After hanging up the call, she returned to the apartment she shared with Dean, moving like a walking corpse. There, she began packing mechanically. Everything Dean had given her over the past year, from necklaces to bracelets, plush toys, and lipsticks, was picked up one by one and tossed straight into the trash. Those things she once treasured as proof of love now felt like nothing more than cruel jokes.

Just as she threw in the last necklace, the door unlocked. Dean—no, Jake—walked in.

He imitated Dean’s voice perfectly, though his tone was gentler. “Morgan, what are you putting in the bin?”

Morgan looked up. Her eyes were red as she stared at the face almost identical to Dean’s, yet younger and more brazen. It felt as though her heart was being torn open all over again, the pain so sharp she could barely breathe.

“Don’t these look familiar to you?” Her voice was hoarse, laced with mockery.

The smile on Jake’s face stiffened for a brief moment before he smoothly changed the subject.

“Why are your eyes so red? Is it because of what happened on the forum today? Don’t be sad. I’ve handled it. Those posts are gone. No one will dare gossip about you again. As for grad school, losing the spot isn’t the end of the world. You’re only in your third year. You can try again next year. Or just quit school altogether and come work at my company. I’ll take care of you.”

Pain stabbed deep into Morgan’s chest. Her nails dug hard into her palm. Those two brothers were such fine actors.

Before she could speak, Jake naturally pulled her into his arms, his chin resting against the top of her head.

“Alright, don’t cry. It hurts me to see you like this.”

His familiar scent surrounded her. Then came soft, lingering kisses along her neck, and his hands began to wander. In the past, she would have responded shyly. Today, however, her entire body felt cold, and nausea churned violently in her stomach. She shoved him away with all her strength.

Jake stumbled back, clearly caught off guard. Surprise flashed across his eyes before he quickly suppressed it, his voice remaining gentle.

“What’s wrong? Are you not in the mood today?”

“I don’t feel well.” Morgan turned her head away, her voice rough.

He studied her for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled. “Alright. I’ll go take a shower.”

Without forcing the issue, he turned toward the bathroom. Meanwhile, Morgan continued packing numbly, erasing every trace of them from the apartment. When she was done, she collapsed onto the bed, her back facing the bathroom.

Not long after, Jake came out, still damp with steam, and lay down beside her. He stayed quiet for a while. Then, as if he could not hold back, he moved closer and hugged her from behind. Warm kisses landed on the back of her ear and along her neck. Morgan endured it stiffly.

Then, in her hazy, half-conscious state, she heard him murmur a name in desire, “Hazel…”

That name stabbed Morgan in the chest. She jolted awake, blood rushing cold through her veins.

So it was not just Dean. Even Jake, too, was thinking of Hazel every time he slept with her?

She shoved him away again, teeth clenched, her voice trembling uncontrollably. “I told you… I don’t feel well today!”

Jake froze at her intense reaction. Seeing how unstable she looked, he paused and then sighed as if conceding.

“Okay, okay. I won’t touch you. I’ll just hold you while we sleep, alright?”

This time, he kept his word, only wrapping an arm around her from behind. Morgan lay stiffly in his embrace, silent tears soaking into the pillow. She endured the overwhelming pain and disgust until, near dawn, exhaustion finally dragged her into a shallow sleep.

When she woke up the next morning, the space beside her was empty. She used to find it strange that Dean never went to school with her, but now she understood. It was because the one sleeping beside her at night was Jake, while the real Dean had never bothered to be intimate with her.

She got out of bed numbly, washed up, and prepared to go to campus to handle her withdrawal paperwork. She had barely arrived at school and hadn’t even reached the academic office when a classmate rushed over and stopped her.

“Morgan! You’re finally here! Your tutor wants you in his office immediately. He said it’s urgent!”

Her heart sank for no clear reason, a sense of dread creeping in. Nevertheless, she walked to her tutor’s office and knocked.

“Come in.”

She pushed the door open. As expected, Hazel was already inside. When Hazel saw her, a flash of smug triumph and provocation crossed her eyes before she quickly returned to her usual fragile, pitiful expression.

The tutor’s face was livid. The moment he saw Morgan, he slammed two printed assignments onto the desk.

“Morgan! Hazel! Explain this to me!” he snapped. “Why are your assignments nearly identical? Even the typos are the same! Academic misconduct is a serious offense! Integrity comes before talent! Whoever plagiarized, confess now, and the school may show leniency!”

Hazel immediately spoke up, her voice aggrieved yet resolute. “Professor, my assignment was absolutely written by me. I don’t know why it’s so similar to Morgan’s, but I definitely did not plagiarize.”

