On the day of our engagement, my girlfriend, Jean Sullivan, is nowhere to be found until late at night.

Beside myself with worry, I, Seth Lloyd, frantically reach out to our mutual friends and even consider calling the police.

Suddenly, I come across a post about her from her assistant, Callum Cox.

"My manager came over to discuss some plans, but the door lock suddenly broke. Does this mean we're going to be stuck in the same room tonight? I can't help feeling a little excited."

When I like the post, Jean immediately calls me, furious. "Don't you have any idea how much I earn in a year? Just one day of my lost income would cover what you make in a whole week.

"All I did was skip that stupid engagement party, and you start acting all snide. I don't have time to deal with your stingy relatives."

My mom, Teresa Whitfield, stays silent, her eyes sweeping over the gold, eight sets of haute couture jewelry, and several property transfer deeds in the private room.

With a forced smile, she asks, "Seth, have all these wedding gifts we've prepared embarrassed you?"

I sneer, caressing the keys to the luxury car I'm about to give Jean. "No, it's me who's being too generous to her."

When my girlfriend, Jean Sullivan, got back, I, Seth Lloyd, was in the living room playing video games with my friends.

She ignored their enthusiastic greetings, gave me a fierce glare, and clomped up the stairs in her heels. Even with the game volume turned all the way up, I could still hear her door slam upstairs like thunder.

One of my friends scratched his head, hesitated, and said, "Maybe we should head out. Why don't you go calm her down?"

I scoffed. "Who the hell does she think she is?"

They stared at me in shock, then silently gave me a thumbs-up. "Way to go, Seth. Finally, you're standing up for yourself."

Jean used to really hate it whenever I played games with my friends. In her words, we were a bunch of stinky guys who couldn't hold our own and had no ambition.

Because of that, I hadn't even touched a game console for almost two years. Tonight, I had been gaming with my friends until well past midnight.

I cast a glance at the tightly shut bedroom door and headed straight to the guest room.

Later, just as I was drifting off into a slumber, Jean suddenly burst in, frantically rummaging through the closet. Normally, I'd have sprung up to help her, but now, all I wanted was to lie there in peace.

After a few minutes of clattering around, Jean fell silent. I heard her rapid breathing behind me and felt her burning stare fixed on me.

Then, she flicked on the light, and a blinding beam hit me. I instinctively shielded my eyes.

She yanked the covers off me and glared at me, furious. "Seth, do you know where you went wrong?"

I just found it funny how flustered and angry she looked.

I hadn't even questioned her about skipping the engagement party for no reason or sleeping with her assistant, Callum Cox. And yet here she was, confronting me instead.

I looked at her coldly. "So, where did I go wrong?"

Jean was shaking with anger. She grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at me. "I gave you a chance, and you're still refusing to admit you're wrong, huh? Don't come crawling to me tomorrow, begging for forgiveness."

She glared at me in silence, as if daring me to give in.

I didn't even glance at her. I buried my head under the covers and went back to sleep. Soon, I heard the heavy slam of the door as she stormed out.

I couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. How pathetic must I seem to her for her to think she can strut around and act so brazenly in front of me?

I slept through the night without a single dream, deeply and peacefully.

…

When I got up, I smelled a sweet aroma. Confused, I walked into the dining room.

I was surprised to see breakfast laid out on the table, as if by magic. There were a few delicate cakes on the plates, as well as steaming cups of coffee.

Jean peeked out from the kitchen in an apron, her expression cold. "Go ahead and eat."

We'd been together for over three years, and I'd never tasted her cooking. I picked up a piece of cake with my fork and took a bite.

Jean dragged a chair back, the screech piercing the air, and sat down without a word.

After a tense moment, she softened her voice. "Is it any good?"

With my head down, I idly scrolled through my phone. I was about to say it was not bad when I saw Callum's latest post.

"I just mentioned in passing that I wanted some blueberry cake last night, and she said she'd make it personally for me. I'm so excited."

Chewing the sweet-and-tart blueberries, my stomach churned violently. With yesterday's ice-cold beer still in my stomach, I couldn't hold it in any longer. I bolted to the bathroom and vomited violently.

Jean stormed after me, fuming. "Seth! I'm being nice to you, and this is how you repay me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

I gagged, veins bulging on my temples, my face flushing. I turned to face Jean, wanting to explain, but she smashed the glass in her hand toward me.

A sudden, sharp pain surged through my temple. Instinctively, I wiped at it and found my hand dripping with blood.

Flustered, Jean shouted, "A-Are you blind? Why didn't you dodge? I'm taking you to the hospital."

She stepped forward to help me, her face somber.

The moment I opened the car door, I saw men's underwear on the passenger seat. Wordlessly, I opened the back door.

Jean hurriedly stuffed it away and gave me an embarrassed look. "I bought this for you—"

"Enough. Just take me to the hospital," I interrupted her coldly, my patience worn thin.

She kept making small talk along the way. However, I just stared out the window, lost in the passing scenery, offering her nothing in return. It was just like how she used to be with me, as if saying even a few words to me was a huge favor.

Jean suddenly fell silent. She put on her earpiece and answered a call, her tone growing anxious. "Don't panic. I'll be there right away."

She pulled the car over abruptly. "Get out. I've got urgent business at the office."

I glanced out at the highway, the endless fields beside it, and then down at the blood left on my hand.

