“Him? Saying 'break up' now is just a bluff. Once the child is born, he’ll come crawling back, begging to help raise it. Guys like him—sons of businessmen—only care about profit. Dignity? He doesn't even know the word.”

Olivia laughed scornfully.

“Have you forgotten how desperate he was to be my boyfriend? That smug, arrogant face of his—ugh, I feel sick just thinking about it.”

My tears rolled down in silence. So that moment—my sincere, trembling confession—had disgusted her for years.

Olivia’s family is the most prestigious artist in Oxford, and Olivia, the youngest calligraphy master, its proudest gem.

Five years ago, she approached my father for investment in the academy with her calligraphy portfolio.

My dad was so impressed, he introduced her to me.

I fell for her at first sight.

I insisted on learning calligraphy from her, using every excuse to get close.

She snapped at me. “Stupid. No talent!”

I grinned and joked, “Then be my girlfriend. That way, we’re a perfect match.”

She looked at Danny, who was bent over writing silently.

Then, all of a sudden, she grabbed my hand, smiled bitterly and said, “Okay.”

I was ecstatic. I hugged her, clueless to the way Danny suddenly stormed out, or how her body went stiff in my arms.

Only now do I realize—she never truly had me in her heart. It was always Danny.

No wonder she never taught me how to write, never let me into her study.

My chest ached. I wanted to turn and leave, but then I remembered—the wedding quilt. My mother’s quilt couldn't be thrown away.

“Alex!” Olivia snapped suddenly, turning her head and curling her lips into a mocking sneer.

“What are you doing, lurking at the door? Regretting it now? After I threw all your junk out?”

I clenched my fists. “Where’s the wedding quilt? Give it back.”

She froze for a moment. Her face darkened. “It’s just a stupid blanket. Why should I care?”

“That quilt was sewn by my mother.” My voice trembled.

“Just give it back. I’ll leave immediately.”

Her brows knit together as she looked at me like I was insane.

“You’re crying? Over that? What’s wrong with you?”

“It matters!” I shouted. The tears I’d been holding back finally fell.

Olivia groaned in frustration, rubbing her temple, clearly trying to come up with a response.

Just then, Danny suddenly chimed in, as if a lightbulb went off in his head.

“Brother-in-law, don’t yell at Olivia,” he said hurriedly. “I had the maid move your things into the guest room.”

As he spoke, his fingers gently caressed Olivia’s belly. His eyes turned red.

“Brother-in-law… if this is because of the child… I–I’ll ask Olivia to abort him. He was a mistake anyway. No one wants him...”

He broke down before he could finish.

“I won’t allow it!” Olivia’s voice shattered the air. She trembled violently and leaned into Danny’s arms, glaring at me with fury.

“You can leave. Leave as far as you want—but don’t you dare lay a hand on my child! You two are all I have left!”

“Alex, if this is why you came here—then get the hell out!”

I laughed coldly and turned without a word, walking to the guest room.

There, the wedding quilt lay crumpled on the floor, stained and covered in cigarette butts.

The embroidered dragons and phoenixes were blackened, filthy.

I pointed at it with trembling fingers. “Danny, explain.”

He shrank back, guilt all over his face.

“I didn’t mean to… I thought it was just garbage.”

He bent down. “Don’t be mad, brother-in-law. I’ll clean it up for you.”

But just as he reached out, Olivia lunged over and shoved me hard.

“Don’t touch it! Don’t get your hands dirty!” she screamed.

My head slammed into the bed frame.

White-hot pain exploded through my skull and warm liquid trickled down the side of my face.

I didn’t make a sound. I simply looked up at Olivia and smiled, wondering…

Did she even have a heart?

Olivia clutched Danny’s arm, her eyes cold, sharp, filled with a disgust so raw it pierced right through me.

“How much is it? I’ll pay!” she snapped.

“I’m begging you—stop tormenting me and my brother over such petty things. What, does that make you feel powerful? Are you proud of yourself?”

