That night, I waited for Daniel at the restaurant until 10:30, but he still hadn’t shown up.

He had stood me up again.

As I glanced at the Status Update Isabella had posted, I was surprised to find that my heart didn’t stir in the slightest.

In that moment, I realized I had already let go.

...

This restaurant had been reserved by Daniel in advance.

Last month, on Isabella’s birthday, Daniel took her to the beach to watch the sunrise.

I had angrily confronted him about it, but he turned it around, accusing me of being paranoid, saying it was just a group of friends going together, not just the two of them.

Because of that, we stopped talking and ended up in a cold war for half a month.

Yesterday, Daniel sent me a screenshot of the restaurant reservation.

I knew he was trying to ease the tension. After every argument or period of silence between us, I was always the one to break the ice and reach out.

He’d always follow up with a gift or some kind of gesture that would make me forget the previous grievances and fall right back into his arms.

Over the years, our relationship had been a rollercoaster—constantly fluctuating, full of ups and downs.

Sometimes he was distant, other times affectionate, and I had almost no control over it. It was like I was a kite, and he held my emotions in his hands. My happiness, my anger, my sadness—they all seemed to depend on him.

I knew I forgave him too easily, always remembering his kindness and ignoring the hurt he caused. Maybe it was because I loved him too humbly.

But yesterday, when I saw the screenshot of the reservation, I didn’t feel the excitement or joy I used to. In the past, just the fact that he remembered my birthday was enough to make me feel cherished.

After all, every year, I had to remind him several days in advance to get me a gift.

This year, I even forgot my own birthday. I didn’t remind him, and yet, he still remembered on his own.

Yesterday at work, I suddenly realized that today was my birthday.

I texted him back, "Okay, see you at the restaurant tomorrow night."

Then I turned off my phone and got back to work, without the usual sweetness in my heart from his gesture.

After work today, I got a message from Daniel: "See you at the restaurant later."

I arrived early, ahead of our reservation time. The reservation was for 7:00, but I got there at 6:30.

By 8:00, Daniel still hadn’t shown up.

I called, but there was no answer. I sent a message, but got no reply.

At 9:30, the waiter asked if I wanted to start the meal, since the restaurant was closing at 10:30.

I nodded and ate my steak alone, sipping some red wine, until 10:30, when I stood up and walked out of the restaurant.

Standing by the side of the road, waiting for a taxi, I saw Isabella’s Status Update.

She wrote, "You are my sense of security."

The picture was a side profile of Daniel sitting on the sofa.

When I saw that photo, I felt neither anger nor sadness or grievance.

I felt an unusual calm. Instead, there was a quiet satisfaction, as though I already knew the answer.

See, I had known all along that behind every missed appointment, Isabella was always involved.

Strangely, this time, I didn’t feel sad at all.

When I got home, I went straight to bed after washing up.

In the middle of the night, I was woken by the sound of the door opening.

I knew it was Daniel coming back.

Annoyed at being woken up, I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep, not wanting to deal with him.

I heard him stop by the bedside, his footsteps remaining still for a long time.

Even with my eyes closed, I could still feel that deep gaze, as if it was staring at me from the darkness.

Had he lost his mind?

Coming back without showering, not even bothering to go to bed, just standing there staring at me?

It was really annoying.

Was he happy because I didn’t turn on the lights and wait for him in the living room, angry and ready to argue?

Was he actually glad that I didn’t explode this time?

After all, every time I had acted hysterically in the past, he would just stand there coldly, his eyes full of impatience and disgust.

His superior gaze made me feel like a clown, and no matter how desperately I struggled, I could never break free.

There was a time when every argument I had with him about his relationship with Isabella ended with him patiently explaining that they were just friends, that nothing had happened, and that I was just overthinking things. At least back then, he’d give me some kind of response, even though his words never felt sincere.

But eventually, he stopped saying anything at all.

I was the one who would spiral, my emotions erupting like a volcano, only to quietly cool down afterward.

And now, I finally understand, and I’ve let go.

Looking back at myself then, I must have seemed like a madwoman. Every time I broke down, I must’ve looked awful.

No wonder Daniel got frustrated with me.

In that moment, I didn’t want to ask him anything. I just wanted to sleep.

He stared at me for a while, and when I didn’t react, he softly called my name, “Olivia?”

I pretended to be sound asleep, keeping my eyes tightly shut and not moving.

After a while, he finally left.

I heard the sound of running water from the bathroom—he must’ve gone to wash up. The sound was surprisingly soothing, and as it trickled on, I unknowingly drifted off to sleep. I didn’t even notice when he climbed into bed.

The next morning, I woke up early and went straight to the office.

The entire day, I immersed myself in work, and the hours flew by in a blur.

After work, I ate dinner alone before returning home.

As soon as I walked in, I saw Daniel sitting on the couch.

“Why are you home so early?” I asked as I took off my shoes.

“No overtime,” he replied.

“Oh.” I nodded, hung up my bag, and was about to head to the study.

“Olivia,” Daniel called out, “I already bought your birthday gift, and I wanted to give it to you yesterday…”

“Thank you!” I took the beautifully wrapped box from his hands.

Inside was a delicate bracelet.

