On the anniversary of my mother’s death, my girlfriend told me she had to work overtime.

However, her first love later posted something on social media: [Thanks to Camelia for coming to celebrate my birthday with me!]

My chest tightened and my hands shook as I called her to demand an explanation. She replied calmly, “It’s Grayson’s 25th birthday today. It’s important. I didn’t want to miss it.”

That was it.

I let out a bitter laugh and looked down at the cancer diagnosis report in my hand.

It was alright. I would be dead soon anyway.

At first, when Camelia Frost’s first love, Grayson Pearce, texted me saying he was moving back to the country to settle down, I felt nothing. I knew exactly what it meant when an ex reached out, but I did not care.

After all, since I started dating Camelia, she had been attentive and accommodating in every way. She was a girlfriend anyone would praise.

She accepted my proposal just a month ago. I had never doubted her feelings for me.

However, gradually, something felt off.

After Grayson returned, Camelia started coming home late and leaving early, always claiming that she was busy with work. Sometimes, when I got up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water, I would catch her hurriedly slipping her glowing phone screen under the covers.

She became increasingly inattentive toward me. She even forgot my birthday.

I grew more and more uneasy.

Whenever I confronted her, she would always brush it off, saying I was overthinking. That was until I logged into my long-neglected social media account. Finally, I discovered the reason for her strange behavior these past months.

Grayson was Camelia’s first love. Their romance ended when he went abroad.

Although Camelia did mention him on occasions, I never imagined they could rekindle their old feelings for one another.

Hence, when I saw Grayson’s social media feed flooded with photos of Camelia, my chest tightened instantly.

She was there with him when he bought collectibles. In a photo of a meal, the watch on the table across from him was hers. They even went on trips together, and she appeared in every photo.

He was so openly staking his claim, and she was so endlessly doting on him. They just seemed more suited for each other.

I remembered the first time I met Grayson. It was when he returned after a year of studying abroad, and it happened to be on my one-year anniversary with Camelia.

Camelia and I went to pick him up. She said he was her younger brother, and I took her at her word, greeting him warmly and chatting enthusiastically. I ignored the awkward expression on his face and the silence from Camelia at the time.

Now, when I looked back, countless details flooded my mind, like when Grayson instinctively tried to sit in the front passenger seat or when she reminded him to watch his head while getting in the car. The coffee she bought him was also exactly the flavor he liked.

Later, Grayson added me on social media. That was when I learned he was Camelia’s ex and her childhood sweetheart. After that, we never spoke again.

I continued scrolling through his feed until I reached April 26th.

In the photo, Grayson was laughing freely, wearing a white hoodie that made him look sunny and vibrant. It was a simple photo, but the caption made my pupils shrink in disbelief.

[Camelia said I look good when I smile!]

So, that was it… So, that was why…

My chest tightened painfully.

When she said she was working late on my birthday, it had just been an excuse to be with Grayson.

A dull ache pressed into my upper abdomen. I closed my eyes and forced my tears back.

Then, Grayson posted another update. It was a video of fireworks at Lotus Bay. That was the same place Camelia and I had gone on our two-year anniversary date.

[Camelia insisted her fireworks were brighter. Obviously, mine are brighter!]

Even though it sounded like a complaint, his tone was playful, like a couple teasing each other.

Ever since he sent me that message about his return to the country, he had not sent me anything else.

Yet, every photo and word on his feed seemed like a silent declaration of war.

I hit 'like' on his post and drew in a deep breath. A subtle, hidden ache of loss began to take root deep in my chest.

I dialed Camelia’s number. The line rang twice, then went straight to voicemail. Just as I thought that she would not answer, the call connected, and a male voice came through.

"Hello? Who’s this?"

Grayson’s hoarse voice came through the line. He seemed not to have noticed the caller ID.

My voice was rough as my chest ached faintly.

“It’s Waylon.”

He immediately seemed to understand, then let out a crooked, wicked smile. “Oh, Waylon. Camelia’s right next to me. She didn’t have her phone just now. I’ll hand it to her.”

Soon, Camelia’s gentle voice came through the phone. “Waylon? Why did you suddenly call me?”

There was a trace of panic in her voice, but it was quickly forced down.

“Didn’t you say you were working late? Why are you with Grayson?” My voice sounded tired even to myself.

“I finished work already. Grayson told me he broke up today, so I thought I’d comfort him. That’s why I came to watch fireworks with him.”

Her tone was calm. It was as though she were simply stating something ordinary.

Then, she added, “Don’t worry, Waylon. We broke up years ago. I only see him as a younger brother now.”

I let out a quiet laugh and did not press further.

“Come back for a bit. I have something to talk to you about.”

I glanced at the medical report in my hand. My eyes stung slightly.

Camelia fell silent for a moment. She probably thought I wanted to argue, and her voice cooled slightly. “Waylon, I can’t come back right now. Whatever it is, let’s talk tomorrow.”

Every word I wanted to say lodged itself in my throat.

When I did not respond, she hung up without hesitation.

I froze for a moment. It was the first time Camelia had ever hung up on me.

That night, I sat on the couch in a daze, waiting quietly. Heavy rain hammered against the windows, rapid and relentless. The air was heavy and cold. I replayed my life in my mind.

My parents divorced when I was young, and my mother raised me alone. When I was in middle school, she fell ill and passed away. I was alone again.

For years, I drifted between the homes of relatives, living as someone else’s burden. I thought I would never be loved in this lifetime. Then, I met Camelia in college.