It was as if someone had driven a stake through my chest.

She had always treated me with indifference… but never with this kind of contempt.

Now, it was clear—she hated me.

Suddenly, everything felt meaningless.

Why was I still standing here, still hoping for anything from her?

I gave in.

I didn’t want the dirt.

I didn’t want the past.

And I sure as hell didn’t want her.

Forcing myself upright, I said quietly, “Olivia, I don’t lack money.”

Just as I turned to leave, she grabbed my arm.

Her expression shifted, softening with a strange helplessness.

“You’re just upset today,” she said.

“Go back to your family for a few days. I’ll come pick you up in three.”

I yanked my arm free and left without looking back.

This so-called home we built over the years… I was just a guest passing through.

***

Alex Family Residence…

The wedding drama—I had already explained it all to my parents. They weren’t surprised.

Seeing me come through the door, my mother let out a long sigh of relief.

“Son,” she said, clasping my hands, “thank God. If all this had come out after the wedding… what would you have done?”

She shook her head. “That Olivia’s family… always looking down on us for being in business, calling us vulgar. But look at them—scholars raising such shameless people!”

My father let out a tired breath.

“Let it go,” he said. “Our son’s hurting enough as it is.”

Then he added, “I’ve already told my assistant to pull all investments from the academy. From today onward, our family has nothing more to do with their family.”

I hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to bring up Emily—until my mom spoke again.

“Oh, by the way—Emily dropped by today. She even brought her dowry.”

She took out a small velvet box from the coffee table drawer.

“That girl doesn’t waste time.”

Inside the box was a pair of ancestral jadeite pendants, smooth and flawless.

Only then did it truly hit me—Emily was serious about the wedding in three days.

That night, my phone buzzed. A message from Danny.

[Brother-in-law, come back.]

[I’m moving out. I’ll convince Olivia to abort the baby.]

[You’ve been with her for five years. I can’t be the reason that falls apart. I’d never forgive myself.]

I stared at the screen and scoffed. If he wanted to put on a show, let him do it for his sister.

Why drag me into it?

I typed two words: [As you wish.] Then I blocked him.

But even after all that, I couldn’t shake the dull ache in my chest.

I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the silent city lights, feeling hollow.

Just then, my phone buzzed again—a video call.

Emily.

Her face filled the screen, radiant and full of mischief.

“Alex” she said, her eyes sparkling, “Give me a heart.”

I blinked. “What? Why are you—what heart?”

She pouted. “I don’t care! I want one now!”

I chuckled despite myself and raised my fingers, forming a heart. Goosebumps prickled up my arms—this was so corny.

She gasped dramatically, clasped her hands over her heart and shut her eyes like she’d been struck by Cupid himself.

Then, peeking one eye open, she gave me a playful wink.

My heart skipped a beat.

“Now,” she whispered, “look out the window. Your return gift.”

The call ended.

And then—The sky outside suddenly lit up.

Hundreds of drones rose into the air, forming glowing hearts… then slowly shifting into a line of shimmering words:

[Alex, Happy Birthday.]

Tears blurred my vision.

The absurdity of today had made me forget my own birthday.

But she remembered.

It was flashy, a little cheesy—but her sincerity? I felt it. I cherished it.

And then I thought of Olivia.

Every year, she scribbled a plain “Happy Birthday” in a notebook. No name. No warmth. Nothing.

Emily, in her lighthearted way, had shown me more love in one night than Olivia ever had in five years.

“My calligraphy has collector’s value,” she used to say every year.

“No one would collect it if your name was on it.”

This year, she didn’t even bother with the usual excuse.

Just said flatly, “Too busy with wedding preparations to write anything.”

Wedding preparations?

I was the one who visited more than twenty boutiques to find her ideal wedding dress.

I was the one who compared over thirty venue quotes to book the perfect hotel.

I was the one who stayed up night after night, handwriting over three hundred invitations until my fingers cramped.

