On the seventh anniversary of our relationship, Leo Williams gave my best friend a couple’s ring.

When I confronted him with repeated questions, he snapped, "It’s just an ordinary gift. Can you stop making a big deal out of it?"

Later, with reddened eyes, he demanded to know what my relationship was with that man.

I placed the ring in Nathan Wilson's hand and smiled softly at Leo.

"It’s just an ordinary gift."

“Flora, this is a rare opportunity. The company really values you. Please think it through,”

Team leader James Smith said earnestly, but I was only half-listening.

On the day of our seventh anniversary, I thought Leo had forgotten, but just before work ended, he sent me a message.

"Get off work early. I made your favorite dish. I’m waiting for you at home."

By six o’clock, I couldn’t wait any longer and grabbed my bag to clock out.

This was the seventh year of our relationship, and it was the first time Leo had remembered our anniversary.

But I knew he loved me; he just wasn’t the type to celebrate special occasions.

This change in our seventh year was the best proof of his love for me.

And just a few days ago, I found the receipt for the ring in Leo’s suit pocket.

My heart skipped a beat, and the sweetness that filled my chest made me smile without even thinking, eager to get home.

“Leo, I’m back…”

But when I opened the door, the sight that greeted me was like a bucket of cold water, instantly dousing all my expectations.

Leo was slipping the ring onto Alice Taylor’s finger.

Alice seemed a little surprised, but didn’t refuse, smiling sweetly as she thanked him.

"Thank you, Leo."

Leo gently patted Alice’s head.

In the warm yellow light, they looked like the homeowners.

Like a newlywed couple, sweet and in love.

And there I was, rushing home to avoid the evening traffic, squeezing into the subway.

Dusty and disheveled, I felt like an unwanted guest, intruding on their moment of happiness.

As I fumbled, the wine glass slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor.

I awkwardly looked up, meeting their astonished gazes.

Leo’s eyes briefly scanned my face before shifting to the spilled wine on the floor. The tenderness and affection in his gaze evaporated, replaced by irritation.

He furrowed his brow. "Flora, what’s this? Can’t you be more careful?"

Alice gently tugged at Leo’s hand, chiding him.

"Don’t be so harsh. Flora didn’t do it on purpose. She’s just a little clumsy, you know that."

Their intimate conversation hit me like a punch, leaving me dizzy and disoriented.

Tears blurred my vision as I lowered my head, pretending to clean up the mess, trying to hide my embarrassment.

But everything before me remained a blur, and as soon as my hand touched the broken glass, a sharp pain shot through me.

Unable to hold back, I cried out in pain.

Leo finally couldn’t stand to watch any longer. He came over, lifted me up, and carried me away from the shards.

Alice hurried over with the first aid kit, wanting to tend to my wound.

But when I saw the ring on her finger, I instinctively recoiled from her touch.

Leo was completely frustrated by now. He rubbed his forehead before grabbing my injured hand and shoving it in front of Alice.

"Flora, what’s your problem? When are you going to stop being so emotional?"

My chest ached so much it felt like my heart might burst.

The emotions I’d been bottling up for so long finally exploded. I yanked my hand out of Leo’s grip, my voice trembling with anger.

“What do you mean, I’m making a scene? What does giving her a ring mean, then?”

Alice froze, her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but Leo quickly stepped in front of her, shielding her from me.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he said flatly. “She came over to help cook. It was just a small gift.”

He said it so casually, as if giving Alice a ring was the most natural, insignificant thing in the world.

But all these years we’ve been together—it’s always been me buying him gifts, or we’d split the cost.

Leo never gave me anything. Not once.

The only thing he ever gave me was the gray scarf he wrapped around my neck the night I confessed my feelings to him.

We met in college at the freshman welcome party. I was the host that night, and I fell for him at first sight.

I found his contact info scrawled on the campus wall, and I chased him relentlessly—inviting him to dinner, to movies, for long walks around the quad.

At first, he turned me down. But eventually, after enough time had passed, he seemed to soften. He finally said yes.

I gave him flowers every day and wrote him cheesy love letters.

“Isn’t this way too corny?” he’d ask with a frown every time—but still, he kept them all, carefully hidden away.

To this day, those silly little notes are tucked in the drawer of his wardrobe.

I remember the day Leo accepted my confession so clearly—it was the first snowfall of the year. I stood outside the boys’ dorm, asking him to come see the snow with me.

He came down, and when he saw how red my nose was from the cold, he smiled and gently pressed his warm hand against my cheek.

“You’re pretty cute,” he said.

I took my chance, bold and shameless.

“Then do you want a girlfriend this cute?”

He hesitated, and I thought for sure I’d blown it. I was just about to change the subject when he suddenly took off his scarf and wrapped it around my neck.