The first time I saw her, she was wearing a white dress. Her smile was light and bright. Even just walking across campus, people would look for excuses to bump into her.

Our first encounter was cliché yet somehow romantic.

We helped the same stray kitten and later worked together on the same competition. One rainy night, I handed her an umbrella. Just like that, we settled into a quiet, ordinary relationship.

I never believed in love. However, from the moment I met Camelia, hope began to stir in me.

I knew she had not liked me that much at first. Still, even if she only offered me the smallest fragment of her love, I chased it without hesitation, praying I could keep pace with her.

As she treated me better and better, I started to believe what others said—that we were a couple deeply in love.

Then, Grayson appeared and shattered everything I had. Without mercy, he tore away the false mask of this love.

It was not until late into the night that the front door finally opened. Our eyes met.

Camelia looked slightly surprised, then frowned. “It’s so late. You’re still awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

I gave her a faint smile. “You’re back.”

She hummed in response, then asked gently, “Are you hungry? I can make you something.”

She set the umbrella down, took off her coat, and headed toward the kitchen. I glanced at the light gray umbrella. It belonged to Grayson. I knew because it was the one I had given Camelia and she had later given it to him.

“Yeah. Just make some mac and cheese.”

The atmosphere at the table was anything but good. We sat across from each other, thinking about completely different things. I really wanted to ask her why she could go watch fireworks with Grayson but could not even spare me a phone call.

However, when I opened my mouth, no words came out.

Did I really need to ask?

She should have known I would be upset.

She should have known it was inappropriate to go out with her ex.

That was why she did not tell me.

The food in front of me was still steaming. Camelia watched me eat from across the table. She seemed to be in a good mood. The corners of her lips lifted into a faint smile from time to time.

We let that night pass in silence, neither of us daring to mention what happened.

The next day, a colleague handed me two movie tickets. I was told that a new movie was released recently and that it was worth watching.

“You and Camelia should go. It’s a sweet romance, perfect for you two!”

The colleague winked at me, then turned back to their work.

I thanked them and hesitated for a moment before deciding to call Camelia. The phone rang for a long time before the call was connected.

“Waylon, what’s the matter?” Camelia’s gentle voice came through.

I glanced at the movie tickets in my hand. The couple in the movie poster was all wrapped up in each other. “There’s a new movie out. Do you want to watch it together sometime?”

“Things are busy at the office right now. I can’t get away,” Camelia refused. Her voice was calm but distant.

I was about to respond when a man’s voice cut through the line.

“Camelia, I…”

Before I could hear more, the call abruptly ended.

I was a little confused. Why was Grayson with Camelia?

The next moment, my breath caught, and a sudden surge of pain made me stop breathing. It was intense…

My cancer symptoms were growing stronger.

After a long while, I finally regained control. Cold sweat ran down my cheeks from my forehead. I redialled her number as my body shook. “Camelia, will you be back early tonight?”

I tried to keep my voice steady, not letting strain show.

There was a faint rustle on the other end, and after a pause, Camelia’s indifferent voice replied, “We’ll talk tonight. I have to get back to work first.”

The busy tone that followed drained the color from my face even more.

The late summer air was heavy and stifling. Dragging my weary body through it left me drenched in sweat.

By the time I returned home, it was already 8:00 pm.

I went to the hospital that afternoon for more tests. The doctor had told me I needed treatment immediately, or I might not have much time left.

I let out a bitter laugh. Whether I lived a day more or a day less, what difference did it make?

I pushed open the apartment door. As expected, no one was home.

This apartment belonged to Camelia. She asked me to move in since we were about to get engaged. Usually, she would have dinner ready by this hour. However, ever since Grayson returned, I had not seen her home before 10:00 pm.

I glanced at my phone and realized it was my mother’s death anniversary tomorrow.

…

Camelia finally came back around 10:30 pm.

She walked in, exhausted, and hugged me. The scent of wood lingered on her. That was not her perfume. It was another man’s cologne.

I froze for a moment, and the words slipped out before I could stop them.

“Who were you with today?” I was referring to the phone call earlier in the day.

The look on Camelia’s face stiffened when she heard that. Then, she answered in a soft voice, “A colleague. Who else would it be?”

Her tone was casual, almost careless, and she touched her nose. She was lying.

My heart let out a quiet scream. Whenever Camelia felt guilty, she had this habit of touching her nose.

After a moment of silence, my eyes stung. “It was Grayson, wasn’t it? He was at your office? Why? Do you think it’s appropriate to be working in the same office as your ex?”

I realized how hollow my own voice sounded, but Camelia seemed completely unaware.

She simply rubbed her forehead with a weary look and spoke to me in a coaxing, almost childlike tone, “Stop sulking. He applied to my company the day he returned. I made him a department head since he’s capable enough.”

I froze in place.

I was at a loss for words for a moment.

Should I ask why she did not tell me, or why she lied about him being a colleague?

Then, I realized, the word 'colleague' was not wrong. He was a department head at her company now.

Hence, I stayed silent.

The plan I had to tell Camelia about my cancer was quietly shelved somewhere deep inside me. I did not know why I chose not to speak.

I lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The pain inside me made my vision blur.

Camelia was asleep beside me. My hospital reports rested on her bedside table.

I pondered and slowly came to understand…. Perhaps it was because I had finally begun to see that Camelia did not love me as much as I had believed.