I stared at her, incredulous. "You want me to get out right here?"

She urged impatiently, "You're old enough. Can't you just take a cab?"

I drew in a few deep breaths and swung the car door open.

I hadn't even regained my balance when she sped off, nearly clipping me and sending me sprawling. A horn blared behind me as a massive truck raced past, inches to spare.

With no choice, I had to detour along a narrow, bramble-choked path beside the road.

It was the height of summer, and the scorching sun overhead left me dizzy. Sweat soaked my clothes, sticking to my skin. It felt as if every drop of moisture had been sucked from my body, and my throat burned with thirst.

Just as I was about to collapse from exhaustion, I was fortunate enough to encounter an elderly man busy working in the fields, who helped me get to the hospital.

Completely drained, I drifted into a deep sleep with the IV still in my arm.

A woman nearby woke me, clicking her tongue. "Your forehead is all swollen and bleeding so much. Why didn't you call the nurse?"

I gave her a grateful glance, then lowered my eyes to unlock my phone. There were no new messages. Instinctively, I tapped on Callum's Instagram.

"The cat was in a huff and refused to eat, but as soon as she arrived, she soothed it in no time."

In the video, Jean cradled the cat, her eyes melting with adoration. She patiently tore a piece of meat into tiny strips and fed it slowly.

The world around me grew silent, leaving only the IV's rhythmic drip. Cold and piercing, it coursed through my veins, drilling a gaping hole in my heart.

I scrolled through old photos with vacant eyes. How had I fallen in love with her back then?

At the time, she was an intern, and I was the department manager. I remembered she was always the first to arrive at work and the last to leave. Back then, I just thought she was really diligent.

That was until one late night, when I was gaming with my friends at a hotel and had ordered some late-night food.

I opened the door and saw Jean, breathless and worn out from rushing here, handing me the delivery.

When she recognized me, she gave a sheepish smile. Her eyes curved like crescent moons, and shallow dimples appeared on her slightly chubby cheeks.

Before I could say a word, she raised her phone and waved it slightly, signaling that she had to rush off for the next delivery.

Watching her petite silhouette as she hurried away, a pang of affection stirred in my heart.

I started assigning some of the better clients to her. She really rose to the occasion, her performance improving steadily. It wasn't long before she became the department's top performer.

Through it all, Jean and I fell passionately in love.

I leveraged my family's connections to connect her with top-tier clients, and her position rose steadily.

I watched her take center stage at the company's annual gala for her formal appointment by the board of directors. Bathed in the spotlight, she wore a black evening gown, radiating confidence and dazzling brilliance.

Pride swelled within me. The rose I had tenderly nurtured with my own hands had finally bloomed.

To preserve her pride, I never revealed the truth about my family background or the real reason she got promoted.

But as her income rose, I felt smaller and smaller in her eyes. Had I not yielded and compromised repeatedly, our relationship might have long since ended.

I dragged myself home, exhausted, and opened the door to hear laughter. Jean was leaning against Callum's shoulder, playing with the cat he held.

When she saw me, she looked uneasy. She rose and straightened her clothes. "Is your wound healed?"

I turned and headed upstairs, pretending not to hear her. I had only come back to gather my things.

But Jean hurried after me and clutched my wrist. "Are you angry?"

She knew I'd be angry, but she still went on testing my limits.

I wrenched my hand free. Caught off guard, she hit the metal railing of the stairs and gasped sharply in pain.

Normally, I would have gently held her hand, checking for injuries, and searched through the drawers for a first-aid kit. But now, my heart felt completely still. I went upstairs without so much as a second glance.

Jean looked at me, both shocked and hurt.

Callum ran over. "Jean, are you okay? How could he—"

"Shut up!" she snapped, then seemed to realize she'd been too harsh. "You should go back first."

Callum glared at me with resentment, then grabbed the cat and slammed the door, leaving reluctantly.

After that, Jean followed me into the bedroom and wrapped her arms around my waist from behind, murmuring, "Please, don't be mad, okay?"

"I'm not mad. There's still salmon in the fridge. You can give it to the cat later."

I could feel her going rigid. She stayed quiet, her silence unbroken for a long time as her hands trembled slightly. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I thought I could feel her tears soaking my clothes.

After a long silence, she finally spoke, her voice choked with emotion. "Seth, why have you been acting differently than usual these past two days?"

Despite everything, I held my tongue, unable to bring myself to end things with her. "Let's each take some time to cool off for now."

All of a sudden, Jean's voice rose sharply, full of anger, as she glared at me. "What do you mean by that? Have I spoiled you too much these past two days? And you're still crossing the line?

"I'm giving you one last chance, Seth. Apologize right now, or we're done!"

Whenever she got angry, she'd block my number and all my social media accounts, giving me no chance to explain. I'd spend sleepless nights tossing and turning, trying every platform to see if I could reach her.

Sometimes, I'd send her money on Venmo. Other times, I'd make a new account just to add her again, swallowing my pride and begging her to forgive me.

But this time, I just looked her in the eye, calm and unshaken. "Fine."

Jean froze, her gaze vacant, as if she were looking at a stranger. After all, I'd always stooped to beg her to stay whenever she mentioned breaking up before.

Her lips parted slightly, and after a long pause, she whispered, "Seth, I mean that we'll break up if you don't apologize."

I looked at her with a detached expression. "Yes. Let's break up."