I looked at her.

Her eyes were frayed with red. I could tell she was anxious.

I suddenly had an impression that she looked like a stranger.

"Alright. One week." With that, I grabbed my coat and walked out.

"Luke!" She called out after me, but I didn’t turn around.

It was raining outside. I got into the car, then I looked at my reflection using the rearview mirror. My eyes were red and swollen, but there was a sharp look of clarity in my eyes.

In that instant, I suddenly realized how meaningless it all was: the engagement, the relationship, all of it. The woman I had loved for the last seven years of my life had made a joke out of me.

It was all too meaningless.

Three days later, it was my birthday.

My family threw me a birthday party. They invited our business partners, as well as the mutual friends I shared with Clementine.

Over the years, Clementine and I made it a tradition to share the first dance.

"Luke, where’s Clementine?" Mom asked softly. Her eyes were glazed with worry.

"She’s on her way." I smiled and took a sip of my champagne.

As soon as I said so, Clementine rushed in. She was dressed elegantly and looked beautiful as ever, but there was an unmistakable look of weariness threaded underneath her brows.

She approached me hastily to take my hand. "Sorry, something came up at work."

"It's fine." I had to fight back the instinctive urge to pull away while I forced myself to smile.

Soon, our friends gathered around us and began to ask with suggestive looks.

"Hey, Luke, when are you two going to get married?"

I did not answer.

Clementine's smile was somewhat stiff as well. "Very soon. We’re just waiting for Luke to say yes."

When I spoke, my tone sounded far more indifferent than I expected. "We’ll see how things go."

When the party was about to begin, they began to cheer.

"Clementine, it's time for the first dance! Go on, get your fiance over here!"

She smiled obligingly, but her head was fixed to her phone the entire time.

I stood next to her and glanced at the screen. That was when I noticed the name on the display.

Stanley Brickley.

Messages were flooding in. Her finger hovered over the screen, but she did not open them.

Her mind wandered somewhere else from then on.

When the music for the first dance began to play, she hardly noticed when I offered my hand for a dance. When she looked at her screen again, her expression changed.

"Luke, something urgent came up. I have to go." Her voice was anxious. "Stanley has been a little erratic, and I’m getting worried about him being at home by himself. I have to check up on him.

"Please tell everyone I have to go. I’ll be back once I’m done."

My response was relatively calm. "Clementine. It’s my birthday today. The first dance is about to begin."

She fell silent for several seconds. "I’m sorry. I just don’t want something to happen to him. Wait for me. I'll be back before you know it."

With that, she turned and ran out.

I stood and watched as she anxiously paced out of the venue.

It seemed as if the air was sucked out of the room. I could feel countless pairs of eyes piercing through me from all directions like sharp needles.

Some of them were out of sympathy, others out of mockery. Some even took pleasure in my suffering.

I could feel Mom’s worried gaze and could still hear people murmuring between themselves.

I walked towards the dance floor.

The music was still playing, and everyone was waiting.

I took the microphone and announced with a smile, "Clementine had something urgent come up, so I’m afraid the opening dance will have to be canceled. Help yourselves, everyone."

This started off a round of commotion downstage. I put the microphone down before walking out of the hall.

The corridor was quiet. I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.

Then, my phone vibrated. It was Clementine texting me.

"Luke, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

All I sent was a perfunctory reply, "Ok."

"Please don’t be upset. I already made arrangements for him to leave tomorrow. I promise it will be quick this time."

I suddenly chuckled when I looked at the text.

It had been three days since she told me she would settle matters in a week. And yet, one phone call was all it took for her to abandon me.

I was not going to believe her anymore. She had been telling me to wait for far too long.

When I got home after the party, it was almost midnight.

Mom was waiting for me in the living room. Judging by the look on her face, she was not impressed at all.

"What’s going on with Clementine? How could she leave you hanging with so many people around?"

I sat down and poured myself a glass of water. "Mom, I would like to look for another partner."

Mom froze.

I looked calmly into her eyes.

