My boyfriend's "best female friend" was angry again.

Why? Because for our five-year anniversary, he got a gift just for me—and forgot about hers.

Simone Baker threw a complete fit, sobbing and making a huge scene. Scott Tanner immediately blocked me and removed me on Instagram, then changed our matching couple profile pictures.

"Girls can be so dramatic," he said. "Once I've calmed her down, we'll switch them back."

I reminded him, "That makes a hundred times now."

He just smiled and gave me a quick kiss. "I know. I'll make it fast this time."

That night, Simone posted a status update: [Your effort was acceptable. You get three days of freedom.]

Almost immediately, Scott unblocked me.

[Okay, babe. We can put our couple pictures back now.]

But then a male account—using my half of the matching photo—sent him a friend request, followed by a single question mark.

[Since when are couple photos a group project?]

Scott looked at the message from the unknown account and suddenly laughed.

"Babe, you finally figured out how to get under my skin."

He shook his phone lightly, stood up, and pulled me into his arms. "This is on me. For the last ninety-nine times, you never really got mad. So you've finally learned to be upset, huh?"

"I'm not 'getting upset.'" I pushed him away. "I'm breaking up with you. For real."

"Hahaha!"

Scott wrapped his arm around me again. "Okay, okay. I know I messed up. They say fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me… but you put up with me ninety-nine times. Of course I should've gotten a clue.

"That's why I came back this time. To make it right."

A gift box appeared in front of me.

When I opened it, twelve pigeon's blood rubies lay inside, perfectly arranged.

"Last year around this time, you said you'd marry the man who bought you sunrise rubies. Sweetheart, twelve stones—one for every month. Do you like what I've been working on this past year?"

Without warning, Scott dropped to one knee. A diamond ring glinted in his hand.

At the same moment, the doors to the surrounding rooms flew open. Our mutual friends rushed out, setting off party poppers.

"Happy 25th birthday, Fiona!"

"Marry him! Marry him!"

It was so overwhelming I didn't know how to react.

At the last auction, a single set of these precious rubies had gone for ten million.

I'd only said it offhandedly. He actually remembered?

As streamers tangled in my hair, Scott took my hand and slid the diamond ring onto my finger. "Baby, I've been waiting for this day forever."

Suddenly, his phone rang.

He answered it—and the smile on his face vanished.

I could hear Simone's furious voice clearly through the receiver, "Who said you could propose?! I only gave you three days of freedom! Forgetting my gift was bad enough, and now you propose to her?! Did you get my permission?! What do you think I am?!"

Scott went rigid.

Then, almost on instinct, he looked toward our group of friends.

One of them, who had been filming the whole thing, froze and quickly lowered his phone.

Scott shot him a murderous look, yanked the ring off my finger, and turned to leave.

"No, Simone—wait, I wasn't trying to hide it from you!"

"Hey! Scott!"

Someone tried to stop him. "What about Fiona—"

"Forget about her! Just clean this up!"

Someone glanced at me, shook his head, clicked his tongue, and closed the box of rubies before taking it away.

"Tsk. I thought Scott was finally serious this time. Guess some people just don't have the luck."

"Hah, what do you think he'll have to do to get back in Simone's good graces this time? She's seriously pissed."

"Well, if nothing else, he can give that box of rubies to Simone to smooth things over, right?"

That night, Simone did post an update.

A photo of the twelve rubies, tossed in a trash can. The caption read: [If it's something dirty that someone else touched, I don't want it.]

Right after that, another post went live on her account.

The photo showed twenty-four flawless sapphires, gleaming inside a custom velvet jewelry box.

Simone's slender fingers rested on the lid. On her ring finger was a designer diamond ring.

[Compared to red, blue is way classier. And since someone gave me his one-and-only, lifetime custom slot… I guess I can forgive you.]

Scott liked the post.

[Thank you for your mercy, Simone.]

Beneath it, their mutual friends had lined up in the likes section.

In the past, I probably would have cried, made a scene, and demanded an explanation from Scott.

But this time, I just tapped "like," then deleted Simone's contact.

I deleted all those so-called mutual friends, too.

The account using my half of the couple picture suddenly sent a message.

[Fiona, when I switched to the matching profile pic with you… it wasn't just to help you vent. I actually…

[You know what I mean, right?]

I sighed.

[Thank you, Tommy. I understand, and I really appreciate you having my back.

[I'm just not looking for a relationship right now. I've decided to take the overseas assignment. For the next few years, I want to focus on my career and nothing else.]

There was a long pause on the other end.

Finally, a reply came.

[I support your decision. But if you ever need anything, I'm here.]

I sent a "thank you" sticker, feeling a quiet warmth spreading in my chest.

We'd still be working together overseas. I could find a way to repay his kindness properly then.

That same night, I packed my bags.

I didn't have much.

The apartment was Scott's. The renovations were paid for by Scott. Even the appliances were bought by Scott.

Aside from some personal items, there was nothing of mine to take.

Maybe that was why, after a hundred betrayals over five years, all I felt was a hollow kind of calm.

