Cutting Ties and Letting Go

Percival Phelps’ little girlfriend was throwing a tantrum, and it was putting him in a bad mood.

At dinner, he kept picking up his phone to send messages.

Noticing the frown on his face, I couldn't help but speak up. "My brother’s jewelry company just launched a new collection, and sales are booming. Maybe you should buy that limited edition set for her? She’s easy to please, and pink would look great on her—"

Before I could finish, he suddenly looked up at me, his expression unreadable.

His phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a loud clatter.

I blinked and quickly added, "—it would really suit her skin tone."

...

Today was Thanksgiving Day.

On holidays like this, Percival and I usually went back to the family mansion to spend time with his parents.

Only, his parents were supposed to be away in Europe on vacation, and their flight had been delayed, so they couldn’t make it back in time for today.

Though they weren’t the most affectionate people, they were getting older and liked to put on the image of the perfect couple. They always took holidays like Thanksgiving very seriously, and had called ahead to make sure we still came to the mansion for dinner, even though they wouldn’t be there. It was their way of showing they valued family.

We didn’t want to cause any trouble, so we reluctantly agreed to go along with it.

In the afternoon, Percival and I went to my house to have a reunion meal with my parents and my brother and sister-in-law.

Later, we begrudgingly headed to the old family mansion for the dinner we were expected to attend.

Even on Thanksgiving, Percival, as CEO, still had work to do. He went back to the office right after lunch.

That evening, he came to pick me up, and we drove to the family mansion together.

But the moment we got in the car, I could tell something was off.

He didn’t greet me with his usual warm smile and hug. Instead, he gave a half-hearted twitch of his lips and immediately went back to staring at his phone.

I glanced at the screen—it was open to Instagram.

He was probably waiting for a message from someone, but it hadn’t come.

His lips pressed into a tight line, and his face darkened.

After a while, he angrily tossed the phone onto the seat, leaned back against the headrest, and closed his eyes.

I glanced at the phone as it bounced once and slid to the floor.

Raising an eyebrow, I asked, "Bad mood? Something at work?"

Percival rubbed his forehead and shot me a glare, muttering, "Don’t pretend like you don’t know."

Of course, I knew exactly what was going on.

He’d never kept his affairs with other women a secret.

Recently, he’d started seeing a new girlfriend.

At lunch, while we were at my house, his phone had rung, and he stepped outside to answer it.

It was probably her, asking him to spend the holiday with her.

Percival had refused.

He had plans to have dinner with me at the family mansion.

One thing I could say about him was that, once he made a commitment, he usually stuck to it—especially when it came to promises made to his parents.

"Sweetheart, I can’t have dinner with you tonight. You’ll have to—"

I’m sure he didn’t even get to finish the sentence before she hung up.

I’d heard the dog barking in the front yard, so I went to check. That’s when I overheard him talking gently.

Looking at the phone after the call ended, I saw a flash of resigned affection in his eyes.

It seemed like his little girlfriend was throwing a fit over it and ignoring him now.

They’d only been together a week, still in that sweet, honeymoon phase.

The drive remained silent until we reached the family mansion.

When we got out of the car, Percival leaned in, pinched my cheek, and said affectionately, "Baby, I told you—those women are just distractions. You don’t have to stoop to their level. You know I lose interest after three months at most."

This time, instead of staying silent like I usually did, I smiled and nodded. "Mhm, okay."

Percival’s expression faltered for a moment.