My boyfriend, Zayne Jefferson, is particularly gifted in certain ways. Every time we're intimate, he insists on trying something new.

More than once, he gently coaxes me, saying, "Once you graduate, we'll get married."

And I believe him. I throw myself into my studies, pushing hard to finish my credits early. At the same time, I secretly watch all kinds of videos at night and read up on techniques. I want to keep his body satisfied.

One night, I stay up too late studying and miss curfew. I run to the bar to find him, where I overhear him chatting with his friends.

"Zayne, is your girlfriend really that wild in bed?" one guy asks.

"Of course. He trained her himself!" another guy says.

"What about Yasmin?"

Zayne exhales a stream of smoke, his eyes soft. "She's different. She's pure."

In that moment, I begin to hate him.

Back on campus, I make a call to my professor. "That secret program you mentioned… I want in."

From this day on, my life belongs only to my career.

"Mr. Levine, about that StellarVision project you mentioned earlier—I want in."

Mr. Levine was taken aback for a moment. "Are you sure? Once you join, you won't be able to contact anyone outside for at least five years.

"Didn't you turn me down last time because you said you were planning to marry your boyfriend after graduation?"

As I stood in front of the mirror, I traced the faint bruises and marks scattered across my skin. I plastered a smile on my face and responded, "I'm not getting married anymore. From now on, I just want to focus on my study and career."

After noticing how resolute I was, Mr. Levine didn't try to persuade me any further. "The transport to the base leaves in three days. You should use this time to say goodbye to your boyfriend. After all, you two are engaged."

I nodded and looked down at the ring on my finger. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought to myself, "Yeah… We are engaged."

While I was lost in thought, my phone buzzed. I received a message from my boyfriend, Zayne Jefferson. "Why aren't you replying? Come out and hang with me." The address he sent was the same bar I had just been to.

I didn't respond right away. Instead, I booted up my laptop to double-check my application form. Once I was sure everything was good, I headed out to meet him.

"What took you so long?" Zayne lazily asked as he leaned on the couch. He was obviously upset about me keeping him waiting.

"I couldn't get a cab, so I had to wait for a bit." I casually made up an excuse. I was about to sit next to him when he wrapped his arms around my waist and ordered, "Get up. That isn't your spot."

His words flipped a switch, and the room erupted in laughter.

"That's right, Emilia. That's not your spot," Zayne's childhood friend chimed in with a smirk. "You should sit on his lap, not the couch!"

Everyone else joined in with mischievous grins. "Exactly, Emilia. Look around—our dates are all sitting on our laps."

I glanced around and indeed noticed that most of the guys had scantily clad women draped over them.

When they caught me looking, the men became even more brazen, their breathing growing heavier and filling the room.

Zayne's childhood friend gave me a pointed look while groping the woman in his arms. "Don't just stand there, Emilia. Take care of Zayne, too!"

I didn't say a word, but my heart sank.

I recognized these women—they were Hooters girls while I was Zayne's fiancée—or at least that's what I was supposed to be.

I touched the engagement ring on my finger and looked at Zayne, who hadn't said a word the whole time. I was waiting for him to say something—anything. But he just kept his gaze on his drink, acting like he didn't hear the mockery in his friends' words.

It wasn't until the room fell completely silent that Zayne reluctantly reached out his hand and half-heartedly comforted me, saying, "They're just joking. Don't take it to heart."

When I didn't respond, he adopted a stern tone and told the others to cut it out before tugging me down to sit beside him. "Alright, chill out. I'll tell them off next time."

The atmosphere became lively again. I leaned against Zayne, my mind racing, trying to figure out how to break up with him.

Just then, the door to the private room swung open, and Yasmin Lambert walked in, dressed in a flowing white dress. "Zayne?"

In an instant, everyone shoved the women off their laps and hurriedly adjusted their clothes.

Zayne was no exception. He pushed me aside, rose from his seat, and hurried over to Yasmin. He gently covered her eyes. "Yasmin, sweetheart, wait just a second while we clean up."

Then, he shot a warning look at the others. "Well? Hurry up and get these people out of here! We can't have Yasmin seeing this mess."

Everyone jumped into action. Some rushed to open the windows while others ushered the women out. One of them even flipped on the bright overhead lights, lighting up the entire room.

It was too bright for a place like this, but it did nothing to chase away the darkness in my heart.

So, this was what Zayne was like when he truly cared about someone.

I suddenly lost all desire to stay. I rose from the couch and got ready to leave.

My movement caught everyone off guard. One of the guys hurriedly reminded Zayne, saying, "Zayne, Emilia's still here."

Zayne frowned and instinctively said, "So what? It's not like—" He seemed to realize what he'd said and reluctantly lowered his hand that was covering Yasmin's eyes. Then, he tried to cover his tracks and explained, "Yasmin's still young. She's not used to this sort of thing. She's not like you."

