There was the invitation letter from the orchestra and the documents I needed to apply for a visa to work abroad.

I stood up and went out with the information. I thought it was time to let go and fulfill my wish.

The visa process was simpler than I thought and it was all done in less than half a day.

On the way back, a friend request popped up on my phone. The avatar looked familiar, a kitten with flowers on its head and the verification message came with a note, “Tiffany.”

The two photos in Richie's WhatsApp flashed through my mind. I tapped her fingertips and accepted the friend request.

But there was no rush to send the message, as if it was just added casually, or like a silent show-off of the winner, which made me feel embarrassed.

I lowered my eyes and accidentally discovered that there was an update in my social media.

I realized something and clicked on it. Sure enough, I saw that Tiffany had posted a photo in her recent updates.

A caption read, [Today is a fairy tale world.] 

In the accompanying picture, the protagonist was smiling brightly at the camera, with countless hot air balloons floating in the air behind her and a man with his back to the camera.

Even through the screen, I could still recognize that it was Richie, the one who should have been in the hospital.

I stared at the familiar figure for a long time, tears streaming down my face.

I clenched my phone so tightly that my fingertips turned white.

It turned out that Richie had not forgotten that day's appointment, he just had someone else to fulfill his promise to.

My heart seemed to be unable to bear the burden and emitted a sharp beeping sound, which reached my mind and made me not know what to do. 

In the end, she opened her profile in a self-mutilating manner and scrolled through it frantically.

Finally, I saw the day Tiffany returned to the US a month ago.

She was wearing a moon-white dress, holding a bright rose and standing next to Richie. The photo had the caption that read, [Someone insisted on picking me up, so I had to be merciful and give him this honor.]

The memory was suddenly pulled back to that day, when I had a fever because I went to deliver documents to him in the rain. 

I called Richie in distress, wanting him to come back and accompany me, but he scolded me, “Don't be pretentious.”

It turned out that it was not that I was being pretentious, but that I did not deserve it.

Not wanting to cry out loud, I took a deep breath, trying to suppress the sob in his throat and sent a number to Richie: [4.]

I still did not receive a reply on my phone until I got home. I guessed Richie wass busy accompanying that girl on the hot air balloon ride.

I sat tiredly on the sofa, looking at the cute pillow beside me, the doll ornaments on the coffee table and the childlike and warm decorations in every corner.

At first, I disliked that house because it was too rigid and felt like a hotel that one could leave at any time.

So, I pestered Richie for a few days before he finally gave in. But then, the home I had decorated with great anticipation seemed to be gone.

I found a cardboard box and slowly put the things he had bought into it. He would figure out how to deal with them when the time came.

After cleaning up, I looked at those things with regret.

Each and every one of them was carefully selected by me, but unfortunately Richie did not like them, nor did the owners who bought them.

Suddenly the entrance door opened. It was Richie coming back.

He looked at what was in my hand, frowned slightly and then said in a light tone, “If you want to clean up, remember not to touch my things.”

As I heard that, I Found it ridiculous. His first reaction was to ask me not to touch his things.

I said, “Don't worry, I know myself.”

I had never touched it before and I would never touch it in the future.

Richie did not hear anything unusual, nor did he care what I was doing. He went into the study as usual and did not come out for the whole night.

I stared at the closed door in a daze and laughed at myself. 

Richie could not even bear to sleep in the same room with me again.

**

In the next few days, I was preparing to go abroad and had no time to pay attention to Richie.

Until that afternoon, when I had completed the resignation procedures and was leaving the orchestra, I received a call from Richie’s good friend, “Letha, Richie is drunk and it's useless for any of us to persuade him. Do you think you can come over when you are free?”

On the phone, the other party's voice was helpless.

I was a little surprised. Richie said that drinking would affect the operation, so he rarely drank. Why did he drink suddenly?

But I did not delve into it further. I asked for the address of the party and took a taxi to go there to find him.

As I arrived at the place, the party was almost over. 

The strong smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes hit me in the face. I coughed lightly twice and saw Richie at a glance.

