I had been with Amanda Wright for eight years, but on the night of our engagement, she went out drinking with her first love.

I saw them with my own eyes, walking into a hotel together, arms around each other. I waited outside the hotel the entire night. The biting wind left my body numb and chilled my heart even more.

The bitter cold took its toll, and I fell seriously ill, spending half a month in the hospital. Because of this illness, I missed the chance to see my grandmother one last time before she passed away.

When I confronted her, she said, "It was just a drink with Jayden. Are you really going to make such a big deal out of it?"

Her words crushed the last remnants of hope I had for us. In utter disappointment, I quietly left her.

But then she called, crying over the phone. "Yvo, are you really going to leave me?"

——

On the night of our engagement, I had prepared 999 roses and a candlelit dinner, waiting for her to come home and celebrate. The clock ticked on, but she never showed up.

I called her five times in my worry, but she didn’t answer a single one. Eventually, I saw her post on her social media—a photo taken at her favorite bar. The image showed two tightly clasped hands, both wearing matching couple rings.

The caption read: [An unforgettable night.]

Alarmed, I rushed to the bar, only to catch a glimpse of their backs as they left. Without thinking, I followed them.

I watched as they entered a hotel, arms entwined. It was then that I forced myself to accept the harsh reality.

The man by her side bore an uncanny resemblance to me, even down to his style of dress. But then I realized: my style had always been chosen by Amanda.

Once, I had found a photo in her bag—a picture of a young man, youthful and full of innocence. That boy had now grown into a mature and composed man. It turned out it was that man.

When I asked her about it, she brushed it off, saying it was merely a keepsake from her youth. But today, her “keepsake” had made its way to a hotel bed.

Standing outside the hotel, I didn’t have the courage to confront her. All I felt was overwhelming disappointment.

My phone buzzed with a message from her. [I’m working late tonight. Go ahead and eat without me.]

I let out a bitter laugh. So, this was what “working late” looked like.

Looking back now, I realize just how much of a cheap substitute I was. In our relationship, I was always the one to back down.

Her moods were erratic, and when she was unhappy, she’d often lash out, sometimes even physically. Yet, I was always the one to apologize and make amends.

I used to think that was just her personality. But now I understand—it was simply because she didn’t love me.

I waited for five hours in the snow, only heading home as dawn broke. My legs were numb, and I collapsed into the snow, shards of glass cutting into my knees. Blood flowed freely, but I didn’t feel a thing.

Back home, I tore apart the roses I had so carefully prepared, scattering petals across the floor. They looked like the shards of my broken heart.

I stayed awake all night.

The next morning, Amanda came back as if nothing had happened. Seeing the mess in the room, she frowned, her voice tinged with impatience. “What’s wrong with you now?”

I looked at her, waves of grief washing over me, but all I could muster was a dry whisper, “Where were you last night?”

Her eyes flickered with guilt for a moment before she regained her usual cold demeanor. “I told you, I was working late. It got too late, so I slept at the office.”

I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white. Taking a deep breath, I held up my phone with a screenshot of her social media post.

Her face went pale, panic flashing in her eyes, though it was quickly replaced by anger. “You followed me?”

I let out a hollow laugh as I spat, “Followed you? I just wanted to know why my fiancée didn’t come home all night. Amanda, what do you take me for?”

Amanda bit her lip and turned her head away. "It’s just a drink with Jayden. Why are you making such a fuss?"

Every word she spoke was like a dagger, stabbing straight into my heart. My eyes turned red as I choked out, “Then what about the past few years? All the things I’ve done for you—don’t they mean anything to you?”

Hearing my words, she scoffed. “You were the one who insisted on sticking around. Don’t act like I forced you.”

She stood up and brushed past me. “I’ve got work to do. I’m leaving.”

I slumped to the floor, watching her walk away without a trace of hesitation. Eight years of my life—all of it felt like a cruel joke.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, but as the cold seeped deeper into my body, my mind grew foggy. Fighting off the suffocating feeling in my chest, I shakily dialed Amanda’s number. But all I heard was the endless busy tone.

Left with no other choice, I called 911 and had myself sent to the hospital.

The doctor said that the untreated wounds on my legs, coupled with the cold, had led to a serious infection. But worse still, I had developed pneumonia from the long hours spent in the freezing wind.

When my fever soared and I started losing consciousness, the nurse said I needed a family member to stay and take care of me. In this city, the only person I could turn to was Amanda.

With trembling hands, I dialed her number once more. The ringing tone now felt like a death knell, ticking down the seconds.

When she finally picked up, I clung to the sound like a drowning man to a lifeline. My voice was weak and pleading, “Amanda, I’m really sick. I feel terrible. Can you come and take care of me for a while?”

There was a brief silence on the other end, then I heard Jayden’s voice. “Amanda, my head hurts. Come rub it for me.”

Her voice turned soft and affectionate. “Okay.”

The next moment, her tone shifted back to the familiar cold indifference she reserved for me. “I’m busy right now. You’ll have to manage on your own.”