“Alright then—girlfriend.”

No one thought we’d last. He was the golden boy of the law school—handsome, talented, the student council president. And I was just an ordinary girl—nothing special.

Even I thought we wouldn’t go far. But somehow, we lasted seven years.

In our senior year, Leo got a recommendation that would’ve allowed him to study abroad at Yale—an elite opportunity reserved for the very best.

But my mother, Kara Jones, fell gravely ill, and I had no choice but to start working at Eltheon Enterprises right after graduation.

When Leo said he wasn’t going, that he’d stay in the city with me to help take care of my mom—I was overjoyed.

I was truly happy for him, knowing he had such a bright future ahead. But I never expected him to give it all up for me.

During the hardest times, I worked all day while he rushed from his graduate courses straight to the hospital—talking with my mom, taking her on walks, keeping her company.

And back then, I thought: If Leo didn’t leave, then I’d never let him go. I’d hold onto him forever.

That’s why, even through all the arguments over the years, I was always the one to back down. The one to apologize, to calm his temper.

Leo had only ever taken one step toward me, but I was willing to take the other ninety-nine—just to fall into his arms.

But now… now, I was starting to feel tired.

Alice had left early, leaving Leo to silently pick up the pieces of our shattered evening.

By the time he finished, it was well past midnight.

Without a word to me, Leo went upstairs on his own.

I knew he was angry.

I lay on the sofa, covering my eyes with my hand, but the tears still slipped out, no matter how hard I tried to stop them.

I didn’t know what to do anymore.

Alice and I worked at the same company. We’d become friends after being assigned to the same project.

I had invited her over, introduced her to Leo.

But when had she and Leo grown so close?

I couldn’t figure it out—and didn’t want to dwell on it any longer.

Suddenly, a warm hand gently brushed my cheek.

"Why are you crying?"

It was Leo.

I turned my head away, not wanting to talk to him.

But he cupped my chin and forced me to face him.

"You ruined what should’ve been a nice anniversary—and I’m not even crying. So why are you?"

He finished speaking and handed me a gift box.

Inside was a Vivienne Westwood Saturn necklace.

"It’s not anything extravagant, but back in college, you’d always stop and look at it when we passed by the store. I saw it again a few days ago and thought I’d finally get it for you. As for Alice’s ring, it was just... incidental. Didn’t you always want me to get along with your friends?"

Leo leaned down, fastened the necklace around my neck, and then pulled me into his arms, speaking in a low, soothing voice.

His warm hand gently patted my back, over and over, easing the ache in my chest, piece by piece.

"I’m sorry," I mumbled, burying my face in his embrace—just like I always did after our arguments.

But the unease in my heart still lingered.

"I don’t want you getting so close to Alice."

Leo paused. Then he kissed the top of my head and whispered, “Alright. Whatever you say.”

After that night, Leo and I fell back into our usual routine. The days passed, one after the other.

I thought we had turned the page.

Until the night of the Westland University Law School alumni gathering.

It was well past midnight, and I still hadn’t heard a word from Leo.

Worried, I drove to the hotel where the event was being held.

The ballroom was huge, packed with famous alumni from the law school—some of whom I’d seen on the news.

I wove through the crowd, scanning the room, but there was no sign of Leo.

Had he gone home already? Had we just missed each other on the road?

With that thought, I stepped out into the hotel’s back garden and pulled out my phone to call him again.

That’s when I saw them—two familiar figures standing by the fountain.

Leo and Alice.

Leo was still in his tailored suit. Alice was wearing a red dress with a slit so high it nearly reached her navel.

She had always been tall and striking. Standing next to Leo, they looked like the perfect couple. If I weren’t his girlfriend, I might’ve thought the same.

There weren’t many people in the garden, so their voices carried clearly.

"Leo, are you still mad at me for disappearing back then? It wasn’t my choice—my dad forced me to go abroad. I never wanted to leave."

"I was miserable overseas. I thought about you all the time. I kept hoping you'd come find me or wondering when I’d get to come home and see you."

"But when I finally convinced my dad to let me come back for college… you already had a girlfriend?"

"I know you were just trying to get back at me. But now I’m here. I’ve been suffering these past few years. Leo, please—come back to me. I’m begging you. I haven’t had a single good night’s sleep. I can’t live without you."

As she spoke, Alice extended her wrist toward Leo. Faint red marks lined the inside of her arm, pale and delicate like lotus roots.

When Alice first joined the company, she wore cheap clothes and sometimes had to split meals with others. I thought her family was struggling, so I went out of my way to help her at work.

I had also noticed those marks on her wrist.

I was the one who took her to a therapist, got her medication.

She never told me what caused them—and I never asked.

But now, I knew.

The root of it all was my own boyfriend.

And I couldn’t think of anything more bitterly ironic.