I left the little home we'd shared for five years and checked into a temporary hotel arranged by the company, waiting for my overseas transfer the following week.

Just as I grabbed my swimsuit and towel, headed for the hotel pool, someone grabbed me from behind.

"Hey! Look who decided to show up!"

"Scott just finished smoothing things over with Simone and threw a party to celebrate. We even texted you—why'd you delete us?"

"Fiona, if you're fighting with Scott, don't take it out on us!"

"Good thing you were just sulking. See? You came after all. Come on, everyone's inside waiting!"

I slapped away the hands reaching for me.

"Sorry. I've broken up with Scott."

The elevator doors opened. I'd just stepped one foot in when a hand slammed against the doorframe.

"Come on, Fiona. Simone's waiting for you inside. Don't make this harder than it has to be—"

I slapped him across his face.

"She's waiting, so I have to go? Who the hell do you think you are?!"

"You—!"

"Get lost!" I cut him off. "Don't make this ugly."

"Why so tense?"

A familiar voice drifted over.

I turned. Scott was walking toward us, smiling, one arm draped around Simone's shoulders.

Simone wore a custom evening gown studded with scattered diamonds.

The most eye-catching things were the twenty-four sapphires sewn into it.

"I'm not upset anymore," she said sweetly. "Why is Fiona still making a fuss? Here, let me take you inside myself."

Simone grabbed my hand and squeezed hard.

The sharp edge of the gemstone on her ring dug into my palm. I winced and yanked my hand back.

"Don't touch me!"

The sudden movement stunned everyone.

Even Scott's expression flickered. Then he smiled again and stepped forward to pull me to his side.

"Babe, don't be mad. I'll take you in myself. Simone's in a good mood today—give me some face, okay? Be good."

"Get off me!"

I shoved him hard, sending him stumbling back two steps.

"I said we're really broken up! Do you not get it?! If you still don't believe me… fine. I'll say it right here in front of everyone, one more time: Scott and I are over!"

Scott's smile vanished.

Someone in the crowd let out a derisive snort.

"So, is she for real or what?"

"It's an act. I'll bet five dollars."

"Ten!"

"A grand!"

"No way, seriously?"

"What, you actually think she means it?"

"Psh, figures. Let's keep it small then—ten thousand!"

"Wait, no one's betting that she's over him for real? What's even the point? Hahaha!"

Simone raised her hand.

"100,000 dollars. I bet she's serious."

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

Sharp glares and shrill laughter closed in around me. I clenched my fists.

The elevator doors slid open again, and I turned to leave.

"Hey! Fiona, don't go!"

Simone lunged for me just as the doors began to close.

Her movement was too violent—half my body got caught in the doors. With a loud groan, the elevator jolted downward a short distance.

I staggered and collapsed onto the floor.

Looking at the elevator now suspended in mid-air, a chill ran through me. If I'd been a second slower…

I grabbed Simone's arm and, in one swift motion, slapped her hard across the face.

"Do you have any idea what you just did?!"

"Simone!"

Panic instantly flashed across Scott's face. He rushed forward and scooped her into his arms.

"Simone…"

His trembling fingertips gently brushed the side of her reddened face before he looked up at me. His expression was cold. Distant. Veiled with a hatred I'd never seen before.

So… this was how important she was to him? Even after what she'd done, she couldn't take a single slap?

"Fiona…"

His voice was low, terrifyingly so.

Their friends immediately understood. They moved in, forming a tight circle around me.

I scanned the ring of people. Most were men—some twice as broad as me.

I lifted my chin and met Scott's gaze.

"What are you going to do?"

He hesitated.

I stepped forward.

"Planning to kill me right here?"

The veins on the back of Scott's hands bulged instantly.

I held his stare, unflinching, unwavering.

"Let's go back."

He gritted his teeth and helped Simone to her feet.

She froze.

"Scott? She hit me!"

"I said, let's go back!"

He repeated, his voice icy and final.

"Scott!"

Her teeth were clenched so tight I could almost hear them grind. Tears streamed down her face. But this time, Scott didn't comfort her. He just kept his cold eyes locked on me as he led her away by the hand.

I closed my eyes, letting the storm of emotions settle.

I picked up my towel and swimsuit and took the stairs down to the first-floor pool.

But when I finished my swim and went to shower, all my clothes were gone.

"Well, well, look who it is?"

A familiar voice rang out. I turned.

Simone's friends were holding my clothes, waving them in the air with smug, disdainful smirks.

"Give those back!"

I lunged forward, but another girl yanked the changing room door open and shoved me out into the open.

"Oh my god! She's not wearing anything?!"

"No way, how trashy can you be?"

"Psh! Not bad though. Anyone get a pic?"

"Already did! Posting it in the group chat now!"

The sharp click of leather dress shoes on marble cut through the chatter. Everyone fell silent.

"Huh? Scott is here too?"

I looked up. Scott stood before me, holding Simone's hand.

He stopped directly in front of me.

Behind him, Simone's earlier anger was gone. Every curve of her face now radiated pure, gloating triumph.

"Are you satisfied with this punishment?"