked, "Yates, do you think they are going too far?"

"Yeah, that's quite excessive," he replied.

At that moment, I found Yates more appealing.

As soon as I opened the door, my dog bolted out.

To my surprise, the dog pounced on Yates.

"Hey, my lucky dog really likes you! I've never seen him react like this with anyone else."

Yates didn't say anything, but I noticed the corners of his mouth curl up into a smile.

Seeing that my dog "Lucky" and Yates were getting along well, I left them be.

I brought a stool directly from the dining room and planned to take the medicine box on top of the cabinet.

As I was coming down from the stool, my foot suddenly twisted.

Just when I thought I was about to hit the floor, Yates quickly hugged me.

I subconsciously did a somersault.

His body stood straight, as if he was in military training.

"Thank you, Yates. I'll take care of your wound," I said.

"It's fine," he replied.

I don't know if it's my imagination, but Yates' tone sounded very pleasant.

I quickly spoke out my thoughts.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No," he said, looking straight at me.

I don't know why, but at this moment I felt inexplicably hot.

Lucky then rushed in between us, interrupting our eye contact.

He is indeed my good dog.

But the next second, Lucky actually started yelling at Yates.

"Lucky, what are you doing! Don't bully others," I scolded.

Yates didn't seem to care about Lucky's attitude, but asked me an irrelevant question.

"Is Lucky treating Mark the same way?"

"No, Lucky really hates him and even bit him," I replied.

He didn't say anything else.

I carefully treated his wound.

I consider the place where I live to be a bit remote, making it difficult to get a taxi.

After treating Yates' wound, I asked him, "It's hard to get a taxi here. How about I drive you back?"

Upon hearing this, Yates' expression turned cold, and his brows furrowed.

"Are you this nice to everyone?" he asked.

I felt a bit confused by his response, but I explained myself seriously.

"No, it's just that my place is a bit far away, and it might be hard to get a taxi right now. I thought you were injured because of me, so I feel responsible for you."

After I spoke, Yates visibly brightened.

He replied cheerfully, "No need to send me off. Just go to bed early."

Considering how he had frowned just moments before, as if he were hiding something, I decided not to press further.

"Okay, then be careful, and I'll treat you to a meal another day," I said.

He nodded, gave Lucky a gentle pat on the head, and left.

Once he was gone, I began to cry loudly.

Mark and I had been together for a year, and it would be a lie to say I wasn't sad.

However, my reason told me that ending the relationship was the right choice.

Mark claimed to love me, but he was also being ambiguous with his so-called good friend Rachel.

He was greedy, wanting both of us.

His behavior showed a complete lack of respect for our relationship.

His drunken comments might have revealed his true feelings toward me.

It wasn't love; it was desire.

As I cried, I packed away the gifts he had given me.

I had cried enough, and I had gathered all his things. It was time to let go.