"Didn’t Miss Keegan from Hafort mention an engagement with me in the past? I’m interested."

Mom stared at me for what seemed like ages before releasing an exhausted sigh, "Have you thought about it thoroughly?"

"Yes."

My phone vibrated again. It was Clementine who had sent me a stream of messages, but I did not open them.

Her name, which was once capable of stirring all kinds of emotions within me, was nothing but an insignificant symbol displayed on the screen now.

It had been seven years. It was time to move on.

By the fifth day, I had yet to see any tangible outcome of Clementine "settling matters". Instead, all I received was a visit from Stanley himself.

He had somehow found out where I live and had shown up at my front door with his eyes visibly red and swollen from crying.

"Mr. Everett, I beg you…" He got on his knees.

"Mr. Everett, the baby is innocent. The doctor said that if Clementine gets an abortion, it will be very difficult for her to get pregnant again in the future…"

He looked up at me with tears streaming down his face.

"I don’t need status or anything else, all I want is for Clementine to give birth to our baby and..."

I fixed a look at him. He was a twenty-two-year-old fresh graduate. Just from looking at his eyes, I could tell he was a young grasshopper who had yet to be exposed to the harsh realities of the world.

"Do me a favor and get up first."

Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist and cried out sharply, "I won’t get up until you say yes!

"Clementine told me you love her, don’t you? Even if the baby isn’t yours, how could you bear to be so cruel to her?"

My wrist was starting to hurt from his nails digging into my flesh.

Just as I was about to speak, a figure rushed in through the doorway.

It was Clementine. She immediately grabbed Stanley and pulled him behind her to shield him before turning to me with a sheepish look in her eyes.

"Luke, you can take it up to me if you have any problems. Don’t pick on him."

Time seemed to stand still.

I slowly withdrew my hand and observed the red streaks left on my skin. I was already on the verge of breaking down. What she did was the nail in the coffin that sent everything crashing down.

Meanwhile, she stood protectively in front of Stanley like a valiant knight. All the while, Stanley cowered behind her like a frightened puppy. They looked like a perfect match.

I felt a sharp throb somewhere deep in my heart.

My voice was faint when I spoke, "Clementine, your actions speak louder than words. It seems to me that deep down, you think the baby you have with him is worth more protection than I am."

"No!" She cried out while lunging forward to take my hand, only for me to pull away.

"Luke, I'm pregnant, and my emotions are running wild because of hormones. I only came because I was worried something would happen to him… I don’t want him to get himself hurt or…"

When she heard Stanley sobbing behind her, she instinctively turned to look at him. The concern she had in her eyes when she looked at him stamped out the last bit of affection I had for her.

With that, I prepared to dismiss them. I did not want to risk losing control if this got drawn out any longer.

Clementine grabbed my arm.

"Luke! We need to sit down and talk it out properly. I’ll call your parents and mine. We can settle this in person…"

I shrugged off her hand. "There’s nothing to talk about. I already said everything I needed to say that night. Now take him and leave!"

I proceeded to head upstairs.

"Luke!"

I did not bother to turn back. All I wanted was to get out of this suffocating place.

Soon, I heard the door shut behind me. They were gone.

I stood on the stairs for a while. I felt a stinging sensation in my eye, but no tears would come out. That was how I found out that when someone was truly heartbroken, they lose the ability to cry entirely.

Soon, my phone rang again. It was Dad calling.

"Luke, the Keegans have agreed to the engagement. They want you to visit as soon as you can."

I looked out the window. It was getting dark outside.

"Sure."

Before I departed for Hafort, I had to renew my passport.

The next afternoon, I drove to the immigration hall. As I was driving across the highway, I was thinking about the weather in Hafort.

Based on what the Keegans told us, they had a warm climate all year round, even during the winter. That sounded good. I hated the winters in Ambrough. It was too long and too cold.

Suddenly, I heard a loud crash.

Bang!

Whatever it was had detonated from the rear and side of the car simultaneously. I would have been launched forward if not for the seatbelt jerking me back with such force that I nearly passed out.