“Jayden has one of his migraines again. I can’t leave him.”

“But... I’m really not feeling well,” I murmured desperately.

“Isn’t there a nurse there? Just ask the nurse to help you.”

Her impatient tone stung, mocking my helplessness. Before I could say anything else, the call ended abruptly.

I stared blankly at the phone screen as tears rolled down my cheeks, the salty wetness seeping into the cracks on my lips.

When the nurse came in to change my bandages, she saw my disheveled appearance and she couldn’t help but mutter, “What’s with your family? You’re so sick, and no one’s here to take care of you.”

I gave a bitter smile. All I could think was how I’d misplaced all my love and devotion.

“She’s with someone more important.”

That afternoon, feeling slightly better, I forced myself out of bed to get some air. As I reached the doorway, I froze.

At the end of the corridor, Amanda stood with Jayden. They were leaning close, laughing and talking.

I watched as she gently adjusted his collar, her movements tender in a way I’d never seen before.

At that moment, it felt like the world collapsed around me. Any lingering affection I had for her disintegrated into ash.

I stood hidden around the corner, watching her massage his temples with utmost care.

It was a gesture of love and attention I had never been granted. It shattered any illusions I still harbored about my fiancée.

Suddenly, Jayden glanced in my direction. I quickly turned to leave, but it was too late—I’d been spotted.

“Hey, Yvo! What are you doing here?” Jayden called out, surprising me.

He knew who I was.

“Isn’t that your fiancé?” he said to Amanda, sounding amused.

Amanda followed his gaze, her expression flickering with surprise and doubt.

“What are you doing here?” she asked coldly.

I steadied myself, trying to look composed despite the pain in my legs.

“I…” I stuttered.

“You didn’t follow Jayden and me here, did you? What’s the point of doing something so pathetic?” Her voice was laced with ridicule.

Amanda's words twisted a knife in my chest. She had so thoroughly misunderstood my intentions.

“Following you? Amanda, is that how little you think of me?” My voice trembled, a mix of anger and exhaustion.

The cold air and my rising fury sent me into a fit of violent coughing, my vision blurring as my eyes reddened.

Amanda frowned slightly, a flicker of disbelief crossing her face. “Are you really sick? Why didn’t you make it clear?”

Jayden chimed in from the side, “Amanda, maybe it really is a misunderstanding. He doesn’t look well at all.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “What difference does it make now? To you, even if I were on my deathbed, it wouldn’t matter as much as his headache.”

For a moment, she looked at a loss for words. Guilt flashed in her eyes, but she quickly masked it.

“What’s your condition now? You're coughing so badly—is it contagious?” she asked coldly. “Jayden isn’t in great health. Don’t get too close to him.”

She continued, her tone distant, “Just rest up. Don’t come looking for me again until you’re fully recovered. I’ll cover your medical bills.”

With that, she turned to leave.

I watched her retreating figure, emotions churning in my chest. The promises we had once made echoed faintly in my mind, but now, they felt like cruel mockery.

“Amanda,” I called out loudly, “if you leave now, we’re finished for good.”

Her steps faltered for a brief moment, but she didn’t turn back. She walked away with Jayden, vanishing from my sight.

I slid down the wall, tears blurring my vision once again. This time, I promised myself I wouldn’t look back.

I stayed in the hospital for another two weeks. Amanda didn’t call once.

Instead, I saw her new post on her social media feed: photos of her skiing trip with Jayden. Out of nine pictures, eight were of the two of them together.

I couldn’t help but remember how she once told me she didn’t like taking pictures. Even when I tried to capture her beauty, she would wave me off. Photos of us together were rare.

I gave a self-deprecating laugh and, despite my resolve to move on, felt the familiar ache in my chest.

I tapped the “like” button on her post, the caption of which read: [Forever together.]

Within five minutes, my phone rang. It was Amanda.

“Yvo, what’s your problem?” she snapped. “So what if I went skiing with Jayden? Are you jealous just because you’re not here to join me?

“Besides, it was just skiing. Nothing else happened.”

Her indignant tone made me laugh out loud.

“Amanda, do you even hear yourself? You’re telling me that while I’ve been lying in a hospital bed, you’ve been gallivanting around with your first love just to relive your memories?”

“Forget it,” I said, cutting her off. “Don’t say another word.”

I hung up the phone, determined not to care about her anymore.

I forced myself to forget—forget her, forget Jayden, forget everything I had seen. But the harder I tried, the more vivid the memories became.

I had known Jayden was her first love, but I hadn’t realized how deeply rooted he was in her heart. Eight years of us couldn’t even compete with him.

My phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Amanda.

[If it weren’t for the fact that you treated me decently before, do you think I would’ve given you a chance?]

[In terms of looks and background, how do you compare to Jayden? Agreeing to marry you was already a favor. Now you’re being jealous? That's utterly ridiculous.]

I stared at the words that should’ve torn me apart. Strangely, I didn’t feel as hurt as I expected.

Calmly, I typed a reply. [Amanda, if you had to choose all over again, who would it be?]