Evelyn Hartwell, my fiancée who had never sent me flowers even once during our seven years of dating, suddenly sent me 9,999 roses on my birthday, along with a whole box of condoms. I was overjoyed at first, so I quickly posted the flowers on my Instagram feeds. However, my excitement did not last long as her assistant left a comment below.

[Some people can only pick up the trash that others don’t want.]

It was then that I realized the shocking truth. Evelyn had bought a house for her assistant right below the apartment that was supposed to be our home after our wedding. The lavish gift of roses that I had thought was for me was never meant for me at all. It was for him and it had been sent to me by mistake.

Determined to return what was never mine, I personally delivered the roses back to her. As fate would have it, I walked in on Evelyn and her assistant enjoying a cozy candlelight dinner together.

Before I could even say a word, Evelyn lashed out at me, her words sharp and merciless.

"Can you stop being so annoying? Simon and I are just discussing business."

Then she added, "Besides, if something were really going on between us, do you think you would even have a chance to marry me?"

In the past, those words would have left me spiraling, desperate to find out the truth, questioning her until the early hours of the morning.

This time, I felt something shift inside me. I calmly threw the bouquet of roses at her, along with the engagement ring that once symbolized our love.

"I genuinely wish you, both of you, happiness," I said, my voice steady.

——

The engagement ring rolled across the floor, stopping right at Evelyn's feet. Without the slightest hesitation, she sneered and stepped on it as if it were nothing.

By doing so, she was not just stepping on the ring. She was trampling my dignity, my love and everything I had ever believed in under her heels.

"If you want to marry me, you’d better change your jealous nature."

"Now get out of here. We have a business to discuss. Go home and reflect on your behavior."

As her familiar accusations echoed in the air, I felt something unexpected. Instead of the usual pain, I was calm, almost numb.

After leaving Simon's house, I decided I had to make things clear once and for all. I sent a message to the family group chat, telling everyone about Evelyn's affair. Along with that, I announced my decision to break off the engagement with Evelyn.

Normally, Evelyn never responded to my messages quickly, if at all. However, this time, she did not waste a second. She sent a picture of herself at the computer to the group, captioning it with, [Just handling work as usual with my subordinates.]

Then, as she always did, she expertly twisted the situation to shift the blame onto me.

She then typed smoothly, [Vincent Roswell, there’s no need to stir up trouble just because I didn’t buy you that one-million-dollar car you wanted for our wedding.]

She continued, [I’ve never made a fuss when you used my card to drink with your female friends at the bar.]

My mother was the first to react, her messages flooding in, filled with accusations. She called me ungrateful, said I did not deserve Evelyn and demanded that I apologize to her for causing trouble.

She even went as far as to threaten me, saying that if I let this marriage slip away, she would kill herself right in front of me.

Seeing all this play out exactly as I expected, I let out a tired sigh and quietly exited the group chat.

After my parents' divorce, my mother became more irritable and controlling.

Growing up in such a suffocating environment made me naturally gravitate toward Evelyn’s seemingly gentle and polite nature.

I thought she was my escape, my peace. However, during our seven years together, I began to realize how wrong I was. Evelyn was nothing like the person she pretended to be.

The softness she showed was not for me. It was for Simon Redford. The patience she displayed was not meant for those closest to her but for another man.

When it came to me, all I received was cold indifference, emotional manipulation and a steady stream of cutting remarks.

This woman was an expert at belittling me, especially in front of others.

She knew just how to push me to my breaking point. And when I finally broke down, crying and hurt, she would act all righteous and composed, asking me harshly why I was behaving that way.

Then, in front of everyone, she would put on her mask of kindness and pretend to forgive me, making it seem like she was the one being reasonable while I was the irrational one.

But not this time. This time, she had miscalculated.

People who struggle to let go often make the loudest noise. However, when a heart has already withered, it did not stir, no matter what that important person did.

Evelyn returned with a bouquet of wilted red roses in her hand. Meanwhile, I was stretched out comfortably on the sofa, scrolling through my phone, completely unbothered by her presence.

"Why haven’t you cooked?" she snapped.

"Still angry, huh? Come one, that’s enough now, isn’t it?"

"Didn’t you always say you wanted me to give you flowers? Well, I bought them for you, so stop sulking."

I stared at them, remembering the times I would see couples walking down the street, holding beautiful bouquets, smiling and glowing with happiness. I had often told her how much I envied and admired that simple gesture.

