Just Being with You in This Life

At our office party, my boyfriend and his first love both lost in games.

A new colleague had a rapid-fire Q&A with them.

"What is Willow's favorite food?"

"Sweet and sour ribs."

"What color inner wear does Willow like best?"

"Black."

"What's her favorite flavor?"

Quentin Zander was stunned for a moment, then answered confidently, "Mint."

The crowd instantly fell into silence.

Everyone turned their eyes to me.

I put down my glass, smiled, and applauded. "You two know each other so well. Why don't you get married?"

As soon as I said this, the atmosphere in the box suddenly turned weird.

Someone pulled the gossipy new colleague to sit down next to him.

But that lady was still muttering, "What's wrong with you guys? Willow is Mr. Zander's girlfriend. I saw Mr. Zander help Willow with her bra the other day at the company..."

She wasn't loud, but the air was too quiet.

So, everyone heard her muttering clearly.

A trace of panic flashed across Quentin's face.

He turned and glared at our new colleague.

The latter immediately shrank her neck, not daring to speak anymore.

It was Willow Jackson who took the lead in speaking again.

She sat next to Quentin, moving her hips shyly. "I'm surprised you remember that."

Quentin dodged her calmly and said, "Willow just came back from abroad and has no acquaintances in the company. Her bra strap suddenly broke at the company, and no one was there to help."

Seeing him so hypocritical, I suddenly felt relieved.

We are all adults. We know men should have some boundaries around women.

Not to mention, it's about something as private as a woman's bra.

As expected, his explanation made everyone's expressions very subtle.

Willow quickly smiled and spoke out for him, "I just happened to run into Quentin that day. We grew up together, and I only regard him as a brother. Jane, please don't be mad."

Speechless, I just shrugged.

"I understand. You regarded him as your brother when you were young. Then, he would become your man after you grew up."

"But I'm not mad. So don't get me involved."

"If necessary, I can even book a room with a king-size room for you."

I said, sounding sincere.

But Willow stopped smiling, and tears began to fall from her eyes.

"Jane, I know you hate me, but there's no need to say that in front of so many people..."

Quentin wiped her tears, feeling bad for her.

He was sitting on the sofa opposite, and he suddenly became angry.

Throwing a wine glass in my direction, he said coldly, "Jane Luke, are you nuts?"

"It's just a game. Why are you being so mean?"

The wine glass was smashed on the table, and the flying fragments cut my face, leaving a bloody mark.

The colleague next to me exclaimed immediately and took a tissue to help me stop the bleeding.

Quentin frowned and moved forward.

But in the end, he stopped where he was, folded his arms, and stared at me warily.

Maybe he was afraid that I might make a scene in front of others.

He knew that I used to hate it the most when Quentin favored Willow.

I would argue with him and ask him whose boyfriend he really was when he drove Willow home and left me soaked in the rain.

I would call him over and over, begging him to come back and take me to a doctor when he left me with a high fever and went to look after Willow.

I would scold Willow for being a mistress when I saw the lipstick marks on his body.

At that time, whenever it was about Willow,

I would cry and make a fuss.

But in the face of all my emotions, he would always say, "Jane, people with a dirty heart see everything as dirty."

Then, he would give me a cold shoulder.

I, on the other hand, would reflect deeply on myself and kneel to apologize to them.

Only then would Quentin reluctantly forgive me.

I went against my conscience just to keep Quentin beside me.

But how can anyone keep someone that doesn't really care about him?