Even my coach’s violin class was adorned with my posters.

"If you want to join the orchestra, your pitch still isn’t good enough."

The girl froze mid-motion, then turned toward the voice. Her eyes widened in recognition the moment she saw me.

Her eyes widened as she murmured, "Claire…"

Maybe it was the longing in her gaze, or how much she reminded me of my younger self, that made me act on impulse.

"I’ll be visiting my coach next month. Prepare in advance and I’ll guide you."

She nodded eagerly, like a child savoring an unexpected treat. Finally, she mustered the courage to add timidly, "Thank you, Miss Dawson."

From that day on, I began coaching Mia more frequently.

Gradually, her title for me evolved. First, it was Miss Dawson, then Coach Dawson and eventually, she called me Coach Claire.

However, Lennon was not pleased after another missed date.

"That girl’s talent is mediocre at best. No amount of coaching will change that."

"And today of all days. It was our anniversary and you’d rather spend it coaching her?"

At the time, I only knew Mia’s important exam was approaching.

I reassured Lennon, promising to make it up to him the next day.

Mia worked tirelessly and eventually succeeded in passing the municipal orchestra’s examination, earning her place as a second violinist.

On the day I introduced her to the orchestra, Lennon happened to be there.

He was seated cross-legged at the center of the stage, carefully wiping his flute. His eyes glanced at Mia Blake, cold and dismissive, but he said nothing.

Mia hesitated, clearly intimidated and began to retreat. But I stopped her, holding her steady before gently pushing her forward.

Fear lingered in her eyes, but she mustered up her courage and stepped toward him.

"Mr. Sullivan, I am Coach Claire’s apprentice. Please guide me in the future."

Lennon did not even look up and continued to meticulously clean his instrument.

After a long pause, he finally uttered a sentence. "No need for me to guide you. The violin and I don’t collaborate."

"But as a second violinist, your job is to assist the first violinist."

From across the room, he gestured toward me, his voice laced with a casual warning.

I had thought the thrill of their first meeting would linger indefinitely and that I would continue mediating between them whenever necessary.

But unexpectedly, Mia no longer appeared frightened when she looked at Lennon.

Likewise, Lennon’s demeanor toward Mia now carried a trace of gentleness.

"Coach Claire, if you don’t like it, I’ll leave right now."

"But please don’t misunderstand Mr. Sullivan..."

I looked up at her. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and her timid voice was trembling.

One glance of it could captivate anyone to fall for her, let alone a man.

"Let’s go outside first." Lennon's eyes darkened as he pulled Mia to his side, then took off his coat and draped it around her shoulders.

"Claire, you’re getting old and your temper’s only getting worse. Try to be a little more patient." After saying that, he glanced at me sharply before pulling Mia into his arms and tilting his lips into a faint smile. "I’m always worried some young talent will steal your spot in the orchestra."

As he spoke, he leaned slightly, his lips brushing against Mia’s damp black hair, a gesture so casual yet so deliberate it sent a wave of provocation straight to me.

I knew exactly what Lennon was implying. Not long ago, I had refrained from recommending Mia for the orchestra’s promotion slot.

Lowering my gaze, I replied softly, " Mia’s skills still need improvement..."

"She’s your own apprentice." Lennon cut off my words. His tall frame loomed over me as he grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes.

The years of playing instruments had hardened his hands and they had already developed a thick layer of calluses, which caused the pressure of his grip stung sharply.

"Claire, your memory must be failing you. You’re the one who has ignored me countless times for your apprentice. And now you want to feign some high ground? Are you afraid that Mia will take your place?"

His cold gaze bore into me, but there was a teasing curve on his lips.

I gritted my teeth against the pain and drew a deep breath, my gaze shifting past Lennon to Mia. "Why should I be afraid of a woman with no talent?"

Mia’s face froze, her previous expression of grievance vanishing instantly.

Her lips trembled faintly as she glared at me, her anger boiling to the surface. Then, without warning, she stormed toward me and slapped me across the face.

Slap!

I was so stunned by the slap that the force instantly knocked me off balance and I staggered backward.

A stabbing pain flared in my lower back as I fell and the ringing in my ears subsided.

