I've been in a three-year relationship with Rosalie Lowe so far. Alas, she's been nothing but courteous toward me due to the fact that she hates physical contact.

But on my birthday, I witness the noble and cold-looking girlfriend of mine kissing and hugging another man passionately.

Only then do I realize that Rosalie just hates me all this time.

At that moment, I decide to set her free and let her stay with the man she truly loves.

But Rosalie appears at my wedding and begs me to give her another chance.

I just shake my head coldly. "I find women who have gotten tainted by other men filthy."

My girlfriend, Rosalie Lowe, started ignoring me over an ordinary argument. She didn't answer my calls or reply to my messages.

She only replied with a "yes" when I said I would go to her place in two weeks to celebrate her birthday.

I was overjoyed, so I used the money I had originally set aside for a new laptop to buy her a gift.

Then, I bought a train ticket and traveled hundreds of miles to the city where she lived.

The moment I got off the train, it felt like a lifetime had passed. The 14-hour-long trip was exhausting. For the first time, I felt like I could fall asleep while standing.

However, upon the thought of meeting my girlfriend soon, I was thrilled.

I was nervous on my way to her campus. I wondered how she would react when she saw me.

Would she throw herself into my arms excitedly? Would she nod at me calmly like she always did in the past?

Rosalie had always been aloof and prideful. She was distant and beyond everyone's reach.

I should be grateful to have someone like her as my girlfriend.

I let out a sigh when I thought of our argument. "I think I should apologize to her later."

I arrived outside the campus. Before I even got out of the car, I spotted her at the stall next to the entrance.

Just as I was about to raise my hand and greet her, a tall, charismatic man clad in a suit suddenly appeared beside her.

He casually took the half-bottle of water Rosalie had left and finished it in one gulp.

Rosalie seemed unbothered, and she even blushed shyly.

I widened my eyes and almost thought I had gotten the wrong person. I was surprised to see such a gentle side of Rosalie.

A tall, charming young man and a bright, smiling young lady ran around freely in the gentle summer night breeze.

It was just like a scene straight out of a movie, but I couldn't enjoy it.

I felt a chill run through every part of my body. For the first time, Rosalie felt like a stranger to me.

She was a prodigy known by everyone in the state. She was accepted to Baston College before turning 18 years old, and at 21, she was already a rising star in academia.

However, she had a strange habit, and that was why we were ignoring each other.

Rosalie hated it when others had physical contact with her. She was almost obsessively averse to it. She never took public transport or even attended any social gatherings in school.

It was impossible to see her in a crowded place.

When we went for a meal together, she would make a reservation for private dining in advance.

As her boyfriend, I thought I was the exception.

When we first got together, I accidentally touched her arm, and she sprang back as if she had been electrocuted.

Not only did she wipe her arm with a wet tissue multiple times, but she also ignored me for a month after that.

Although we had made our relationship public, we never kissed or hugged each other. There was even a wet tissue separating our hands when we held hands for the first time.

On our first anniversary, we went to a movie. I finally mustered my courage and held her hand.

Despite being in public, she shot up to her feet and screamed. Then, she left in a hurry.

After that incident, I soothed her and also secretly comforted myself, thinking that prodigies tend to have some weird habits.

I thought she would slowly accept me after some time.

Every year, during celebrations like Valentine's Day, I would see photos of my roommates kissing and being lovey-dovey with their partners.

I was envious and even jealous of them.

This year, on Valentine's Day, I sent a screenshot of my Instagram feed to Rosalie and jokingly said, "We've been together for so long, but we've never hugged each other. Why don't we take a photo and post it this year?"

She didn't reply to my message.

At midnight, I couldn't take it anymore and texted her, only to find out that she had blocked me.

She always did that to express her dissatisfaction.

I kept coaxing her, and she only unblocked me after two weeks. She didn't even apologize to me or say anything to comfort me.

I had traveled hundreds of miles. I had crossed almost half of Zanston, only to be greeted with such a scene.

The man caught up to Rosalie. Laughing, he grabbed Rosalie's hand and held her in his embrace.

I felt a pang in my heart when I saw the drastic difference.

At the same time, Rosalie finally spotted me, who was across the road.

Rosalie froze, and the smile on her face faded instantly. Then, she slipped back into her usual haughty and aloof demeanor.

She gently pushed the man away and strode toward me.

"Rosalie, where are you going?" The man grabbed her wrist and followed her.

Rosalie stopped in her tracks, but she didn't shake off the man's hand.

She walked up to me and stared at me calmly, saying, "You're quick."