But every time, Evelyn had responded with impatience and disdain.

"If I had known you were such a useless man, I would never have chosen to be with you!"

"It's not that I can’t afford these little things, but Vincent Roswell, you! You are a man who stays home all day, cooking and cleaning, contributing nothing to society. Do you even deserve such things?"

She always found ways to accuse me of being lazy and useless, as though my value was tied solely to material things.

What she conveniently forgot was that I had been the one supporting her all these years, helping her rise to success in her business.

I gave her everything I could. Time, energy, countless gifts and flowers over the seven years we were together.

Unfortunately, when she finally reached the top, my health had suffered, worn down by my efforts to keep us afloat.

In the end, all she did was dangle marriage in front of me like a carrot, coaxing me into quitting my job.

Once I gave in, she no longer saw me as her partner. In her eyes, now I was just a live-in servant, no more important than an old, worn-out rag.

She would not even buy me a single rose without complaining, yet she showered Simon with lavish gifts. She gave him a suite, even a sea of flowers.

Just earlier today, I had checked Simon’s social media.

There, in plain sight, was a post of them together, laughing and relaxing in a bathtub full of rose petals.

The very same 9,999 roses she now dumped on me, as if they were some afterthought, already ruined and discarded.

I looked at the pathetic bouquet at my feet. Wilted, damp and cold. I nudged them away with my foot, disgusted, before lifting my gaze to meet Evelyn's eyes.

I spoke, my voice calm but resolute. "I don’t like second-hand trash."

"And I definitely don’t like second-hand women."

Upon hearing my words, Evelyn’s face froze, her expression immediately turning icy as her eyes narrowed, preparing to lash out at me.

"Vincent Roswell, what right do you have to talk to me like that? Don’t forget, you’re living in my house now. I’m the one supporting you financially..."

As she spoke, I felt the familiar anger rising in me, fueled by the memories of our seven-year relationship flashing through my mind. Throughout that time, I had been the one shouldering most of the financial burden.

Even after I resigned from my job because she insisted, I used up all my savings just to keep things afloat.

Unfortunately, before I could respond, the oven made a loud ding, pulling me back to reality.

I glanced at Evelyn, who was still standing there, glaring at me, but I was too exhausted to continue the argument. Instead, I walked away, slipping on my kitchen gloves and pulling the cake out of the oven.

Evelyn watched me, her frown deepening, but then her expression softened slightly.

"Today... is your birthday?" she asked.

Yes, it was my thirtieth birthday.

But even more than that, it was the anniversary of seven years with Evelyn.

I had spent the entire day preparing and baking this cake from scratch with the hope that we would celebrate together after she came home from work.

Seeing the realization dawn on her face, Evelyn hesitated, her guilt visible in the way her brows furrowed. In an attempt to make amends, she grabbed a candle and stuck it into the cake.

"I've been too busy with work recently, but I'll make it up to you. This afternoon, I’ll take you to choose a new engagement ring. I’ll get you a much more expensive one this time."

She sat down across from me, slipping back into her usual calm and polished demeanor.

"Vince, there’s no need to be jealous of Simon. Yes, we had a relationship when we were young, but that was years ago. We’ve both moved on."

Had she really moved on, though?

I stayed quiet, recalling a memory that was still fresh in my mind. Not long ago, when I was with Evelyn, I brought her lunch to work. On my way up, I overheard her chatting with her friends. They were teasing her, asking why she was with someone like me.

I could still hear her voice. "If it’s not Simon, I don’t really care who it is."

At that time, I was young and full of hope, believing that sincerity and dedication could conquer anything, even someone’s feelings. Looking back now, I realize how naive I had been. Every step I took was a misstep, leading me further into a life where I did not belong.

I needed to get out before everything, before I was entirely lost.

"No, go ahead and do whatever you like, I'll handle things on my own," I said calmly.

Evelyn paused, seemingly taken aback by my sudden detachment.

However, years of watching me swallow my pride had conditioned her to expect nothing but submission. She assumed, like always, that I had chosen to forgive her yet again. So, with a smile, she moved forward and lit the candle on the cake.

"Hurry up and make a good wish."

In past years, my wishes had always been the same. It would be simple hopes for love and happiness with Evelyn, for our relationship to last.

But not this time.

This time, a silent wish echoed in my head.

"I want to be happy... and I want to leave Evelyn Hartwell forever."

After making my wish, I opened my eyes, ready to blow out the candles. But when I looked around, Evelyn had already disappeared. She was nowhere to be found.