I gasped for air and glanced back, only to find the violin case toppled over, its delicate strings now crushed beneath the chaos.

But almost instantly, her expression shifted again, her face morphing into an image of fragile innocence.

She stumbled toward me, her body trembling and her voice shaking.

"Coach Claire, I... I didn’t mean to! I didn’t want to..."

A wry smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Without a word, I pushed her away gently, my gaze locking onto hers with a quiet, hollow pity.

The room fell into a heavy silence. At last, Lennon was unable to sit by any longer.

He walked toward me. Sliding an arm around me, he tucked my disheveled hair behind my ear and gently pressed my lower back with his other hand.

"Does it hurt here? Or anywhere else?" he asked softly, leaning in close enough that his breath brushed against my skin, causing a goosebump.

In a moment of daze, I foolishly believed that Lennon Sullivan's tenderness still belonged to me. That all his recent irritations were just his way of wanting me to take him more seriously.

Softening my tone, I sighed and began, "I didn't neglect you..."

But before I could finish, Lennon gently released me, his expression calm yet filled with an almost pleading softness as he stared at my eyes. "Don't argue with her, okay?"

I stared at him in disbelief, the man I thought I knew so well.

His tenderness, his care, his love… When had it no longer belonged to me?

I felt like a butterfly trapped in its own cocoon, unable to break free.

Tears welled uncontrollably in my eyes, spilling over and splattering onto the ground with a soft splat.

"Get out..." I trembled as I whispered, my voice breaking under the weight of suppressed anguish. I could not bear to lift my head.

I kept my head low until the door clicked softly as it was locked. The huge room was filled with silence and I was the only one left behind.

I touched my chest. The dull ache there throbbed inside.

Taking a few days off from the orchestra, I moved into a hotel.

During this time, Lennon’s messages kept coming without pause.

He asked about my back injury, where I was staying and how I was recovering.

But I frowned each time I read them. It was too late to laugh at his efforts now.

The violin that had been broken that day was the first handmade violin Lennon had ever given me. At the time, he had spent nearly all his savings on it.

I was reluctant to use it, but he had comforted me so gently, saying, "Claire, you dummy. I’ll only be happy if you use it. I’ll give you one every year from now on."

But after that, he never gave me another violin again.

He always had reasons. He was too busy, he had no time, he forgot... or he was attending Mia’s performances instead.

My gaze fell on the violin with its broken strings lying on the bed. Bitterness swelled in my heart.

I had believed in an unbreakable bond of love with Lennon Sullivan. I had trusted in the deep, nurturing connection between Mia and me as coach and apprentice. But in the end, it all felt like a puddle of mud, trampled and meaningless.

I had poured years of effort into apprentices I had carefully cultivated. I had placed my faith in a lover who was quietly betraying me, all under my nose.

Closing my eyes tightly, I resolved not to cry anymore. They were not worth my tears.

Later, during a rehearsal, I unexpectedly caught Lennon’s gaze from the audience.

His expression faltered briefly as he recognized me. For a long moment, he stared, then suddenly smiled and leaped down from the stage.

"Claire, how have you been? Why haven’t you responded to my messages these past few days?"

"Lennon, let's break up."

Lennon froze for a moment, but his composure quickly returned. With a familiar smile, he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the lounge with such force that I winced.

"Come home for dinner tonight. My mother told me to make your favorite dish."

I struggled against his grip. "Lennon, I said let's break up."

His expression stiffened, though his cheerful facade remained intact.

"Claire, stop talking nonsense."

He grasped my hands again, rubbing them gently. A faint tenderness seeped into his voice.

"That day with Mia, I just wanted to provoke you. I didn’t mean for you to feel neglected." His expression shifted to one of feigned grievance. "How could I like someone like Mia? I only love you."

His gaze carried a semblance of sincerity, but I knew better. It was all an illusion.

I shook my head, letting out a quiet sigh before turning to face him directly.

"Lennon, I don’t care who you like. And I don’t care if you still love me." Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a small velvet box, a gift I had once carefully prepared for him a long time ago.

"All I know is that I don’t love you anymore."