“It’s lovely. I like it,” I smiled at him. “I’ll wear it tomorrow.”

As I turned to leave, Daniel suddenly grabbed my arm.

“I’m sorry,” he said hesitantly. “I couldn’t keep my promise yesterday. When I was almost at the restaurant, Isabella called. Her ex-boyfriend started stalking her again, and she was really scared. She lives alone, and it’s not safe—”

“I understand,” I interrupted calmly. “She shouldn’t have to face danger alone. You’ve mentioned before that her ex has unstable emotions. It’s fine, let’s not talk about this anymore. I still have some work left. I’m going to the study.”

“Olivia!” He didn’t let go of my arm.

“Hmm?” I turned back to look at him.

“I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Oh, I already ate. You can order takeout,” I said, gently pulling my arm out of his grip and walking toward the study.

Just as I sat down, I heard the door slam shut.

I got up and walked out to find that Daniel was already gone.

He brought the gift and even apologized, but I didn’t take the opportunity to respond gently. He must’ve gotten upset.

From that moment on, Daniel and I were once again in a silent standoff.

In the past, during such silent treatments, I would spiral into anxiety, trying desperately to think of ways to reconcile with him.

But now, after a few days of silence, I actually felt a strange sense of relief.

Daniel was sleeping in the guest room, and I was alone, enjoying the vast expanse of the bed. I slept more soundly than I had in a while.

In the mornings, I no longer woke up early to make breakfast for him. Sleeping an extra half hour had become my little indulgence.

At work, I didn’t constantly think about Daniel, nor did I text him all the time. I even realized that my work efficiency had improved significantly.

Tasks that I used to scramble to finish at the last minute, I was now able to complete ahead of schedule.

After work, I no longer felt the need to rush home to cook.

To make sure Daniel ate healthily, I’d once spent a lot of time learning how to cook, preparing meals every evening.

But he was always busy with work and social events, so it was a miracle if he managed to come home for dinner twice a week.

No longer revolving around him, I finally discovered that I had a lot of free time.

During this period, I binge-watched an entire TV series, finishing it in just three nights.

At the office, I overheard a new hire talking about preparing for a qualification exam related to our work. A wave of shame washed over me.

She had just graduated and was already thinking ahead about self-improvement. Meanwhile, I'd been in this industry for years and still felt lost, drifting aimlessly, with no clear direction. The only person I could blame was myself for being so consumed by daydreams of love.

After graduation, I had one simple dream—marrying Daniel.

Yet here I am, still waiting for that dream to come true.

Back then, my entire life revolved around Daniel. For him, I once fantasized about quitting my job to become a full-time housewife, if he asked me to after marriage. To my younger self, taking care of the family, raising kids, and living life with Daniel was the ultimate happiness.

But looking back now, I realize how much of a failure I was.

In love, I gave so much but received nothing in return. Daniel wouldn’t even offer me a single promise about marriage.

As for my career, I was still stuck, with no progress in sight.

Then, just when I felt like giving up, the new hire reignited a long-lost determination in me. Her hard work and drive reminded me that I couldn’t continue down this path of self-destruction.

I decided to change. I began asking my colleagues for advice, buying study materials, and preparing for the qualification exam. After work, I stopped wasting time. Instead, I buried myself in my study materials, reading until I was too exhausted to continue.

In the past few days, Daniel seemed to still be angry with me, coming home late every night. This, however, gave me the peace I needed to focus on my studies.

One afternoon during my break, I checked my Status Update idly and saw that Daniel had posted something. There were no words, just a photo. On the dining table were several dishes, two sets of chopsticks, and at the edge of the table, a hand was visible. I could just make out the watch I had once given him on his wrist.

I knew Daniel too well—he posted this picture on purpose, wanting me to see it, to let me know he was having dinner with Isabella.

Strangely, I felt no anger or jealousy. I no longer had the impulse to call him and demand an explanation.

I glanced at the picture, then tossed my phone aside and continued scrolling through other updates.

Later that evening, Daniel called.

“I’ll pick you up after work.”

His tone was flat, emotionless.

My first instinct was to refuse.

“No need. I have to work late tonight. I’ll be home later.” I lied, without thinking.

“How late?” he asked calmly.

“Umm, eight o’clock,” I lied again.

“Okay, I’ll wait for you downstairs at eight,” he said, before hanging up.

To cover up my lie, I didn’t leave immediately. Instead, I took out my study materials and stayed in the office, reading until it was time to go. At eight, I packed up, grabbed my bag, and headed downstairs.

When I walked out of the building, I saw the familiar car parked not far away.

I approached it and opened the door. Isabella smiled at me from the passenger seat.

“Olivia, I just had dinner with Daniel. He’s giving me a ride home,” she said, her tone light, even a little smug.

“Mm.” I replied indifferently and walked around to sit in the backseat.

Every time Isabella sat in that car, I refused to sit in the passenger seat. I had argued with Daniel about this more than once, but he always sided with Isabella, saying she got car sick and the front seat was the only place she could sit.

I had tried to explain that the passenger seat was meant for his girlfriend, but he always dismissed me, saying I was overreacting.

I had never won that argument with Isabella. Every time she sat in the front seat, I couldn’t help but feel upset.

But now, I couldn’t bring myself to care about it anymore.