Morgan looked at the two assignments, her heart sinking into despair. Still, she forced herself to speak calmly, “Professor, my assignment was also completed independently. I did not plagiarize.”

The tutor rubbed his temples in frustration. “Both of you claim you wrote it yourselves, so where’s the proof?”

Hazel answered at once. “Professor, I have a witness.”

The office door opened again. Dean stepped inside, his long legs carrying him forward.

He did not even spare Morgan a glance.

Turning directly to the tutor, Dean said calmly, “I was there when Hazel stayed up late to finish her assignment. There’s no way she plagiarized. As for why there’s overlap…”

He paused before finally looking at Morgan. “That’s something you should ask someone else.”

The tutor knew about Dean and Morgan’s relationship. Now, seeing that Dean not only refused to protect his girlfriend but was openly testifying for Hazel instead, and factoring in the Lyons’ background, it instantly tipped the scales for him.

His expression darkened with fury as he pointed straight at Morgan. “Morgan! What else do you have to say for yourself? The evidence is clear! I’m extremely disappointed in you!”

Morgan stared at Dean in disbelief. If this had happened before, she might not have understood why he would treat her like this. However, now that she knew the truth, she understood it all perfectly well.

For Hazel, he could fake a relationship with her. For Hazel, he could post her private photos publicly. Hence, it was no surprise that he was now pinning the offense of plagiarism onto her to protect Hazel. The pain tore through her chest, but she also knew that any explanation would be meaningless after Dean’s words.

The tutor dismissed Dean and Hazel first. Then, he harshly reprimanded Morgan again, declared her assignment void, and recorded the incident in her academic file.

Morgan left the office in a daze. The moment she stepped into the hallway, she saw Dean leaning against the wall alone, clearly waiting for her. She stopped in her tracks, looking at the man she had loved for two years, the man who had deceived her, used her, and hurt her from beginning to end.

Her voice came out hoarse and trembling. “Dean… don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

He looked up, his eyes calm and indifferent as ever. “Hazel accidentally deleted her assignment yesterday. It was close to the submission deadline, so she asked to use yours as a reference.”

A reference? Was copying it word for word, down to the same typo, considered a reference?

Morgan found it hard to breathe.

Dean continued speaking in that cold, pleasant voice that now sounded unbearably cruel. “You’ve lost your spot in grad school. Hazel is still competing for hers. This assignment is important to her. As for you…” He paused briefly. “Since you’re in this situation anyway, it doesn’t really matter anymore.”

Everything he said revolved around Hazel. He never once considered how she felt or how much this would hurt Morgan.

The overwhelming grief and rage finally drowned Morgan. She could not hold it in anymore. She broke down, screaming and crying hysterically, pouring out every ounce of grievance, pain, and despair she had been suppressing.

It was probably the first time Dean had ever seen the gentle, obedient Morgan in such a state. His brows knitted slightly in confusion. Whenever they disagreed in the past, all it took was a faint frown from him, and she would immediately give in, no matter how unreasonable the request was, even if it meant handing her assignment over to Hazel.

So what was going on this time?

“It’s just an assignment,” he said, frowning as he grabbed her wrist. “Why make such a scene? Enough. Haven’t you always wanted to have a meal with me? I have time today. I’ll take you.”

Morgan forcefully shook his hand off. The motion carried all the despair and anger she had bottled up for far too long.

“I’m not going!” Her voice shook with emotion, her eyes red as she glared at the man she once loved with her whole heart. “Dean, I’m not that pathetic! If you don’t want to eat with me that badly, then don’t ever eat with me again!”

With that, she turned around and ran from the suffocating place.

Dean stood where he was, watching Morgan leave. It was the first time she had resisted him so fiercely—one could even call it defiance. A trace of confusion and displeasure appeared on his face.

The Morgan he knew had always looked at him with careful admiration and unquestioning obedience. She never disobeyed him. If he frowned even slightly, she would immediately reflect on herself and then soften her voice to appease him. Now, the light in her eyes seemed to have gone out, replaced by something he could not understand—cold despair and distance.

He wondered. Was she just throwing a tantrum over the assignment? If she were, how immature of her.

He did not chase after her. To him, this really was nothing more than a trivial matter. Comforting Hazel required effort, but comforting Morgan? There was no need. She would calm down on her own.

With a detached expression, Dean looked away and walked off in the opposite direction.

Morgan went to the cafeteria alone. She barely tasted the food as she forced a few bites down and headed straight to the admin office to process her withdrawal.