Opening the box, I revealed two silver cufflinks. Without hesitation, I tossed them into the trash can.

Lennon’s eyes darted to the trash, his carefully maintained calm finally cracking.

"Claire, I don’t accept this breakup. And you can’t break up with me either."

The undertone of aggression was unfamiliar, almost unnerving.

But I held my ground, meeting his gaze unwaveringly. At last, he faltered. Muttering a low curse, he turned on his heel and stormed off.

Yet after only a few steps, he stopped and spun around, his eyes rimmed with a faint redness.

"Claire, let’s both calm down. We’ll talk after the performance."

The performance he referred to was the orchestra’s founding anniversary, a grand event just two weeks away. Both of us were set to perform, with me leading the strings section.

He did not wait for my response, perhaps afraid of my rejection. Without another word, he strode out of the room, never glancing back.

I closed my eyes tightly, resting my head against the cold wall. Memories of my time with Lennon flooded my mind.

I had never been a woman who liked to linger on the past, yet I was far from decisive.

Lennon has been more than just a lover. He had been a companion and confidant for a long time in my life. His existence had carved an irreplaceable place in my heart.

Now, having torn away the fabric of our relationship with my own hands, I could not escape the aching tightness in my chest.

I covered my face with my hands, hoping that hiding behind them might let me slip away from the weight of reality, but the door burst open.

Startled, I straightened up, my heart racing as I braced for Lennon’s return.

Instead, a bright, excited voice filled the room. "Lennon! The diamond ring for your proposal has been ordered. I am sure Miss Dawson would be so moved that she would cry after seeing it!"

"Hey, do we need to start calling her Mrs. Sullivan already...?"

Alex entered with an exuberant roar. The moment he saw me, he froze mid-step, his eyes widening as if he had walked into a trap.

"Mrs. Sullivan… Uh, Miss Dawson, aren't you injured? Why are you here?"

After saying that, he stood frozen by the door, his earlier bravado deflating like a balloon.

Alex was a young wind musician who had joined the orchestra this year. He had always idolized Lennon. Smart and talented, he followed him like a loyal shadow.

His words lingered in the air and I took a moment to collect myself, schooling my expression. "You said Lennon is going to propose to me?"

Alex’s head shook furiously. I sighed, offering him a faint smile to ease his nerves. "It’s alright. I heard everything. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret. Just pretend I don’t know, okay?"

Alex curled his lips, but he could not keep his grievances bottled up any longer.

"Isn’t it the orchestra’s anniversary soon? Lennon said he wanted to propose to you after the performance. He even asked us to cooperate with him on stage..."

"He said you two have been so busy with work all these years, spending so much time apart. Now that Lennon has been promoted to management, he wants to take this chance to build a family with you."

"Miss Dawson, Lennon really loves you. You have to say yes."

If overhearing earlier had allowed me to pretend otherwise, hearing the truth laid bare before me left me momentarily dazed.

Lennon loved me. Of course, I had always known that.

But that love had long since been fragmented into countless pieces by his listless choices. Mia held one of those pieces.

I waved my hand absently as though granting the assurance Alex sought from me.

Yet, only the emptiness of a room that had grown far too quiet.

Was it my neglect of Lennon that splintered our bond into irreparable shards? Or was it the relentless ache of separation, day after day? Perhaps Mia's arrival simply hastened the inevitable unraveling of our fragile relationship.

A sudden dryness stung my eyes and my chest felt weighed down by a fog that clouded not only my vision but also my heart.

I sank into the sofa, the heaviness within me rooting me in place.

For a long time, I kept my eyes closed until the golden hues of sunset spilled through the window.

When I finally opened my eyes, everything seemed extremely clear.

It no longer mattered whether distance or Mia’s presence had played a bigger role. It did not matter how deep Lennon’s love had once been because now, it was anything but pure.

In my life, I have no need for insincerity or entanglements.

Be it as master and apprentice or as lovers, three people were always too many.

I would make them pay for every bit of harm they had inflicted upon me.

I was not a decisive woman, but I was a woman who remembered and who retaliated.

In two weeks, I would give Lennon and Mia a generous surprise.