My fiance called me to post bail after he was arrested.

When I arrived, however, I was informed that he was caught in a compromising position.

"I came to protect Lily because I was worried for her safety," my fiance retorted, putting an arm around her shoulder. "But her boyfriend didn't believe me. Or is it the same for you too? Go post bail already."

Nonetheless, I spied the lacy underwear poking out ever so slightly over his belt.

In the past, I would have made a scene as I demanded an explanation.

But now, I was as cool as a cucumber.

When the cops asked what our relationship was, I paused in thought for a moment, before saying quietly, "His employer."

Once I signed the papers, I texted my brother:

[I'll go on that blind date. Schedule it for three days later.]

Lily Thompson's boyfriend was still hollering as we left the precinct, while my boyfriend Paul Gibson had an arm around Lily's shoulder, as if asserting dominance.

In a matter of minutes—with Lily siding with Paul too, her boyfriend bellowed, "I'm done! I'm breaking up with you!"

As he stormed off, I wasn't bothered to watch Paul and Lily pretending to comfort each other, and got in the car.

I was riding shotgun, but Lily suddenly caught my hand before I could put on the seatbelt, looking past me at Paul who got in the driver's seat, "I'm scared of sitting at the back alone…"

As she spoke, her tears welled up in her eyes, at once bright and innocent.

And as she finished, her tears quietly rolled down her cheeks.

But it just so happened that delicate appearance was what Paul loved.

Still, I snapped at Lily impatiently, "Then walk home yourself."

The ensuing silence was cold and forbidding, and Paul soon snapped coldly, "How could you be so vile, Jessica?! It's so cold out here, and it's so far from Lily's home! Are you trying to hurt her again?! Get in the back!"

Before I could refuse, he took off my seatbelt, while Lily hung her head and murmured, "It's all my fault. I'll just walk home by myself."

Her tears wet the ground, and it seemed to sting Paul's heart.

He hurried out of the car, no longer his usual gentlemanly self as he pulled me out of the car savagely.

I cried out in pain as my knees scraped against the concrete floor, but Paul simply threw me aside without another look.

He then carefully helped Lily into the car, winding down his window and shot me a cool look from behind the wheel, "Since you prefer to walk, then walk home yourself! I'm taking Lily home!"

Before he closed his window, he added, "Don't wait up for me. I'm staying with Lily."

As for Lily, she was smiling smugly at me even as she apologized, "Safe travels, Jessica."

Even as the car drove off, I could even see them holding hands, their fingers interlocked.

I watched the car sped off into the distance as indescribable pain gnawed my heart.

I only came to my senses when my phone started ringing.

It was a call from my brother, Neil.

"Jessica? I've called the Jones family! It's done!"

He had set me up on a blind date with Tim Jones.

I once met him at a banquet, and he was exceptionally handsome.

As I wasn't talking, Neil rambled, "Well, at least you've finally come around. Did that brat even have anything going for him? That son of a maid isn't even fit to lick your shoes, but you're dumb enough to go against our family for his sake."

His words were like a boulder crushing my heart, suffocating me.

There was no doubt that Paul didn't deserve me.

Back then, I had chosen to live independently just to avoid my family's arranged marriage.

That was also when I met Paul, whose endless affection left me falling for him right away.

I thought I found true love, and took up this marathon of a relationship over the last five years until now.

He had nothing to his name, so I emptied my savings to support his business.

He said he didn't want to be a father, so I had an abortion.

At that time, I really thought that true love would conquer all—that it was enough as long as he loved me, that I could live with the pain.

But now, I was tired and didn't want to bear with it anymore.

I was going to get married, but Paul Gibson wouldn't be my bridegroom.

I waited by the road for thirty minutes, before finally hailing a cab to leave.

Perhaps feeling guilty, Paul actually came home that night, but entered to find me packing a suitcase.

"Running away again?!" He promptly bellowed.

I never stopped, replying nonchalantly, "Just packing some clothes."

At those words, I subtly moved aside, keeping my distance.

The sickly sweet perfume clinging to his body combined with the scent of shampoo left me with a headache.

Still, his expression stiffened as he noticed me moving away, and muttered as if for his own benefit, "The closet is just a little small. When we marry and move to a bigger house, I'll make you an entire wardrobe room, okay?"