The cake I had spent hours making, the cake I had poured my heart into, was knocked over, lying in a heap on the floor. In her rush to leave, Evelyn had carelessly tipped it over and had not even bothered to close the door behind her.

I got up, grabbed a mop and started cleaning the mess she had left behind.

Almost immediately, a new post from Simon appeared in my feed.

[You are such a clumsy fool, Simon Redford. How did I manage to knock over the cabinets just by walking?! Sigh…Luckily, my knight in shining armor rushed over to save me right away.]

And there, in the comments below, was Evelyn. She, the woman who could not be bothered to check on me after my car accident, had taken the time to respond to him.

[Every time you need me, I'll always be there for you.]

In a daze, I hit the love button on her comment.

A message from Evelyn popped up not long after.

[Simon hurt his foot. I’m taking him to the hospital right now. You go over and clean up his place for him.]

[After that, make him some chicken soup and bring it to the hospital. Don’t forget, no cilantro this time.]

It hit me then, all at once.

Evelyn did not have any food allergies or particular dislikes, not really. Still, every time I added cilantro to her food, she would scold me harshly, calling me useless and berating me for never getting things right.

It turned out that it was not about her at all. It was about Simon Redford.

I had originally planned to ignore Evelyn's message, to simply turn off my phone and leave her demands unanswered. But after a moment of hesitation, I found myself heading downstairs anyway.

When I arrived, Evelyn was holding onto Simon, her voice low and soothing, comforting him in the way she never did for me. As soon as she saw me, her expression hardened.

"Why are you just getting here?" she snapped.

"If Simon's treatment gets delayed and bad things happen to him, it’s your fault!"

Before she could continue, Simon gently tugged at her sleeve.

"Evelyn, it's alright. Don’t get upset with Vincent because of me. I know he has never liked me."

"Okay, Vincent, clean up this place. I will not marry a man who spends all day being jealous and can’t even manage to do anything right."

And with that, she helped Simon out of the room, her back to me as she disappeared from sight.

I looked at her retreating as I whispered quietly, almost to myself, "I will not marry a woman who cheats and has no shame."

Once they were gone, I looked around the room.

The bathroom was a mess and water splashed everywhere, which was evidence of their time together. In the trash can, two used condoms.

The sight made my stomach turn, nausea rising as I stood frozen in place.

No wonder Evelyn had been "working overtime" so often recently.

It was not work that kept her out late. It was this. Every day, she had been coming downstairs to spend intimate time with Simon, then climbing back up to our home like nothing had happened.

I glanced around Simon's bedroom again.

My gaze landed on the rows of luxury accessories and shelves filled with limited-edition sneakers.

Just a few days ago, I had asked Evelyn for a pair of sneakers as a birthday gift. However, her response had cut deep, as if even my request had disgusted her.

"How can you celebrate your thirtieth birthday? You’re too old to be acting like a kid. Isn’t it pathetic?"

"You don’t need expensive shoes to do housework. And anyway, no matter how pricey your sneakers are, they won’t make you twenty again!"

Her words stung. It was true. I could not stay twenty forever.

Evelyn, however, had no shortage of twenty-year-olds around her and it seemed her favorite among them was Simon Redford, her so-called assistant.

I took a deep breath and began taking photos of everything in the room, documenting the mess and all the signs of betrayal.

Then, without another word, I headed back upstairs and started packing my things.

I realized, as I gathered my belongings, that it was not as if Evelyn had never given me gifts during our seven years together.

She had, in her own way. Fancy kitchenware, a fancy sweeping robot, a high-end washing machine, even a kitchen knife handcrafted by some so-called expert.

Now, I was leaving it all behind.

Halfway through packing, I paused, a sudden wave of absurdity washing over me. Downstairs, in Simon’s world, there were shelves and closets full of luxurious items, a life of excess that I could never imagine.

But here, in the place I had called home for several years, I realized everything I owned could fit into a single suitcase.

After I finished packing, I picked up the phone and called my close friend, Matthew Landon, who was living overseas. I dialed his number and despite hanging up three times, I finally let the call connect.

I held back the sobs that were threatening to break free. I said, "Matt, I was wrong."

"I should never have given up my job or my life for Evelyn."

"I regret everything. I want to come find you."

There was a pause and then Matthew’s voice came through, saying that I deserved it and calling me a fool before hanging up the phone.

I sat in the empty room, the silence closing in around me, feeling the sadness settle deep inside.