The lights were dim. He was wearing a white shirt and looked handsome and elegant. 

Perhaps he had drunk some wine, as he was resting on the sofa with his eyes closed, holding a petite girl in his arms.

Tiffany was wearing a light blue dress and leaning against someone shyly.

As the lights turned, she looked up at me, a hint of subtle provocation flashing in her delicate eyes, just like the faint smell of perfume on her body.

It had the sweet scent of gardenia, the same scent as the perfume that I had taken time off from work to buy that day.

Tiffany's lips curled up slightly. She gently pushed Richie and her soft voice made people feel pity in their hearts, “Richie, your fiancée is here.”

Richie did not even raise his head and chuckled, “What fiancée? Aren't you my fiancée?”

The careless tone was like a heavy hammer, hitting my heart hard.

The dull pain almost made it difficult for me to breathe.

There was a sudden silence in the box and several eyes fell on me one after another.

Richie finally noticed me at that time and his eyes quickly regained clarity. He glanced at Tiffany beside him, his expression changing, “I, I'm drunk... I thought it was you just now.”

I slowly clenched my hands at my side and said calmly, “Let's go.”

Seeing that, Richie seemed to be secretly relieved. He stood up shakily and walked towards me. His indifferent eyes seemed somewhat gentle under the light.

“Okay, I'll listen to you.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he leaned on me as if he had no strength left. 

The smell of alcohol was mixed with a sweet scent of perfume like a sharp silver needle, it pierced her heart.

I had loved Richie for seven years, more than two thousand days and nights. Liking him had almost become an instinct. Even if I was planning to let go, I would still feel sad because of his betrayal.

Richie drank a lot of wine and lost consciousness completely after leaving the box.

I carried the man into the car with great difficulty, but found that he had no keys on him.

I guess he did not bring it out.

I turned back to the box and was about to knock on the door when I suddenly heard Tiffany's half-joking, half-sarcastic voice, “Why did you call her here? It was so embarrassing just now.”

“I'm afraid she'll cry. Who of you will comfort her then?”

The people in the box laughed and spoke in a mocking tone.

“Of course, we have to call her over so she can face reality.”

“That's right, she is not worthy of Richie, but she has no self-awareness and keeps clinging to him shamelessly.”

“Now that you're back, she should go somewhere cooler.”

The merciless ridicule and condescending contempt trampled me into the mud. I listened expressionlessly and suddenly pushed the door open heavily.

The voice suddenly stopped.

They all looked back and were somewhat surprised and uncomfortable, but they did not feel apologetic. After all, they believed they had said nothing wrong.

I raised the corners of my lips, walked forward to pick up the car keys and said as if nothing had happened, “It's okay, you guys continue.”

After saying that, I turned and left.

Behind me, there was silence.

I brought Richie home with great difficulty. 

When we entered the building, the drowsy man suddenly became uncooperative and leaned against the door, refusing to move.

“Richie, hold on a little longer, we will be able to lie down soon,” I tried to coax him.

Richie suddenly opened his eyes and looked fixedly at me.

Under the light, his eyes were sharp, as if he was looking at someone extremely disgusting. Before I could react, I was suddenly pushed away by him, “Go away, don’t touch me.”

I fell to the ground unexpectedly and felt a sharp pain in my tailbone.

I turned pale with pain and looked up at Richie, only to see that he was just leaning against the door, looking down at me. 

His indifferent eyes were like a basin of ice water in the cold winter, completely extinguishing my lingering feelings.

At the same time, it also woke me up from the illusion I had been having for years. It turned out Richie had never actually loved me.

My tears welled up in her eyes, I stood up and left as if escaping.

Behind me, Richie slid down the wall and sat on the ground, seemingly having fallen asleep, but I had no time to wonder whether he was cold or comfortable.

I sat on the sofa all night until it was dawn outside the window.

Richie came out of the room with his hands covering his forehead, his face gloomy, “Why would I sleep on the floor, you..."

Before he could finish his words, he saw my appearance and suddenly remembered something.

