Noticing the change in my mood, Paisley suddenly perked up.

"Adrian, do you see that gazebo? It's a hotspot for couples to take photos, and you can even capture today's clouds.

"There's also an arched bridge just over there. Justin loves that spot. You can hear the water gently flowing beneath it."

My chest clenched at the sound of his name, though I kept my expression steady.

Paisley quickly covered her mouth.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to," she murmured.

I shook my head, a quiet ache settling in my chest.

I kept reminding myself not to care or take it personally. But after seven years of loving her, how was I supposed to accept that even our last meal was still tangled up in memories of him?

Paisley was unusually quiet as she led me to our table. She listed off several dishes, but none of them were ones I liked.

Over the years, I'd learned Justin's tastes like the back of my hand. These were all his favorites. No matter where she went, Paisley always remembered them.

She truly carried him in her heart, leaving a piece of him in everything she did.

But this time, I let it go without protest. I simply waited for the dishes to be served.

Sensing something was wrong, Paisley looked up and asked, "Is there anything else you want to add?"

I shook my head. After all these years, what started as dislike had faded into nothing more than routine. I couldn't help but feel how pathetic I'd become.

After the waiter walked away, Paisley's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Just as I was about to ask what was wrong, she suddenly pulled out a pair of rings.

"Adrian, I know I've broken promises before, but Justin's sick. With his parents rarely around, he's come to rely on me. I can't leave him.

"You're just hung up on the idea of getting married, aren't you? We have the rings; it's only the paperwork left. It doesn't really change anything.

"What do you say?"

She said the last part hesitantly, worried I'd be upset. I forced a bitter smile and looked her in the eye.

She spoke with quiet confidence, as if she knew I'd say yes.

Was it because I'd spent seven years playing the fool? Because I was too easy to appease? Because I had only myself to blame?

But what I wanted wasn't just a piece of paper. What I craved was fairness and a love that was exclusively mine.

In that moment, the thought of ending things consumed my mind.

Paisley smiled, waiting for my answer. Just then, her phone rang, cutting off the words I was about to say.

She hastily picked up. I didn't even need to guess. The only person who could make her this worried was Justin.

A familiar voice came through the line.

"It hurts so much, Paisley… Am I going to die?"

Losing control, Paisley slammed the cutlery down. She grabbed her car keys before rushing out the door.

She didn't look back at me once. It felt just like yesterday all over again.

We were halfway to city hall when Paisley's phone rang. Growing restless, she insisted we head back.

Each of the ten times she stood me up was because Justin needed her attention.

Yesterday, I finally lost control and confronted her.

"If he's never going to get better, does that mean you'll never marry me? What do I even mean to you?"

Furious, Paisley snapped and screamed for me to leave.

"I've already promised to take care of him for the rest of his life. Can't you think about someone other than yourself?

"We've been together for seven years. Does a piece of paper really matter that much? Just go! Don't make me repeat myself!"

For seven years, I cried myself to sleep more times than I could count. She knew it better than anyone.

Back then, my feelings went beyond just anger at her. I was sinking in frustration, helpless against a situation I couldn't control. I hovered in limbo, torn between holding on and learning how to let go.

"Sir, would you like to order anything else?"

The waiter's tentative question pulled me from my thoughts. Amid the commotion, many eyes turned toward me—some filled with sympathy, others with quiet relief.

I gave a faint shake of the head and returned to my meal. Each bite tasted like dry cardboard, making it impossible to enjoy.

As she stood halfway out the door, Paisley stopped and typed a message, her words carrying a hint of regret.

"Adrian, Justin is sick. I'm taking him to the hospital and will find you as soon as I can. He's sick. Please don't take it out on him. My heart belongs to you alone."

By that point, I was almost numb. Was I really expected to back down just because he was sick?

But the truth was, I didn't owe him anything. Whether his illness was genuine or a lie, it made no difference to me.

I had checked with several friends about Justin's health.

He was born with a congenital heart defect, but thanks to proper care during his childhood and timely heart surgery, he shouldn't be experiencing frequent attacks like these.

What struck me most was how conveniently his "attacks" always seemed to occur—on my birthday, our anniversary, or the very days we were meant to register our marriage.

I had never known anyone whose symptoms flared up so predictably. Was it possible he was controlling it?

Ignoring the flood of messages on my phone, I focused instead on capturing the restaurant's surroundings.

The place was breathtaking—chalets nestled within lush gardens, towering mountains nearby, water sparkling beneath the sky, birds soaring overhead, and fish gliding gracefully below the surface of the lake.

But most of all, this place brimmed with love, quietly bearing witness to countless stories of the heart.

I shared all the photos on social media with just one line.

"Maybe seeing others happy isn't so terrible, after all."

Almost immediately, Justin posted a series of photos. It was clear he wasn't going to back down.

"You always show up right when I need you most."

In one of the photos, Paisley was resting against his shoulder, their hands clasped tightly together. This was how most couples looked. I clenched my phone and slowly sank back into my seat.

With Justin taken to the hospital, Paisley should be back shortly. I wanted to bring things to a proper close, leaving us both with a small piece of good memories to hold onto.

But it turned out I had overestimated my importance in her life. Even after the restaurant had closed, Paisley still hadn't shown up. Despite all the messages I sent, there was no response.

The night air was cold, and to make things worse, a light rain began to fall.

I didn't try to escape it or find shelter. I simply walked home along the same path I'd been following for seven years.

Despite the difficult journey, I kept moving forward.

Half an hour later, I made it home with a fever and sore throat. Paisley still hadn't returned. Having grown used to it, I collapsed into bed and quickly fell asleep.

When she finally thought of me again, the first light of dawn had already broken.

As Paisley walked in, her face was etched with remorse.

"Justin's condition was really serious, so I couldn't leave. I brought you breakfast. Please, have a bite."

Turning away, I grabbed my documents and prepared to walk out.

After being drenched by the rain, I felt completely exhausted. On top of that, I was still running a fever.

I didn't want to argue, but Paisley wouldn't give up. She grabbed my hand, stubbornly refusing to let me go.

"Why is your hand so hot—?"

Before she could finish, I jerked my hand away, desperate to maintain some dignity.

But I pulled too hard, and the documents in my grip flew from my hand, scattering across the floor. As Paisley scrambled to pick them up, her eyes went wide.

"These are international business documents… What exactly is going on here?"

The hurt in her gaze sparked an unexpected thrill within me. Without thinking, a harsh remark left my lips.

"As you can see, I've been assigned abroad. Paisley, let's break up. You're free now. No one will stand between you and Justin again!"