Jason and I were campus sweethearts.

Back in junior year, we met through a competition. He claimed it was love at first sight, and from then on, he pursued me relentlessly.

At the beginning, I was not optimistic.

My parents were divorced, and custody went to my mother. But she quickly remarried, leaving me in the care of my grandparents.

I witnessed my parents' marriage collapse with my own eyes, and the fear of love was etched deep into my bones.

It was Jason who told me, again and again, that he would give me a home.

It was Jason who let me ask for reassurance a thousand times, who never tired of affirming his love.

It was Jason who slowly broke down the walls I built.

He was attentive, gentle, and always considerate of my feelings.

Everyone said he was the perfect boyfriend, and I once believed that, too.

But as days turned into years, our friends and colleagues settled down one after another, yet Jason and I never took things further.

Before my grandfather passed away, he told me his biggest regret was not being able to see me married.

And this year, my grandmother's health declined. She was already admitted to the hospital several times this year.

Jason never knew the kind of resolve it took for a timid, awkward, love-starved girl like me to propose to him repeatedly before a crowd.

Each time, he would say he wasn't ready, and I believed him.

I thought, even if he really had a fear of marriage, it did not matter. We were together so long. I could wait a little longer.

What I never expected was that, in the end, I would be waiting only to see him propose to another woman.

The woman in the mirror had eyes swollen red from crying.

I wiped away my tears, hollow as a puppet with its strings cut, and returned to my room.

I tore through drawers and closets, gathering every gift he gave me over the years.

There were hand-sewn plush bears and luxury handbags worth thousands. All together, there were more than a hundred items in total.

These things witnessed our journey from youthful beginnings to maturity. And now, they would also witness our end.

I packed everything into several large boxes and made trip after trip, dumping them into the garbage bins downstairs.

After I finished, I collapsed on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, the other side of the bed was still untouched. Jason did not come home all night.

A sharp pain twisted in my chest, but it passed quickly.

Seven years of love was not easy to let go of. But since he chose someone else, I could not keep drowning in it.

When I opened my phone, I saw a new friend request on my social media app. It was from an unmarked account.

On impulse, I thought of the assistant I saw yesterday. I clicked accept.

I tapped into the account's feed.

The latest post was a photo of two hands intertwined.

On both hands, wedding rings gleamed.

I recognized the man's hand instantly. It was Jason's.

There was a small bandage on his index finger. The injury was from when he cut himself cooking a few days ago.

I bought that bandage. It was cartoon-patterned, the kind he laughed at.

And the caption read: "When it's true love, you can't wait to walk into marriage. In half a month, I'll be Mrs. Brown."

I scrolled all the way down her feed.

She was young, fresh out of university. It was Jason's newly hired assistant.

They, too, fell in love at first sight. They knew each other for barely two months.

Two months. That was enough to take her where seven years with me never had.

I could not even describe what I felt.

Just then, Jason sent me a message.

[Baby, I'll be away on a business trip these days. Take care of yourself.]

"Baby." The word made something cold rise in me.

I suddenly recalled a joke I once saw online: [Wife, baby, and girlfriend could all be separate entities.]

I asked Jason what he thought about that.

At the time, he held me in his arms and declared solemnly.

"Any man who says that is trash. What's there to brag about? A real man has just one person. Girlfriend, baby, wife, they should all be the same woman. My dearest Jennifer, you are my girlfriend, my baby, and my wife."

How perfect his words sounded.

So why did everything change?

I did not reply to Jason. Instead, I gathered everything that belonged to me.

I called movers to pull out the sofa, the shoe cabinet, and all the other large items. I did not even leave behind the packs of tissues I bulk-bought during sales.

By the time I finished, the apartment looked noticeably empty.

I set the keys on the entryway table, dragged two large suitcases behind me, and first stopped by my small apartment before getting into a car headed for my mother's house.

It was already noon when I arrived.

My mother and stepsister were eating.

When she opened the door and saw me, her expression soured.

"You sure know how to pick your timing. Have you eaten yet?"

In truth, I did not. But I had no desire to face her scorn, so I lied and said I had.

Only then did her face soften, as though relieved I wouldn't be eating her food.

"Go sit down. Later, the Barlowe family's boy will come pick you up," she ordered, then whispered under her breath, "Such good conditions, and he just had to set his eyes on a used woman like you."

I pretended I did not hear and sat quietly on the sofa.

Not long after, there was a knock at the door.

My stepsister, who was ignoring me the whole time, suddenly sprang up and eagerly ran to answer it.

"Nathaniel, you're here!"

Nathaniel Barlowe gave her a slight nod, but showed no intention of stepping inside.

"Is Jennifer here?"

With just a simple question, my stepsister's face turned black as soot.

She snapped her head toward me and shouted sourly, "He's calling you, didn't you hear?"

When I got up to leave, she deliberately bumped into me on her way past before storming off.

I could not be bothered to argue, so I simply followed Nathaniel downstairs.

Like a gentleman, he opened the car door for me. Once we were both seated, he finally began making small talk.

"Jennifer Knox, it's been so many years since we last met."

