End Love, Discard Innocence

I waited at the station for two hours.

My boyfriend, who had promised to pick me up, was called to a hotel by a phone call from his first love. His "first love" pretended to be drunk and intentionally made a wrong video call, broadcasting their intimate scene to me live.

"Derrick, don't be like this; you have a girlfriend..."

Claire's eyes were misty as she pretended to push him away, but she deliberately leaned closer into Derrick's arms.

Derrick, the boyfriend who had promised to take care of me for the rest of my life, gazed at her with focused, intense eyes. Leaning down, he kissed her softly. "Claire, as long as you come back to me, you will always be my only girlfriend."

Claire raised her eyes to meet mine and smiled provocatively. The video ended abruptly amid their ambiguous, affectionate sounds.

I didn’t cry or make a scene. I simply called home.

“Dad, I agree to come back to the our house.”

Upon hearing that I had finally relented, my dad’s surprised voice came through the phone.

“Aiselle, my good daughter, you’ve finally come to your senses!”

“I told you a long time ago to separate from that little boyfriend of yours. He refused to come back and meet us for years. He never intended to walk this road with you..."

My dad had no idea that my so-called "little boyfriend" wasn’t young at all. He was only a few years younger than my dad—his longtime friend, Derrick.

In the three years we were together, Derrick always avoided announcing our relationship officially. Every time I suggested introducing him to my parents, he would hold me close, his expression troubled.

“Aiselle, let's hold off for a while. I’m worried your parents would feel awkward about our relationship and I also fear they might criticize me for being an old cow eating young grass.”

Every time he looked at me with that pitiful, aggrieved expression, my heart would soften. I’d pinch his face, kiss him gently and reassure him “No one dares to call you old, not even my father!”

Despite being close to forty, Derrick exuded a mature charm that captivated me. He cherished me with care and I was determined to marry him, even if my parents opposed it.

But when I thought back to the video call that Claire had orchestrated, I realized how naive and foolish I’d been.

I heard my own voice now, quiet and resolute.

“Dad, you’re right. I should have listened to you long ago. Book the ticket for me. I’ll return to paris after I settle things here. The wedding date in two weeks is fine.”

My dad happily agreed but remembered something before hanging up.

“Aiselle, do you recall Uncle Derrick from Lyon? He looked after you for a while. He’s my old friend, too. Invite him to the wedding—make sure he comes.”

I froze. All my pent-up grievances rose to my throat, but I couldn’t voice them. Ever since Claire returned to France, I hadn’t seen Derrick much.

I forced a light laugh. “He’s probably too busy to attend.”

Just then, the door to the study creaked open. Derrick, wearing pajamas and carrying a cup of hot water, walked in, raising an eyebrow at me with a smile.

“Too busy to go? Where to?”

I hurriedly hung up, praying my dad hadn’t heard Derrick’s voice. After three years together, every call with my family still demanded such caution.