I smiled, but it was hollow.

He had forgotten that Yasmin was actually a year older than me. But since I wasn't someone who mattered to him, he didn't care about how I felt.

I tried to walk around them to the exit, but Yasmin abruptly stopped me and sweetly said, "Please don't be upset, Emilia. I'm just here to return something." As soon as her words fell, she opened a small jewelry box to reveal a massive diamond ring.

"When I saw the ring on your finger last time, I couldn't help but envy you and said that I wanted one too. I didn't think…" Yasmin looked at Zayne shyly and chirped, "I didn't think Zayne would actually remember and get me such an extravagant diamond ring. I heard it's the kind that can only be custom-made once in a lifetime. I felt bad about it, so I came to return it to you, Emilia."

Even though she claimed she was returning it, her hand remained firmly wrapped around the box. It was as if she couldn't bring herself to let it go.

I looked down at the plain silver band on my finger, and a bitter laugh bubbled up inside me.

We'd been together for two years—730 days to be exact—and all Zayne had ever given me was a simple silver ring that was barely worth 200 dollars. Whether in bed or out, I'd always been the bargain option.

I took a few steps back and did something I had never done before—I didn't care about Zayne's pride. I pushed open the door and walked out.

The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted.

"Who does she think she is, walking out on Zayne like that?" someone loudly snickered.

"Zip it!" Zayne snapped, glaring at the guy with a dark and stormy expression.

By the time I left the bar, it was already 3:00 am. The streets were almost empty, with just an occasional gust of biting wind pulling me back into my memories.

I met Zayne two years ago during my part-time job. He told me he'd never met someone as pure as me, and he wanted me to have a relationship with him that would never end.

I laughed it off and rejected him over and over. It wasn't until that year's New Year's Eve when my stepfather secretly pried open my bedroom door.

Terrified, I called Zayne.

On that snowy night, he took me by the hand, helped me escape from hell, and promised to give me a home.

That was all I wanted—a home.

We had been together for two years, and Zayne had coaxed me into countless nights of passion and promised me over and over that he would marry me. But it had been six months since we got engaged, and I was just now realizing that I'd never even met his family.

All I had was this simple, cheap silver ring. What a load of crap—engagement, love, all of it…

Tears blurred my vision as I ripped the engagement ring off and tossed it into a nearby trash can. "I don't want to marry you anymore, Zayne," I said to myself.

…

The next morning, I woke up early and started packing my bags.

Zayne, who hadn't returned home all night, walked in and froze before grabbing my hand. "Where are you going?"

Without looking up, I answered, "My finals are coming up, so I'm moving back to campus."

His expression softened, and he slipped his arms around my waist from behind. "How long will you be gone? You know I can't survive without you," he said.

I used to enjoy moments like this—the sweetness, the intimacy. But now, for some reason, it just made me feel sick to my stomach. I pulled away from his embrace and continued packing my things.

Zayne casually glanced over and immediately noticed my finger. His gaze darkened as he asked, "Where's your ring? Why aren't you wearing it?"

The rapid-fire questions caught me off guard. "It got dirty, so I took it off."

I wasn't sure if it was just my imagination, but it seemed like he let out a sigh of relief. He smiled and casually said, "Since it's dirty, you should just get rid of it. It wasn't worth much anyway. I'll buy you a better one tomorrow."

Right. It wasn't worth much.

Two years ago, when Zayne proposed to me, we were in a hotel room. After passion, I looked up at him with teary eyes and asked, "Will you marry me, Zayne?"

He froze for a second before pulling out a plain silver ring from his pocket and sliding it onto my finger. There were no flowers, no applause, and definitely no getting on one knee. Yet, I still foolishly believed he would make me the happiest woman on earth.

Upon looking back now, I couldn't help but laugh at my own naivety.

I zipped up my suitcase and went to the bathroom to wash my hands. All of a sudden, my phone buzzed with a notification—Yasmin had uploaded a proposal video on her social media.

In the shaky footage, Zayne had gotten down on one knee in front of everyone and carefully slid a massive diamond ring onto her finger. Meanwhile, the crowd was cheering.

The large diamond sparkled under the lights and almost blinded me.

I tried to watch it again, but the video had already disappeared. All that was left was an apology from Yasmin.

"Please don't be upset, Emilia. It was just a joke. I don't know how I accidentally tagged you.

"We'd all agreed not to tell you. You're not mad, are you, Emilia?" Her taunting words kept coming, one after another.

Just then, Zayne knocked on the door. "What kind of ring do you like, Em? I'll take you shopping tomorrow, okay?"

The brutal disconnect between his words and reality clawed at my already-shattered heart. I sniffled and exulted, "Okay!"