His hand on the steering wheel was trembling slightly from nerves.

I blinked and said, "Yes, it's really been a long time."

In a way, Nathaniel and I were childhood friends.

He was the boy next door to my grandfather's house, and we grew up playing together.

It was not until high school, when I went to the city's best school and he went abroad, that our contact dwindled.

By now, it was over ten years since we last saw each other.

And yet, the strangeness between us was surprisingly little.

He drove me back to my grandfather's neighborhood, recalling story after story from our childhood days.

By dinnertime, we were still chatting happily, reluctant to stop.

Nathaniel even managed to reserve a table at a notoriously difficult-to-book restaurant.

When he went to park the car, I pushed open the restaurant's door, only to be greeted by the sight of two people I least wanted to see.

Jason, who told me he was on a business trip, and his assistant.

On his face was the gentle smile I knew so well, as he carefully cut a steak for the young woman across from him.

Her eyes sparkled, full of shyness and sweetness as she gazed at him.

If Jason and I had already broken up, I might have even thought to myself, 'What a perfect-looking pair they were. A talented man and a pretty woman, glowing with affection.'

Perhaps my stare was too intense, because Jason suddenly looked up. And across the crowd, his eyes locked directly onto mine.

In that instant, a storm of expressions crossed his face: Surprise, guilt, and finally, anger.

"Jennifer, are you following me?"

The sharp edge in his voice left me momentarily dazed. It was the first time he ever spoke to me like this.

I saw something he did not want me to see, and he was actually angry.

Glancing at his visibly shaken fiancée, Jason pulled me by the arm and dragged me out of the restaurant.

His grip was so strong that my wrist was ringed in red. But he did not even spare it a look.

Standing by the roadside, he lit a cigarette, his tone cold and detached.

"You've seen it all, so there's no point hiding it anymore. I'm getting married. Of course, not to you. She's young, and she comes from a good family. She's far more suitable for me than you are."

Even though I already prepared myself for this moment, hearing it from him straight still brought tears to my eyes.

Apparently, being together for too long became the very reason we could not get married.

What he meant was easy enough to understand: I was no longer fresh, exciting.

I stared at him in silence.

Now, dressed in an impeccable suit, successful in his career, and accompanied by a beauty. He looked nothing like the boy who once promised he would give me a home.

Seeing my tears, Jason raked his hand through his hair in irritation and stubbed out his cigarette.

"I never meant to hurt you. Really. Marcella's a good person. She doesn't even mind you being around. Can't we just stay like we were before? I can give you everything else, just not marriage."

The shamelessness of it snapped something in me. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.

The force of it jerked his head to the side.

Marcella Hopkins, the woman he just mentioned, hurried out of the restaurant at once, throwing herself protectively in front of him.

"Ms. Knox, I know you're upset. If you want to hit someone, hit me instead!"

She looked so valiant and self-sacrificing, as though I were some vicious villainess bent on destroying the perfect couple's love story.

And Jason, his eyes were full of emotion as he looked at her.

I remembered, back when he was first starting his business, how he offended someone and nearly been smashed over the head at a banquet.

When I stood in front of him then, he'd looked at me the same way.

So it wasn't that I was special. It was the situation.

Pulling Marcella behind him, Jason looked back at me with growing disgust.

"Stop making a scene, Jennifer. You need to know when to quit." He left with her, tossing the words like a warning.

With that, I was left alone, standing frozen in place, unable to move for a long time.

By the time Nathaniel arrived after parking the car, he immediately panicked.

"Jennifer, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

I forced a bitter smile. "It's nothing."

Seeing that I did not want to explain, he did not press further.

But I had no mood left to continue dinner.

After a quick apology, Nathaniel, ever the gentleman, still insisted on driving me home.

When I hesitated, he chuckled lightly. "Jennifer, don't be polite with me. If my mom finds out I didn't see you home, I'll be in trouble."

Thinking of how much Mrs. Barlowe always doted on me, I could not bring myself to refuse him.

Before we even reached my building, my phone buzzed.

It was a message from Marcella's alternate account.

She sent me a video.

I meant to watch it later, but just as the car rolled over a speed bump, my finger slipped, and the video opened.

On screen, Jason was drinking with his buddies. Their topic of conversation? Me.

"So Jennifer really caught the two of you together? Damn, she must've flipped!"

Jason let out a cold laugh. "This slap mark on my face is from her. That temper of hers is no joke."

His friends were incredulous.

"She actually dared to hit you? I thought Jennifer was your lovesick puppy!"

"Hey, you think if she finds out you're getting married, she'll try to crash the wedding?"

"Let's bet on it. I say she will."

"What? No way. Showing up at the wedding would be way too pathetic."

"Come on, this is the same woman who proposed to Jason for seven years. Enough talk. Are we betting or not?"

And just like that, they set up a wager.

Someone even boldly asked Jason himself.

"Jason, what do you think? You in?"

Jason lowered his gaze, his expression unreadable.

It was not until the others quieted down that he finally spoke, voice faint.

"Isn't the outcome obvious? Ten million. She'll definitely come. And she'll come wearing a wedding dress."