I stared at her, calm and steady.
“Why not buy two?” I asked.
“I’ll have one sent straight to Derek.”
The air froze.
Cassandra’s fingers on my chest stiffened. The coquettish charm she had been weaving a moment ago drained from her face. She snatched her hand back and shifted half an inch away.
“Lucas, what are you talking about?!” Her voice was sharp, defensive.
“Why bring up Derek out of nowhere? You’re being completely unreasonable!”
Her brows knitted; her lips pressed into a tight, angry line.
“I just saw a bed I liked and wanted to change ours. Are you really that petty? Derek’s working so hard on his own—what’s wrong with me helping him as a friend?”
She gave a small, incredulous laugh.
“You’re a grown man, yet you make a scene over every little thing.”
The words landed exactly as she meant them to. She was turning it on me again.
Petty. Nitpicky. Overreacting.
Every time she used that same tone—disappointment, accusation, a touch of disdain—until I began to doubt myself. Maybe I was too narrow-minded. Maybe I was overreacting.
Derek had it hard. Derek just graduated. Derek’s family wasn’t well off.
So of course, it was acceptable for him to strip our wedding room bare.
Of course, my wife could hand out my belongings as if they were nothing.
In the past, seeing her like this, I’d fold. Tell myself it wasn’t worth arguing over things. Swallow my frustration and move on.
But not this time.
Under the light, her cheeks were flushed with excitement; in her beautiful eyes was a naked protectiveness that had nothing to do with me. I felt it then—a heaviness deeper than anger, sharper than disappointment. A hollowness that drained even the desire to argue.
The longer I stayed silent, the more her temper rose. She leapt to her feet, voice rising:
“Lucas, do you even think I’ll marry you?
If you keep acting like this, we’re done!”
It was her usual weapon. Before, the mere hint of a breakup had been enough to make me apologize, compromise, cave.
But this time, I simply looked up at her and said, calm as a still pond,
“Alright. Then let’s break up.”
She blinked, stunned, as if she’d misheard. The fury on her face faltered. Then her cheeks flushed red, a storm of shame, disbelief, and rage.
“Fine! You’re amazing, Lucas! Don’t regret it!”
She grabbed her clothes and makeup, dressing furiously. Ten minutes later she stormed out with her bag, the door slamming so hard the walls shuddered.
I took out my phone and dialed my father.
“Dad,” I said quietly, “I’m not getting married. Please ask the Lane family if the engagement Grandpa arranged is still valid.”
There was a pause—no questions, no advice. Finally, my father sighed.
“Son, I told you. You must find a wife of equal status.”
I gave a bitter smile.
A little after one in the morning, my phone lit up. A message from Cassandra’s best friend:
Lucas, come quickly.
Cassandra’s drunk—she keeps calling your name.
She even said she’s going to slit her wrists!
Attached was a video.
In the dim glow of poolside lights, Cassandra sat slumped, hair disheveled, a ghost of the woman I once thought I loved.
The pool water was stained mostly red.
I stared at the screen for ten long seconds, then grabbed my car keys and left.
When I arrived at the bathhouse’s private room, shrill laughter greeted me.
Cassandra lounged in a chair, wrapped in a towel, half a glass of fruit wine dangling from her hand, a smug smile curving her lips.
Her friends erupted into laughter the moment I opened the door.
“Look who it is—the great lover Lucas! So quick! Didn’t you run a red light?”
“See, Cassandra? I told you he couldn’t let you go.”
“Just pour some red wine in the pool next time; you’ll trick him even faster!”
Cassandra stood and sauntered over, her tone light, almost teasing.
“Since you’re so worried about me, I’ll forgive you this time.”
I said nothing, my gaze fixed firmly on her.
The door opened again. Derek stepped in, carrying a bag of milk tea. He walked straight to Cassandra, producing a cup. His voice was honeyed, smooth enough to drip:
“Cassandra, iced drinks aren’t good for you during your period, so I ordered it room temperature.”
She took it, her smile instantly softening, a touch of shyness coloring her cheeks.
“Thank you, Derek, you’re so thoughtful.”
The girls around them whispered and giggled, eyes wide with envy.
“Look at Derek! So considerate!”
“Exactly! Better than a serious boyfriend who’d just make Cassandra angry.”