Memories of countless conversations with Matthew flashed through my mind. His advice, his warnings, all the things he had said to me.

He had always looked at me like I was throwing my life away, as if he could not understand why I was making these choices.

And now, as the tears I had been holding back for so long finally began to fall, my phone buzzed with another message.

It was from Matthew. He had bought me the nearest flight out, three days from now, at 12 noon.

At that exact moment, all the emotions I had bottled up for seven years came rushing out at once.

I cried. For myself and for the wasted seven years.

Evelyn did not come home that night. After I refused to cook for Simon, she blocked my number without a second thought.

Instead of waiting, I packed up and drove back to my hometown. I felt a strange pull to retrieve some of my old childhood belongings.

I was not entirely sure what Evelyn had told my mother, but as soon as I stepped out of the car, it became clear that her words had already reached home. My mother was standing at the door, her arms crossed, looking as though she had been waiting for me for hours.

The moment she realized Evelyn was not coming with me, her face immediately darkened.

Mom still did not know the truth that Evelyn would never set foot here again. Deep down, she had always looked down on me and my family, treating us with a kind of disdain she never bothered to hide.

"You haven't made up yet?" my mother asked sharply.

"It's too complicated to be fixed," I replied.

No sooner had the words left my mouth than her hand connected with my face, hard and fast. Half my face throbbed as I felt the familiar sting of her slap.

In front of the whole neighborhood, with people passing by and glancing at the scene unfolding, my mother grabbed the broom by the door. She struck me again with the same ruthless frustration she used to discipline me when I was a child.

Each hit landed with force, relentless and filled with frustration.

"Eve told me everything," she yelled between strikes. "Do you even understand how lucky you are to be with someone like her? You should be grateful. Grateful! It's a blessing you don’t deserve, a fortune earned over several lifetimes. And here you are, wasting it."

"You're just jealous, you're being selfish, you're mean!"

"You better figure it out, you hear me? No matter what it takes, whether you have to beg on your knees or hang your own neck, you’ll marry Evelyn, or don’t even think about coming back here!"

Suddenly, a cold wind swept through and the sky opened up as rain poured down.

My mother finally stopped.

She blocked the door, threw my things into the rain-soaked street and shouted, "Get out! Even if you die, you better die as a part of the Hartwell family!"

The trophy I had earned as a child, a symbol of my pride, hit me square on the forehead, drawing blood. The rain mixed with my own blood, streaming down my face as I knelt to pick up the scattered remnants of my past from the muddy ground.

That was when a Bentley pulled up beside me.

The car door opened and Evelyn stepped out of the car.

She held an umbrella in one hand and with the other, she grabbed me roughly from behind, dragging me toward her car.

"Vince, have you learned your lesson yet?"

"No one in this world will ever love you the way I do."

"Come back home with me. As soon as we return, you have to apologize to Simon and you’ll still be my future husband."

She threw her coat over my shoulders, but the smell of Simon's cigarettes still clung to the fabric, overwhelming me.

I turned my head away, looking out the rain-blurred window at the scenery as it passed.

The numbness in my chest spread, swallowing everything whole.

I used to see Evelyn as my salvation, someone I could confide in, someone who would understand my deepest thoughts and feelings. But now, I realized she had taken my pain and twisted it into something she could use to control me, to manipulate me.

She was never my salvation.

And she certainly was not worthy of my sincere love.

The only way I could truly live, the only way I could ever be happy, was by leaving her and walking away from the hollow place we once called home.

As these thoughts swirled in my mind, Evelyn’s phone rang, snapping me back to reality.

"Evelyn, why aren’t you here yet? Everyone is waiting for you."

"They’re teasing me, saying team events should be attended by couples. I’m barely holding up here without you..."

Evelyn glanced at me awkwardly.

For a brief moment, I could see the wheels turning in her head, as though she was weighing the pros and cons of leaving me behind, but she quickly realized it would be inappropriate, especially after everything that had happened.

"Vince, why don’t you join us for the company’s team event?"

In the past, I was never allowed to simply set foot in Evelyn's company.

I was always the outsider, kept at a distance to avoid interfering with her work. Even when I brought her lunch, I had to wait outside, handing the food over to her assistant while I stood at the door like some kind of delivery boy.

But now, this invitation was something different. An unprecedented offer.

I slowly reached for a tissue, wiping the blood still dripping from the wound on my forehead. Then, after a moment, I answered, my voice calm and deliberate.

"Alright."