The airbags deployed instantly like a bomb going off. The smell of gunpowder came rushing into my nose.

The car was overturned, leaving me hanging upside down with blood streaming down my forehead and dripping onto the roof of the car.

Meanwhile, someone was punching at the car window.

“Sir! Sir, are you alright?”

I tried to speak, but no voice came out. My left arm was throbbing with pain. I must have broken a bone.

When the rescuers pulled me out, I realized I had been hit by a car. The other car driver's door was pried open, and soon, a young man was helped out.

It was Stanley. He did not seem to have sustained serious injuries.

While I was lifted onto the stretcher, my left arm was bent at an unnatural angle. I could hear the paramedics shouting urgently.

“It seems like a bone fracture. There could be internal bleeding. Hurry up!”

When I was being rushed down the hospital corridor, I was blinded by the lights overhead. I was wheeled into the emergency room.

The doctor told me I might have sustained a concussion and that my left arm was fractured. I was informed they would have to check for internal bleeding as well.

After the examination was complete, I was wheeled out to the corridor and told to wait for the results.

That was when I heard a round of hurried footsteps.

Clementine rushed into the emergency room. Her hair was disheveled, and her face was covered in sweat.

She grabbed the first nurse she saw and asked frantically, “Where’s Stanley Brickley? Stanley Brickley! The one who was rushed here after an accident! He…”

The nurse gestured at an adjacent ward.

“You must be Mrs. Knaupper. Your husband, Mr. Brickley, is in ward three. He only sustained minor injuries and is recovering from shock. Don’t worry…”

“Alright, good. Good…” She murmured repeatedly to herself before suddenly remembering something and clutching at the nurse again.

“There’s someone else I’m looking for! What about Luke? How is he?”

The nurse flipped through the records.

“Mr. Everett has sustained a fractured left arm, a concussion, and they’re still checking for internal bleeding. He needs to be warded for further observation.”

A troubled look flashed past Clementine’s face only for such a short instant that it was nearly imperceptible.

Then, she turned and rushed towards ward three.

I lay on the stretcher and watched as she rushed into the ward and took the traumatized Stanley into her arms.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, I’m here…”

I could hear her voice spilling into the corridor.

I closed my eyes. The pain from my broken arm was excruciating.

Soon, the doctor wheeled me into my ward. I lay for a while before reaching for my phone with my uninjured hand.

I took a look at the last message I had received from Clementine sometime last night. It read: “Luke, give me one more chance. I swear I’ll make things right this time.”

I scrolled up.

There were seven years of chat history, adding up to tens of thousands of messages. There was a range of texts spanning from good morning texts, good night texts, what are you eating, and I miss yous.

I stared at them for what felt like ages until a doctor showed up to issue some instructions.

I listened to him silently before demanding, “I’d like to be discharged.”

Though my voice was hoarse, it was also very determined.

The doctor could not talk me out of it. Left without a choice, he prescribed the appropriate medication before urging me to return for a follow-up appointment.

I nodded.

After leaving the hospital, I went home to pack my belongings.

I packed up everything Clementine had given me over the years and sent them back to her along with a signed agreement annulling our engagement.

After saying goodbye to my parents, I took a taxi to the airport.

The airport terminal was relatively vacant at this hour. After checking in for my flight, I went through customs before settling down in the waiting area.

My left arm was bandaged in a cast slung across my chest, which ended up attracting some stares.

I ignored them and reached for my phone in the bag.

Upon turning it on, I found countless missed calls and hundreds of messages from Clementine. The last one was from ten minutes ago.

“Luke, where are you? They told me you left! Answer the phone! We need to talk!"

I tapped on the conversation box and hovered my finger over the screen for a long time before settling on a short and curt reply, “Forget about it.”

I sent the text, blocked her, and turned off my phone all in one go.

As the plane took off, the sun was just about to rise. Blinding streaks of sunlight filtered through the cotton-like clouds.

I shut my eyes.

'From now on, we will be worlds apart. Good luck, Clementine.'