“Cassandra, you really need to rethink—he might not be the best match!”
Derek’s gaze flickered toward me. He gave a flawless smile, but his eyes were sharp, venomous under the surface.
“Lucas, you’re here too?” His tone was familiar, casual, yet his gaze lingered pointedly on my clothes before settling on my watch.
“Such good taste in this outfit… and this watch. Cassandra always has an eye for fine things.”
Soft words, like knives cloaked in silk. Every compliment on items I once cherished—some of which Cassandra had given me during our engagement—was a subtle reminder: they had perhaps already passed through her hands, now shaded by another man.
Cassandra seemed blissfully unaware. Flattered by Derek, she took his arm and glared at me with mock severity.
“Lucas’s taste is truly awful. If it weren’t for my guidance, our wedding room would have looked ridiculous. He’s so petty and inconsiderate.”
Derek placed a hand gently on hers, his expression calm and understanding.
“Cassandra, don’t say that. Lucas’s just conservative… a little careless. He actually loves you very much.”
Each word he spoke “excused” me, yet simultaneously tightened the noose. My position felt more desperate, more exposed.
My best friends shook their heads quietly. I watched the scene unfold, detached.
Cassandra nestled against Derek, smiling genuinely, her dependence on him clear. And suddenly, I wanted to laugh—not at them, but at myself. Laugh at my gullibility. Laugh at my endless tolerance, my repeated willingness to believe the lies.
Derek’s voice broke the moment, calm, measured.
“Lucas, I understand why you argued with Cassandra.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Because I lent you something without asking?”
He looked at me squarely, unflinching, without a hint of guilt or evasion.
“Don’t worry,” Derek said, his tone firm. “I’ll return everything to you tomorrow.”
Then he turned to Cassandra. His eyes softened instantly, filled with endless care and consideration.
“I only ask that you don’t get angry with Cassandra again. Stop being so petty.”
The words were smooth, flawless—perfectly crafted to charm.
Cassandra’s eyes glimmered with a clear, watery light I had never seen before. Tenderness radiated from her expression, the kind I had never witnessed directed at me.
“Derek, don’t be like this,” she murmured.
“You’re financially strapped, so take the things and use them. There’s no rush to return them. Lucas and I still have a long way to go before our wedding.”
Chilling. Not a harsh word, but far more piercing.
I couldn’t bear to watch any longer. Every second felt like cruel punishment. I turned and left silently.
Behind me, my friends whispered.
“See? I was right. He must be jealous again.”
“That’s right. Such a small temper… only Cassandra could tolerate that.”
Cassandra’s voice floated casually through the dimly lit hallway.
“Don’t worry about him. I’ll calm him down with a few words tomorrow.”
The air was heavy with the cloying scent of cigarettes, alcohol, and incense. I walked straight to the exit without hesitation.
---
The next morning, while having breakfast, my phone vibrated.
A message had appeared in the homeowners’ group chat—from a girl I barely knew.
"Hello, are all the items in 801 really free?"
I replied curtly, “Yes.”
Then I sent all the photos I had taken the night before—furniture, appliances, ornaments, even curtains and carpets—one by one. The notification beeps kept coming, confirming each upload.
After breakfast, I arrived at the bridal chamber and heard a commotion inside.
Derek was directing several workers, assembling a large Italian-style round bed. He moved casually, relaxed, as if he owned the room outright.
Cassandra hurried over to me, smiling brightly. She took my arm.
“Lucas, you’ve arrived just in time! Derek ordered the Italian-style round bed for us—it just arrived. Remember to pay for it later.”
Her eyes curved sweetly, matter-of-fact. I slowly pulled my arm away, my voice low but firm.
“He bought the bed. Why should I pay for it?”
Her smile froze. Her brows furrowed, displeasure flickering in her eyes.
“Lucas… what do you mean?”
“So early in the morning, looking for another fight?”
Derek stepped forward, calm and gentle.
“Cassey, don’t be like this.”
Then he looked at me, his gaze both sincere and subtly sarcastic.
“Lucas, if you think the bed is too expensive, I can pay for it. There’s no need to get upset over such a small sum.”
I laughed, low and cutting.
“A mere $11,500? You think I’d find that too much?”