When she gave her reason as “studying abroad,” the administrative staff showed brief regret over her previously excellent grades. Still, with the photo scandal circulating across campus and the plagiarism accusation that had just erupted, their response remained purely procedural. There was no real attempt to persuade her to stay.

“Withdrawal approval will take a few days to process,” the administrative staff said. “During that time, you’re expected to attend classes as usual.”

“Thank you,” Morgan replied softly, her expression blank.

She moved through the rest of the day like a walking corpse. When the final bell rang, she hugged her books to her chest and followed the crowd out. As she passed the small campus garden, she noticed a group of students running in one direction, their voices buzzing with excitement.

“Quick, quick! There’s a fight up ahead!”

“Oh my God, it’s Dean! I’ve never seen the campus heartthrob so angry!”

“He’s fighting for Hazel! A classic case of rage for love!”

Morgan stopped in her tracks. Her heart felt like it had been pricked by a fine needle, not enough to bleed but enough to hurt. Without fully understanding why, she followed them ahead. Sure enough, a small crowd had formed. At the center, Dean was locked in a vicious fight with another male student.

Dean was usually cold, restrained, and always composed. Now, as if someone had crossed his boundaries, his movements were brutal and unrelenting, every punch landing hard. That stunning, untouchable face was twisted with a fury few had ever seen.

Fragments of conversation drifted into her ears.

“I heard that guy confessed to Hazel, got rejected, and then tried to get handsy…”

“Dean is normally so calm. Who knew he’d actually throw punches?”

“But isn’t Morgan his girlfriend? Why is he fighting so hard for Hazel?”

“Tsk, you don’t get it? With those photos of Morgan going around, how could Dean ignore them? He probably got sick of her ages ago…”

Morgan listened quietly. She thought her heart had turned numb, but those words still stirred something painful within her.

Just then, Hazel squeezed through the crowd, looking like a startled fawn. Crying, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Dean from behind.

“Dean, stop fighting! I’m scared… Please, stop…”

Dean froze. He released the battered student and turned around. The violent air around him vanished almost instantly, replaced by a gentleness so awkward and careful that Morgan had never seen it before.

He wiped Hazel’s tears with deliberate tenderness, his voice low and soft. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve stopped. Did I scare you?”

Like poison, that level of tenderness and devotion Dean showed shattered the very last illusion Morgan had been clinging to. He had never looked at her like that or spoken to her in that tone. Even during the most intimate moments between them, he had been so repulsed that he let his younger brother take his place.

How blind had she been to believe he ever liked her?

At that moment, Dean’s gaze swept over the crowd and met Morgan’s. He froze again, clearly not expecting to see her there. A flicker of complicated emotion surfaced in his eyes so fast that even he did not seem aware of it.

His lips parted. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but Morgan looked away first. As if she had merely seen an irrelevant stranger, she turned around and left, her face expressionless.

Dean stared at her, his brows knitting unconsciously.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Hazel asked softly, leaning against him.

“Nothing,” he replied, withdrawing his gaze. His tone returned to its usual gentleness, yet the unease in his chest refused to fade.

He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Jake, briefly explaining the argument with Morgan and the fight earlier, telling him to comfort her later that evening.

Jake replied quickly. [Why bother comforting her? Just break up with her.]

Dean stared at the message, his fingers pausing mid-air.

Right. Why should he bother? However, he could not quite explain it to himself. After a moment of silence, he typed a justification that sounded reasonable enough:

“Hazel hasn’t been offered a place in grad school yet. The act has to be convincing. Morgan’s emotionally unstable. If she makes a scene and it affects Hazel, it’ll be troublesome.”

Jake responded immediately. [Got it. I’ll go back tonight and handle it.]

That night, Morgan returned to the apartment, exhausted both mentally and physically. She lay down early, closing her eyes almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Not long after, she heard movement at the door. Jake was back.

“Morg, why are you asleep so early today?” He leaned close, his voice carrying its usual careless intimacy.

Morgan faced away from him, her voice flat. “Nothing. I’m tired.”

He caught the coldness in her tone and wrapped his arms around her from behind, slipping easily into his familiar role. He repeated the same polished explanations about the assignment and the fight, using the same hypocritical logic as always.

She listened numbly as she thought about how flawless the brothers' act was, with one hurting her and the other comforting her. She closed her eyes, unwilling to say another word.

Seeing her remain silent, Jake leaned in out of habit, brushing kisses along her neck, his hands beginning to wander.