"You look stunning, Joyce!" Finley exclaimed, his eyes shining, brimming with possessiveness.

When I passed by, Joyce shot me a look, then moved right up to Finley, her voice soft and seductive. "Fin, can you help me with this zipper?"

Finley gave me a pointed look, pretending to hesitate. "Joyce, are you sure that's okay? Isn't it better to let Harry help you?"

Joyce snorted. "What? Why would it not be okay? Just do it."

And right in front of me, she let Finley zip up her dress and walked out, linking her arm with him intimately.

I knew she was trying to provoke me.

In the past, seeing her act so close to Finley would've driven me mad—I'd have stopped her from leaving.

Now, I felt nothing but calm.

Late that night, I was suddenly woken by a call.

It was Joyce's best friend, Queenie Stone.

"Harry, Joyce's drunk—come get her at the Imperial Club!"

She even sent a photo. In it, Joyce was leaning against Finley, holding him closely around the neck.

In the past, Joyce's friends had always disliked me, thought I was lame, and secretly rooted for Joyce and Finley to be together.

Now, for the first time, one of them was calling me to pick Joyce up.

I was puzzled when suddenly I heard the sound of glass shattering over the phone.

Joyce yelled, "Stop calling him! I don't need him! He's broken up with me anyway! I'm going home with Fin tonight!"

Queenie quickly interjected, "Harry, if you don't come, Joyce will leave with Finley.

I yawned. "That's good. Finley's great at taking care of her."

With that, I hung up and went back to sleep.

Some time later, I heard the front door open.

A few moments later, my bedroom door was pushed open.

Joyce stormed in, pointing at me. "Harry, why didn't you come get me? Aren't you afraid something might happen between Fin and me?"

I rubbed my bleary eyes, my mind still foggy.

Back then, if Joyce stayed out late and ignored my calls, I'd search everywhere for her.

When I finally found her at a bar, she'd yelled at me in front of everyone.

"Harry, why are you so controlling? I need my freedom!"

I could still remember the mocking looks her friends had shot me.

This time, I kept my distance, and yet Joyce still came at me like I'd done something wrong.

I was genuinely dumbfounded.

I took a deep breath and said calmly, "You're an adult. You know your limits. Besides, you're supposed to live your life freely and do whatever you want."

Joyce froze for a moment at my calmness.

She stared at my face for a long beat, then a glint of realization flickered in her eyes. A faint, half-smile tugged at her lips as she said, "So you are jealous. That photo Queenie sent… I just stumbled and ended up in Fin's arms by accident."

I yawned and looked at the time. It was two in the morning.

Joyce continued, "If it bothers you that much, I can just bring you along next time I go drinking."

When I didn't reply, she hesitated, then grew a bit impatient. "You'd only be happy if I stopped seeing Fin entirely, right?"

I shook my head helplessly. "No. I trust there's nothing going on between you two."

I couldn't help but yawn again. "I'm tired. Can we talk tomorrow?"

A hint of hurt crossed Joyce's face, and her gaze held a perplexity I couldn't quite decipher.

A few seconds later, she suddenly stepped forward, slipped off her coat, climbed onto the bed, and wrapped her arms around me. In a low voice, she said, "Harry, what's going on? Are you upset because I've been cold toward you these past few days? I'll make it up to you now, okay?"

Her hands drifted downward.

Back then, if she had done something like this, I would've jumped at the chance.

Now, I stopped her. "Sorry… I'm too tired. Not in the mood."

Joyce's face went rigid, then she suddenly erupted in anger. She slapped me hard, cursed at me, and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

I heard the living room door open, so I guessed Joyce had left.

In the past, if she'd gone out in the middle of the night, I would've chased after her immediately. But this time, I turned off the lights and went back to sleep.

I didn't know where Joyce went, but I knew she would be fine.

When I woke up the next morning, she still hadn't returned.

My flight home was tomorrow. I'd just finished packing when my friend called to set up a farewell dinner for me.

When I was dating Joyce, she wouldn't let me go out drinking and even restricted me from hanging out with my friends. Over the past year, my friends and I barely got together.

Now that I was leaving, I wanted to have a proper night out drinking with my friends.

I checked into a hotel and headed straight to the private room downstairs.

Everyone at the table was an old friend I'd known for years—except for one unfamiliar face, a young woman in her early 20s.

My friend, Kelvin Walker, smiled as he introduced her to me.

"This is Bianca Cooper, my junior at work. She's also heading back to Jeston soon. You're both from the same hometown, so I thought you two should meet."

Everyone egged me on to get her contact information. I smiled and took the initiative, asking for her number.

Right after I did that, Joyce's furious voice rang out behind me. "Harry!"

I turned, stunned.

Joyce entered the room with Finley in tow. She marched straight over to me, glaring fiercely, then spun toward Bianca as if to stake her claim. "Sorry, but Harry is my boyfriend. I don't let him exchange contact info with other women."

Bianca shot me a surprised look, remaining silent.

I saved Bianca's number anyway, and as the screen disappeared, Joyce's face darkened with rage.

She didn't yell, but the look she gave me could've killed.

The atmosphere in the room turned awkward.

Finley stepped forward to smooth things over. "Harry, I spent the whole night calming Joyce down. Don't make her angry again. We were out grabbing dinner and happened to see you. Joyce came over right away.

"She really does care about you, so how could you exchange contact information with another woman? That's basically two-timing."

Joyce fixed me with a deathly glare, her anger mounting.

Finley continued, sounding considerate, "Harry, if my being here bothers you, I can leave right now. Don't let me come between you and Joyce."

Finley had always been good at playing the innocent card while quietly stirring things up. I used to get so angry that I'd argue with him, and Joyce would always defend him.

Now, he was pulling the same stunt again—but instead of getting mad, I just watched him like he was a clown onstage.

"Why would I be bothered? Since you're here, sit down," I said casually, inviting others to take their seats. I took the spot next to Bianca.

Only two seats remained. Joyce's face darkened as she fixed me with a hard stare, her intent unmistakable—she wanted me to sit next to her.

I pretended not to notice, pouring drinks for everyone.

After I had filled up everyone's glass, Joyce couldn't hold back anymore. She said, "Harry, come outside. I need to talk to you."

I knew she didn't want to argue in front of everyone—it would be embarrassing. But I wasn't in the mood to play along.

"Whatever you want to say, say it here," I replied flatly.

Joyce's face darkened further, her nails digging into her palms.

She strode over in her heels, ready to grab me, but Kelvin quickly stood in her way and urged, "Joy, enough. You and Harry have been through so much together. We've all seen it.

"Harry even stayed here for you, going against his family. We thought you two would make it. We never expected you'd break up."

With that, Kelvin raised his glass, sighing. "It doesn't matter why things ended between you two, but Harry's leaving the city tomorrow. I hope you can part on good terms. Since you and your current boyfriend are also here today, let's all have a drink together to send Harry off."

Everyone raised their glasses and offered farewell wishes.

I smiled, downed my drink, and was about to speak when Joyce suddenly knocked over her glass, her eyes wide with tears, staring at me as if she couldn't believe what she'd just heard.