Of course. I had traveled here overnight.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Before today, I thought her indifference toward me was the gentlest she could be.

I swallowed all the words I wanted to say and took a deep breath. Then, I forced a smile and said, "Happy birthday."

I handed her the gift I had been carrying.

Just as Rosalie wanted to raise her hand, the man's eyes flickered. He gently pulled her back a little and reminded her, "Rosalie, the movie is about to start. Let's go."

Rosalie's fingers brushed against the back of my hand. She turned around and left with the man without hesitation.

She was so obedient that I felt like I didn't know her anymore.

After taking a few steps forward, she suddenly turned around. "Do you want to join us?"

I had come across countless videos and thought everything was fake when I saw a man pestering a woman after she betrayed him.

It made the situation look ugly.

I had even said that if my future girlfriend were to do the same, I would throw the flowers at her face without a second thought.

But the reality was, I strode forward subconsciously and followed behind them. My mind went blank, and the scene from moments ago kept flashing before me.

The passersby's gazes made me feel uneasy. I felt out of place as I followed behind the couple. When we were in the cab, I felt like a tour guide or a burden.

But she was someone I had loved for many years. How could I just give up on her?

The man was chatty, and he kept talking about interesting events that had happened at school.

Rosalie chimed in and chuckled from time to time. She was completely different from the time when she was with me.

When we first started dating, I used to share anecdotes from my daily life with her.

Even though she never seemed to respond to me or care about what I said, I still enjoyed telling her.

One day, I excitedly told her about a couple I met downstairs, and she asked impatiently, "Do you have nothing better to do every day?"

After that day, I never told her about trivial things like that again, not even a word.

She would listen attentively to other people, even when they were spouting nonsense.

I gripped the door handle tightly, my fingertips turning pale. A wave of sorrow washed over me and suffocated me from within.

Just then, the driver suddenly said something.

"The two of you should stop chatting with each other. This guy looks so awkward here," the driver said.

I was grateful that the driver had made a fair point.

Rosalie and the man, who were chatting away just now, fell silent.

The smile on Rosalie's face vanished. It seemed like she wasn't going to say anything.

But the man beside her chuckled. "I'm sorry for neglecting you. I'm Rosalie's senior, Ethan Grant, and I'm one year ahead of her.

"We're in the same thesis group. If things go well, we'll pursue a PhD together."

After saying that, he patted my shoulder. "Are you Rosalie's older or younger brother? Why haven't I heard about you from her?"

His tone was calm, but his words were laced with mockery.

So he was Ethan Grant, another prodigy from Baston College.

This might sound absurd, but I knew this college better than the students here did, all because I wanted something in common to talk about with Rosalie.

Ethan's name always appeared on their college forum. He was really popular among the students.

The other students called Rosalie and Ethan the campus' perfect duo.

I clicked into the forum, and the latest post was a photo of Rosalie and Ethan.

They stood on the stage, and Ethan wrapped his arm around Rosalie's waist. They were smiling brightly as if nothing in the world mattered to them.

The audience was shipping the two as a couple. I had to admit that I was jealous.

Rosalie remained silent all the time. I figured she could sense the sarcasm in Ethan's words, but she didn't speak up for me.

"I'm her boyfriend." I grinned. I didn't plan to keep our relationship a secret.

Ethan's smile froze, and he quietly withdrew his hand.

…

When I arrived at the cinema, I realized it was a high-end, private cinema.

The price of the alcohol listed on the menu was enough to make me wince.

Ethan seemed very familiar with everything here. After placing his order, he handed me the menu. "I've ordered Rosalie's favorite dishes. Have a look at the menu and order something for yourself."

This place served Welean cuisine. Even the cheapest steak cost 300 dollars per serving.

Rosalie actually enjoyed eating all this?

Before she became known as a prodigy, she came from an ordinary family, just like me.

When we went on dates, we usually ordered set meals from a roadside stall.

Sometimes, we would also splurge on barbecues. We would go for a cheap buffet even if we wanted to have Welean cuisine.

Seeing I was in a difficult situation, Rosalie finally said, "One serving of pork chop, please."

Ethan took a sip of the coffee and flashed a sarcastic grin. "Pork chop stinks."

Rosalie shook her head. "He doesn't like to eat beef."

It wasn't that I didn't like beef, but that I thought it was expensive.

A surge of bitterness rose within me when Rosalie suddenly acted so caring toward me.

She knew how to have me wrapped around her finger. She would do something to hurt me, then comfort me the very next instant.

Whenever I felt like giving up, she would give me hope to keep going.