In the past, I would have thought he really cared, even doting on me.

I would be scrambling over myself to say yes, and fantasize about our married life.

Now, anything he said left me feeling disgusted and deceived.

Still, seeing that I was not responding, he didn't press the issue and headed into the bedroom, unbothered.

He never sweet-talked me—even when I was upset.

He knew that all he had to do was beckon at me, and I would run up to him, apologizing and humbly asking to make up with him.

If anything, the fact that he spoke up first after we fought earlier was already the greatest compromise he would afford me.

Later, I entered the bedroom.

Water was splashing audibly from the bathroom, and Paul's phone was outside, vibrating endlessly.

His screen was still lit, and displayed his chat with Lily: [Paul, which one should I use for my wallpaper?]

She had sent him so many photos that one would never know where to look.

And in every single photo, Lily and Paul were at once affectionate and intimate.

There were even wedding photos, as if they were actually newlyweds.

Even the backdrops were places that I had personally picked.

Hah! And he always told me that he was busy—in the end, he just didn't want to go with me!

The apathy I felt just earlier was suddenly washed off, and my heart clenched, as if seized by a giant, unseen hand.

I used to be so excited and asked him to choose from our many photos too, but he'd just wave me off impatiently, not even bothering to look up. "No time. Stop bothering me."

I still remembered the look on his face then.

That man and the man in Lily's photos—who smiled as dazzlingly as the sun, were certainly two different people.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened, and Paul came bellowing as he rushed at me, "Who told you to look?!"

He snatched it off so forcefully before I could react.

Then, seeing in just a second that I had swiped through his chat log, he pushed me to the floor, "Who told you to touch my phone?! Are you crazy?!"

I crashed on a table, and it cut into my leg, drawing blood.

He didn't seem to notice, and kept ranting at me as he replied to Lily's text—as if I was the third-wheeler meddling in their relationship.

Actually, I wouldn't have kept reading even if Paul never came out.

There really was nothing to see in those texts.

It was just photos of lacey underwear, flirting and the like.

I had seen what I needed to, and the worst had already passed.

I used to lose sleep as I stared at our chat that was hardly used, waiting day and night for Paul to come home.

In the end, I would still tirelessly share anything with him.

Days—perhaps weeks later, when he felt like it, he would reply shortly.

[Oh.]

[Yeah.]

[Right.]

That, and nothing else.

I wiped off the blood from my leg, and stood up, limping.

"It won't happen again."

At my words, Paul suddenly stopped ranting.

Paul froze in shock, and it took a while for him to stammer, "It's all just a misunderstanding. It's just photos from Lily's birthday."

"You know that she doesn't have a family—I was just taking photos with her as her brother."

As he spoke, he was afraid to look me in the eye.

It left me snickering—he actually had a conscience?

Lily's parents and Paul's parents were friends for years, and they grew up together.

But one day, Lily's parents got into an accident on the way to pick up Paul, and with their dying breath, they entrusted Lily in his care.

That was why Paul felt guilt, and was really doting on Lily.

At first, there was proper distance between them. However, they were virtually glued to each other now.

As such, his explanations were absolutely feeble to me.

Still, I fought back tears and said quietly, "I'm fine. Don't worry. If you marry her—"

Even before I finished, Paul slapped me across the face, knocking me to the floor, leaving a clear red palm print that soon swelled.

"Are you crazy?!" He bellowed at me. "Lily is like a sister to me! Did you think everyone is as cheap as you, flirting with every man you see?!"

The fiery pain jolted my muddled mind awake.

I snorted as I slowly turned towards him, "You're right."

I was being cheap.

That was how Paul had me wrapped around his finger, treating me like a clown for his own amusement.

Still, he soon realized what he had done, and panic showed in his eyes, "Jessica, I wasn't—"

"Paul."

I suddenly cut him short, as I found this soap opera so dull that I didn't want to keep it up. "I'm going to—"

Before I could finish, Paul's phone rang.

"Oh, Paul… I'm so scared! I'm all alone… I miss my parents… They'd definitely be with me if they were still around…"

"It's alright. I'll be right there."

He didn't even bother to ask me for my opinion this time, and promptly got dressed to leave.

Still, he stopped at the doorway and turned around, "What were you going to tell me?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. You should go."