I watched as my boyfriend put the ring that he had promised to give me on Sophie White's finger at her birthday party.

When I questioned him, Mark Goodman shrugged nonchalantly. "I promised to marry Sophie. Since that's not happening now, the ring is compensation."

I was left speechless from rage and so disenchanted that I decided to cut all ties with him.

Everyone was cheering when Mark later showed up at a gathering with Sophie, both wearing a matching set of rings.

But when they all thought I would make a scene, I smiled faintly. "You two really deserve each other. When are you getting married? Do send me an invite."

I watched as my boyfriend Mark Goodman put a beautiful matching ring on Sophie White's ring finger.

It was her birthday, and everyone cheered as if they were the ones actually dating.

When I asked him later, Mark shrugged nonchalantly. "It's just a ring. Let her have it."

And without further explanation, he left me alone in my room and left.

I watched as he went, feeling ever-growing disappointment.

After all, no woman would accept their boyfriend exchanging matching rings with another woman.

And with that, we gave each other the silent treatment for two weeks.

In fact, just two weeks ago, he offered to take me to the beach, saying that we should start over.

But when I packed my bags and happily went to the airport, he stood me up once again.

He told me that Sophie's home had a power outage, and she'd be scared, as a young girl alone in a big house.

Even as I felt my good mood vaporizing, I still remember how cold he was when he said, "Be good. I'll make up to you next time."

It was always the same words—I had to let Sophie win whenever she was involved.

He didn't even remember that day was my birthday.

When I pointed out that he was being too nice to Sophie, he would say that Sophie was just a sister to him.

I smiled sardonically as I remembered.

To him, that sister whom he had no blood relations with was even more important than me, his girlfriend.

If anything, it was like Sophie was his girlfriend instead.

And Mark knew how much I wanted a pair of matching rings that I would wear with him—that it was the symbol of our love.

I would tell him that countless times, but he would respond half-heartedly.

When he eventually reluctantly agreed to buy a pair, the ring ended up on Sophie's finger anyway.

I gave him all the love I had, but nothing was ever given back.

Even if I gave my heart to him, it was nothing compared to Sophie.

-

I was arriving at a bus station when Mark called.

I hesitated and eventually answered.

After all, I still had hope—what if he wanted to apologize?

However, all I got was him demanding coldly, "What's your problem, Lilian?! Sophie's crying and saying she wants to apologize!"

As he finished, Sophie's soft voice came from the other end, saying, "I'm so sorry, Lilian… I didn't know you'd get upset about the rings! I'll buy you dinner tomorrow and apologize properly, okay?"

It wasn't easy for me to calm down, but now that calm vaporized because of Sophie.

And when I didn't respond, Sophie started crying at Mark, "What if Lilian doesn't forgive me? I really didn't mean to get between you two…"

I stayed silent as I rolled my eyes, just as Mark snatched the phone and snapped furiously, "How long are you going to keep this up?! Can't you be more understanding?! Sophie is showing you plenty of respect by buying you dinner—you're coming no matter what happens!"

I took a deep breath and said, "I'm busy."

With that, I hung up.

The world was really more peaceful without Mark and Sophie hollering into my ears.

They could do whatever they wanted to—I didn't have the time to waste playing their games.

When I woke up the next day, Mark had already cooked breakfast and called me to the dining table like an affectionate husband.

I couldn't help relenting, as it was the first time I was rewarded for sacrificing so much over the years.

Mark came up to me, gently coaxing, "I get it… You've wanted matching rings for so long. But I'm yours anyway—just let Sophie have this one. I'll buy us a pair next time."

But he said that all the time, and he would always break the promise because of Sophie.

As I stayed silent, he said, "Look, Sophie just wants an opportunity to apologize. You'll make things awkward for her if you don't go."

I never held out much hope when it was something Sophie planned, but I agreed to go because I wanted Mark to stop bothering me.

Sighing in relief, he said, "Now that's better. It's at 8 PM tomorrow—I'll be there too."

-

It was pouring when I arrived exactly at eight, and I was soaked through.

However, I waited until ten, but neither Mark nor Sophie showed up.

I tried to call them, but no one answered no matter how many times I tried.

I started to feel dizzy and placed a palm on my forehead—I had really caught a fever.

Still, as I tried to call Mark again, I inadvertently turned on Twitter and saw Sophie posting a photo on Twitter, showing Mark sitting by her bed and feeding her medicine.

It was even captioned: [I guess this is happiness—having someone take care of me when I'm sick.]

I shook my head, laughing and hating myself for buying into their bullshit so easily.

It had always been like this—Mark could give up on everything if Sophie just asked, as she would always be number one in his heart.

But I wasn't sad or angry.

Instead, I was calm like never before.

When the rain outside reduced to a drizzle, I picked up my bag and left.

My vision was already a blur from my fever, and when I finally managed to shamble my way home, I took some medicine and quickly fell asleep.

It was not until late at night when I was woken up by footsteps.

I knew it was Mark, but my body hurt all over and I wasn't in the mood to entertain him, so I kept pretending to sleep.

Still, even though my eyes were closed, I could still sense his piercing glare.

I knew he was upset with me for not keeping the lights, waiting for him to come home, and greeting him

But when I used to do it, we used to get in fights, and he would call me annoying, telling me nonchalantly that I should be more understanding.

Well, I understood now—and no longer cared.

Wasn't this exactly what he wanted?

When the alarm clock woke me up the next day, I shoved his hand off in annoyance, but that alone woke him up.

He rubbed his eyes as he got up, "Aren't you waking up too early?"

"I'm done sleeping," I replied, getting dressed without looking at him.

He pursed his lips, noticing the medicine on top of my drawer. "Were you sick?"

I never answered, and I was ready to leave after getting dressed when he hugged me from behind.

I frowned and tried to free myself, but his arms tightened around me as he said anxiously, "I'm sorry I stood you up, but I can explain—Sophie was sick, and she's alone in the big city. I have to take care of her…"

I slid out of his grasp as I replied, "I know—you don't have to explain yourself. You told me that she's sick and frail, so it's only right you went to her. There's no need to apologize, and you can just drop it."

There was shock and disbelief in his eyes as I finished, but I didn't want to keep talking to him and patted his arm. "Alright. If there's nothing else, I'm going to work."

"Lilian!"

I turned in confusion as he called me again, only for him to say, "You haven't made breakfast."

He said it as if it was only natural, leaving me all the more annoyed.

"Go have some at the cafe downstairs. I'm going to work," I said shortly, and I could see the brief panic in his eyes just before I shut the door.

-

Since that day, I started giving Mark the silent treatment.

In the past, I would quickly cave and ask to reconcile, but I had no such intention now.

I even started sleeping in the other room and learned to lock the door since he began to slip inside my room while I was asleep.

I also reset my alarm clock so that I could sleep more, since I used to wake up very early to cook for him and would drive thirty minutes just to send him lunchboxes during his lunch hour.

Time was much more flexible without including Mark in my life, and I began to enjoy living for myself.

There were several times when he demanded to know why I didn't cook for him and starved him. I would nonchalantly reply, "Are you an overgrown infant? Don't you know enough to buy your own meals?"

I used to be the one to get hysterical, but the roles had completely reversed—I would watch him as he threw a fit like an utter clown.

Instead of wasting my time on someone who didn't deserve it, I could just spend it on improving myself.

As I spared even more time for my studies, I saw a recruitment for postgraduate programs and felt a pang of regret.

I had been so eager to graduate back in university to marry Mark that I gave up on my studies and got a job.

But now, I was going to make up for that past regret.

Every day after work, I would quickly finish dinner before heading to the library, studying until it was very late before going home.