And what did she do?

She showed up once—spent less than five minutes trying on the main dress. The entire time, she stared at her watch, visibly impatient, as if every second spent with me was a chore.

It should have been obvious all along.

She never loved me. The signs were always there.

My chest tightened suddenly. I tilted my head back, blinking rapidly.

Not today. Not on my birthday. I’ve already shed too many tears.

Let me keep at least one last shred of dignity.

Sometime deep in the night, my phone buzzed. Half-asleep, I answered without thinking.

Olivia’s voice tore through the line like a whip.

“Alex! Get to the hospital—NOW! My brother’s in trouble!”

I jolted fully awake.

Could he have… actually meant what he wrote in that message?

Panic surged. I didn't even change out of my pajamas—just slipped on my slippers and ran out the door.

When I arrived at the hospital, breathless and disheveled, the scene that greeted me made me freeze.

Danny sat comfortably in bed, propped up by pillows, looking completely fine.

Olivia was peeling an apple for him, her movements slow and tender.

They looked… peaceful. Harmonious. Like a portrait of calm.

While I—Hair a mess, slippers half-falling off, shirt inside out—looked like a complete fool.

The moment Olivia saw me, her face twisted with fury

She rushed forward, grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to her brother’s bedside.

“Kneel for my brother!”

“What—” I began, stunned. But before I could react, she suddenly kicked the back of my knee.

Pain shot through my leg as I dropped to the ground, my kneecap slamming against the cold tile

I gasped, momentarily paralyzed by the searing ache

“Olivia! Are you insane?!”

Her eyes burned with venom

“My brother slit his wrists! He almost died!” she screamed

“Don’t call me crazy—I should kill you right now!”

Danny’s voice cracked as he played the victim perfectly.

“Sister… I sent him a message to apologize. But he blocked me. He must hate me. He doesn’t want to see me. So what’s the point of living…”

I didn’t even want to look at him.

But I lifted my head to assess the damage. A faint, half-centimeter scratch lined his wrist. Cleaned, disinfected, already scabbed over.

That was supposed to be a suicide attempt?

My heart twisted—not with guilt, but something closer to disbelief.

I forced out a bitter smile.

“Olivia, if I came back tomorrow… would the wound already be gone?”

Her temper exploded.

“Alex! How can you be so cruel? Do you even understand what could have happened if I hadn’t found him in time? He could have bled to death!”

That—was love.

A tiny scratch made her unravel with worry.

Meanwhile, when I bled from my forehead, she didn’t even blink.

She loved Danny. Desperately. Blindingly.

And me? I was just the supporting role in her drama.

The realization hit hard. I stayed silent, lips pressed into a line.

That silence sent her over the edge.

She picked up the fruit knife and hurled it at my feet.

“If you think this is nothing, then cut yourself the same way!”

“Feel it. That’s what you owe my brother!”

I stared at her, stunned.

This—this was the woman I loved for five years?

And now, she looked at me as if I were scum beneath her shoe.

I felt nothing. Not anger. Not pain. Just… emptiness.

Just a knife, right? Fine. I’ll return what she wants.

Lowering my gaze to hide the sting in my eyes, I picked up the knife and, without hesitation, made a shallow slice across my wrist.

Danny let out a high-pitched scream.

I stood up slowly, blood dripping and held my arm in front of Olivia’s face.

“Is that enough?”

She blinked, lashes trembling. Her expression was not fear or guilt—but disgust.

And without another glance, she turned away, to comfort Danny.

Soft words. Gentle touch. As if I weren’t even there.

And then she muttered under her breath, almost scolding:

“Why did you cut so deep? Stupid.”

I laughed silently and staggered toward the door.

Then I heard her voice behind me, flat and commanding.

"Alex, reflect well while you're with your family. I’ll come pick you up in three days."

I laughed harder—so hard that tears streamed down my face.

Olivia... let’s never see each other again.