I was Blinded by Your Love

On the eve of our engagement, my boyfriend got drunk at a gathering with his friends.

I stood outside the private room, ready to take him home, but I accidentally overheard him bragging to his friends:

"My girlfriend is totally devoted to me."

His friends praised him and asked him to share his secrets on how to keep his woman in check.

He said, "It was nothing. I just drove four hours across provinces to visit her."

I was touched at first, but then I heard his next sentence:

"She was young, pretty, and clean back then. Even when you factor in the tolls and gas, it was still cheaper than hiring a prostitute."

My heart sank into an icy abyss.

——

We were about to get married, and the beautiful dream I had held onto for years was suddenly shattered.

Inside, I could still hear his clear, pleasant voice: "You guys better not tell her."

"All these years, she’s always believed I truly loved her, saying she’ll never forget the way my eyes sparkled when I was drenched in the rain."

One of his friends, even more drunk than him, slurred, "Bro, you’re really lucky to have found someone that dumb."

Someone else snickered: "Bro, you and your fiancée didn’t meet at a brothel, did you?"

The room erupted in laughter.

I felt dizzy, glancing at the room number, hoping the person who said those words only sounded like Ryan Hale.

But the conversations continued, and Ryan's distinct, gentle voice destroyed the last bit of hope I had.

He jokingly cursed, tossing a beer bottle on the floor:

"I’ll rip your mouth off for saying something like that!"

"Don’t tell her, or I’ll lose my control over her."

While the room buzzed with laughter, my heart felt as cold as a frosty day in February.

Up until that moment, I thought I had found true love—slow-cooked affection in a fast-food era.

I never imagined I had encountered a devil in human disguise.

"Bro, that was years ago. Are you still looking for someone now?"

Ryan’s tone sounded extremely proud:

"Not yet, I’ll wait until I get bored with her."

I was so angry I felt dizzy, clutching the door to keep from vomiting.

Just from how he belittled me in front of his friends,

there was no way I could continue this relationship.

A server noticed my dazed expression and pushed the door open, delivering a case of beer.

The laughter in the room abruptly stopped when they saw me.

Ryan, his face splashed with alcohol, froze on the spot.

He quickly adjusted his expression,

ignoring my upset look, and smiled slightly at me:

"Claire, you came to pick me up?"

He didn’t care about the hurtful things he said.

After all, it wasn’t the first time he had spoken ill of me behind my back.

He was convinced that, with just a few sweet words, the matter would blow over.

But he shouldn’t have let me find out

that his feelings for me were a mix of false affection and deceit.

The atmosphere in the room gradually cooled,

but his brash friends were unfazed.

One of them grinned at me:

"Don’t be mad, sis. It’s bad for your liver. How about a drink with us?"

I ignored him, walked over to Ryan, and slapped him hard.

A red handprint quickly surfaced on his face.

I studied it for a moment—it wasn’t very symmetrical.

Before he could react, I slapped him again with my other hand.

Seeing his cheeks turn bright red, I felt relieved. I threw down a breakup and quickly walked away.

I didn’t want to stay in that disgusting environment for even another second.

Ryan, clutching his burning face, hurried after me, leaving his phone behind.

"Claire, trust me, I was just joking with them!"

Ryan grabbed my hand.

"Why can’t you be more understanding? I didn’t really do it—I was just talking!"

"Everyone chats about stuff like this. If I didn’t join in, I’d be out of place."

I stopped and turned to look into his eyes.

Three years ago, we had just graduated and were living apart because of work.

That summer’s downpour came so suddenly,

and he waited for me after work, standing in the rain outside.

To make sure I’d see him first, he stood outside the car, getting completely drenched.

I remember his clear, bright eyes, shining as they looked at me.

So warm, so intense.

He said with deep affection:

"I missed you so much, Claire."

It was so easy to fall into that kind of tender love.

But now I know the real reason he drove four hours to see me:

because I was cheaper than a prostitute.

Yes, hiring one comes with the risk of getting caught or contracting a disease.

But finding me was cheaper, cleaner, and safer.

And he could make me feel touched while taking whatever he wanted.

It was a win-win situation—why wouldn’t he enjoy it?

I stared into his insincere eyes, disappointment flooding my heart.

"I’ll pack up the gifts you bought me and return them to you."

"This is the end for us."

Ryan stood frozen in place, his confusion seemingly genuine.

He may not have actually gone, but he was already tainted.

And who would want a man who isn’t clean?

At least, I don’t.