When Love Says Goodbye

When I had a seizure, Vinny Lark was in the center of the banquet hall, dancing closely with her male secretary.

Even as I foamed at the mouth and fell unconscious, she remained wrapped around his neck, laughing, whispering and brushing cheek to cheek.

On the way home, I found a men’s wristwatch worth millions in the car’s glove compartment.

Before I could say a word, Vinny frowned, snatched it away and said coldly,

“It’s not for you.”

I nodded, drove to the bridal shop at the next intersection and parked the car.

Calmly, I said, “I have some errands to run. You can head home on your own.”

The custom-made wedding gown I had spent half a year designing for Vinny? In hindsight, it was time to return it.

——

As soon as I stepped into the bridal shop, Vinny stormed out of the car and chased after me.

She hurled a men’s coat straight at my face with force.

In an irritated tone, she snapped, “Joel, when are you going to stop being so careless and leaving your junk everywhere?”

Vinny, a neat freak, never allowed anything of mine to remain in her car.

Glancing at the coat on the ground, I said calmly, “It’s not mine.”

Hearing this, Vinny’s expression softened immediately. She carefully picked up the coat and folded it with care. I knew the coat belonged to Walter.

Every time Walter deliberately left something behind, it triggered fierce, screaming arguments between Vinny and me. But this time, I didn’t show a hint of anger.

I simply turned to the shop assistant and gave my phone number.

The assistant beamed and said, “You’ve come at the perfect time. Both the custom wedding dress and tuxedo are ready for fitting.”

Before I could decline, the woman who had just snapped at me gave a cold snort, clicked her heels and strode directly into the fitting room.

Ten minutes later, I stood before Vinny in a Western-style suit.

She curled her lips into a faint smirk and said, “Such an extravagant suit wasted on someone as short and stubby as you. Truly a pity.”

I didn’t argue with her. Instead, I asked the shop assistant to take a photo of me in the suit as a keepsake.

Noticing my indifference to her in the wedding dress, Vinny’s expression grew visibly uneasy.

At that moment, her phone rang. It was Walter.

The young man whined to her, complaining that his favorite coat had gone missing. He hinted suggestively that if a kind soul were to return it promptly, he might reward them by letting them feel his prized six-pack.

After hanging up, Vinny’s cheeks flushed crimson. She quickly changed out of the wedding dress and rushed out, clearly eager to leave.

As I listened to the sound of her car speeding away, I picked up a pair of scissors and, without hesitation, shredded the designer wedding dress she had adored for so long.

At 1:30 in the morning, while packing up my personal belongings, I received a MeTalk message. It was from Vinny

[I’m out clubbing with my girls.]

After eight years together, it was rare for Vinny to voluntarily inform me of her plans.

Glancing at the cleaning gloves on my hands, I chose, for the first time, not to immediately reply to her message.

Once I finished taking out the trash, I took a hot shower and fell asleep as soon as I hit the bed.

The next day, when Vinny returned home, she happened to catch me heading out to take the trash.

She gave me a strange look and asked, “Joel, is your phone broken?”

I shook my head and she frowned, biting her red lips. I knew why she was asking.

Whenever she stayed out too late partying, I would tirelessly text and call her, begging her to come home. But last night, her phone stayed eerily silent.

Just as I was stepping outside, Vinny asked again, “Joel, where did all the photos on the wall go?”

I glanced down at the trash bag, about to answer truthfully, when her phone vibrated.

Shouldering past me, she pressed the voice message button and spoke in a sickly sweet tone as she walked inside, “Don’t worry, sweet cheeks, I’ll send it over as soon as it’s ready.”

Hearing the sound of water running from the bathroom, I headed downstairs to take out the trash.

On my way back up, my blood sugar dropped.

Drenched in sweat, I made it back home and grabbed the fried egg sandwich sitting on the table. Just as I took a bite, Vinny’s sharp, exasperated voice cut through the air.

“Joel, are you some kind of bottomless pit?”

She marched over, snatched the half-eaten sandwich and the plate from my hands and dumped them both into the trash.

I stared at her in disbelief before asking, “You’ve always said you’re a modern woman who doesn’t do kitchens, so I’ve been the one cooking for you for eight years straight…”

"Can’t I even have one bite of the breakfast you made, even when I’m having a low blood sugar episode?" I asked.

Vinny’s gaze turned icy and sharp. “You uncivilized mutt, let me remind you—taking something without asking is stealing.”

She slipped on her high heels, swayed her hips and slammed the door on her way out.

It was the beginning of yet another round of Vinny’s silent treatment.

Almost instinctively, I picked up my phone and opened her MeTalk profile. I noticed she had updated her background photo.

It was a picture of her and Walter, fingers intertwined, holding hands.

I quietly gave it a like, then casually removed her from my pinned contacts list after eight long years.