He showed a rare look of guilt on his face. After a pause, he apologized, “Sorry, it was my fault last night. By the way, I'm free the day after tomorrow. Can I take you to ride a hot air balloon?”

Staying up late made my head feel dizzy and my nerves felt like they were being torn apart.

I raised my head in a daze and the face of the man in front of me seemed unfamiliar. I stared at him absentmindedly until he showed impatience.

“Okay,” I responded calmly.

After getting the answer, Richie felt relieved and left impatiently.

I looked at his back, closed my eyes and leaned back on the sofa.

Time passed quickly and it was the appointed day. Richie wore a white sportswear, which was rare for him. 

His hair fell naturally in front of his forehead and he looked just like he did in college.

“Let’s eat first. It's quite far over there and there's nothing to eat on the way,” he said casually.

I listened to his familiar tone and paused slightly, but said nothing.

After finishing our meal, we drove to their destination.

That day was a weekday and most of the tourists there were students and young couples. Their faces were filled with excitement and anticipation and they chatter away, making the two of us who were silent seem like oddities.

I turned around, wanting to say something to break the silence, but saw Richie concentrating on looking at his phone.

It was the same scene that had happened countless times in the past month.

I thought I had gotten used to it, but for some reason, my heart still felt clogged.” Richie, can you concentrate on accompanying me today and not look at your phone?”

Richie raised his eyes and the words that were about to come out of his mouth were swallowed back subconsciously the moment he saw my eyes.

He paused for a moment, nodded and said, “Okay.”

I was somewhat delighted by the unexpected answer. I started talking and enthusiastically pulled Richie to discuss the scenery there.

Although Richie did not react much, he would occasionally give a brief reply.

Soon, the line reached there.

I was about to step forward, Richie's cell phone suddenly rang.

The sharp and abrupt ringing sound instantly tightened the string in my mind and then continued to pull and stretch it. 

The smile on my lips fell back and I looked at Richie with a slight pleading look, “Richie, it's our turn, let's go up first.”

Richie pursed his lips and said, “I'll be back soon.”

“What phone call? Is there so…."

Before the word ‘important’ could be said, Richie had already left.

The staff member urged impatiently, “Do you want to ride or not? If not, get out of the way.”

Complex emotions rushed through my heart and soon calmed down. I looked at Richie's back and said in a hoarse voice, “Sorry, I will go now.”

I sat in the hot air balloon. The moment the flames lit up above her head, I saw Richie walking out hurriedly through the crowd.

He had not even thought about explaining anything to me.

The hot air balloon slowly rose into the sky and Richie's figure gradually shrank until he got into the car and drove away. My clenched fists loosened and I completely lost all hope.

There was bitterness in my eyes, but I told myself in my heart, ‘It does not matter, I don't want Richie anymore.’

Half an hour later, I returned to the ground and my cell phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket.

I took it out and found that it was in the friend group that Richie and I were in and everyone was chatting.

[Richie was too crazy today, he just rushed over like that.]

[I can't believe that such a calm person would actually fight.]

[There are many things you can't see. Richie did everything for Tiffany before, including smoking, drinking and fighting. The only thing missing is a tattoo.]

My eyelashes trembled as I scrolled through the chat history until a video appeared. 

After clicking it, the scene was in a French restaurant. It was crowded with people, but Richie and Tiffany could still be seen.

In the background, someone was yelling, “I'm having a meal with a woman, what does it have to do with you? Get out of here!”

Amid the noise, Richie's calm but firm voice penetrated the screen and reached my eardrums, “She is mine.”

A silent muffled sound echoed fiercely in my mind, shocking me to the point of trembling with fear.

Tiffany was his, but what about her?

Was I a victim of unlove, or a burden that had long been discarded?

My eyes were swollen and painful and my thoughts suddenly went back to a month ago, when I had just learned of Tiffany's existence. Everything in the past was like an illusion, falling apart before my eyes.

I stumbled back home, looked at everything familiar and began to call Richie repeatedly, hoping that he would come back and tell myself that it was all fake.