After five years together, on the day of my wedding dress fitting, my fiancé, Liam, abandoned me alone at the bridal shop. He had to rush my sister Ashley’s pet cat, which had a mild case of diarrhea, to the emergency vet. Over the phone, his voice was filled with impatience. “Chloe, can you stop being so dramatic? Is a cat’s life not more important than you trying on some dress?” “Fine, then the wedding is off.” I calmly took off the custom-made wedding dress, worth three hundred thousand dollars. He was convinced I was just throwing a tantrum. After all, everyone knew I loved him without an ounce of dignity. He thought that in less than three days, I would come crawling back to him, begging him to reconcile, just like before. But he didn’t know I had just landed an offer from a multinational investment bank, with an annual salary of three million, and was about to leave. As for him? Whoever wants him, can have him. After all, love that comes too late is worthless. And my life, it was just beginning.
“Just because I didn’t go with you to try on wedding dresses and went to take care of Ashley’s cat instead, you want to call off our wedding?” On the other end of the phone, Liam’s voice dripped with condescending mockery. “Chloe, are you out of your mind? Is that all it takes?” “Yes, that’s all it takes.” I looked at myself in the mirror, dressed in the pure white wedding gown, my eyes devoid of any emotion. “I’m breaking off the engagement with you. We’re done.” Liam scoffed into the phone. In the background, I could hear my sister Ashley’s overly sweet, affected voice trying to soothe him. “This is the eighth time you’ve threatened to break up with me this year. Chloe, you’re an adult. Stop playing these dramatic games. I’m exhausted.” “I’m absolutely certain I want to break up. Do you understand?” I had never felt this clear-headed in my entire life. Liam gritted his teeth, his voice cold and hard: “Fine, you’ve got nerve. If you dare walk out of that bridal shop today, even if you get down on your knees and beg me later, I won’t spare you another glance. Don’t you dare regret this!” The call was abruptly disconnected. I took a deep breath, called the sales assistant, and unzipped the back of the dress without hesitation. The wedding dress was heavy. The moment I took it off, I felt the five-year-old boulder that had been weighing on my heart shatter on the floor with it. Just as I changed back into my regular clothes and was about to push the door open to leave, my phone screen lit up. It was a photo from Ashley. In the picture, Liam was bending down, carefully feeding goat milk to a Ragdoll cat, his profile so tender it could melt. Below it was a caption: “Piglet is throwing another tantrum? Oh my, I’m so jealous you have so much free time to get emotional every day. Liam is just too kind; he can’t bear to ignore even a cat. Sis, don’t be mad at him, okay?” “Piglet.” Seeing that nickname, my stomach lurched, and a wave of disgust shot straight to my head. My name is Chloe. When I was little, I was chubby from a medical condition. Ashley had always rallied all the kids at school to call me “Piglet,” and once even pushed me into a mud pit, saying pigs belonged in the mud. Ashley calling me that was one thing, but I had explicitly told Liam thousands of times that I hated that nickname, that it was a lifelong childhood trauma. Yet, just two days ago, Liam, in front of his shady friends, chuckled and patted my head, saying, “My Piglet just has a big temper.” I froze on the spot, but he blamed me for not being able to take a joke. Now, Ashley was using that condescending tone to sicken me again. I didn’t send a long message arguing with her like before, nor did I hysterically call Liam to confront him. I simply saved the screenshot, closed the chat, and muted both of them. Stepping out of the bridal shop, the sun was blinding. I hailed an Uber. “To the airport, please.” To hell with love, to hell with family. I was done playing along.
“Are you crazy? You actually broke up? Even returned the wedding dress?” My best friend, Sophia, sat across from me, so shocked she spilled her coffee. I calmly stirred the ice in my cup. “We broke up. This time, it’s for real.” “No way…” Sophia swallowed, looking at me like I was an alien. “Chloe, don’t get mad at me for being blunt, but breaking up just like that? That’s not like you at all. You used to be completely obsessed with him.” “That was then, this is now. I find him disgusting.” I took a sip of my iced Americano. The bitter taste spread through my throat, yet it cleared my head completely. Sophia sighed, reaching out to cover my hand. “If it’s over, it’s over. You should’ve dumped that jerk ages ago. But the question is, can you really let him go?” *Can you really let him go?* I had asked myself that same question countless tear-filled nights in the past. Could I really let go of Liam? Five years ago, I was a chubby girl, bloated from long-term hormone medication, and insecure to my core. That day, I was working part-time at a convenience store when a wealthy woman in designer clothes insisted I had stolen her diamond ring, which she claimed had fallen on the counter. She pointed her finger at me, cursing: “It was you, you fat pig! Look at your pathetic self, probably never seen anything this expensive in your life, have you? Hand it over, or I’m calling the cops!” I was speechless, sweating nervously, surrounded by onlookers who were all pointing fingers at me. “It wasn’t me, I really didn’t take it, the surveillance camera is broken, but I really didn’t take it…” I was so anxious I started crying, but no one believed me. Just as the woman raised her hand to slap my face, a hand with distinct knuckles firmly gripped her wrist. I opened my eyes and saw Liam, dressed in a white shirt. He stood in front of me, his voice clear and firm: “Ma’am, although the surveillance camera is broken, I was standing behind the shelves the whole time. I saw with my own eyes your ring fall into a pocket in your own handbag. If you continue to be unreasonable, I will report you for slander.” The woman froze, rummaged through her bag, and indeed found the ring. She eventually slunk away. As the crowd dispersed, I nervously clutched the hem of my shirt, unable to utter a complete thank you. He turned to me, smiled, his eyes sparkling. He gently said, “Don’t be scared. If you didn’t do it, no one can wrongly accuse you.” In that moment, Liam became the only light in my otherwise bleak life. Later, I desperately worked to lose weight, desperately tried to be good to him. I thought I had found a lifeline, that I, someone who had been unlucky for over twenty years, finally deserved a little bit of love. The day I confessed my feelings, Liam’s eyes welled up. He pulled me into a hug. “Chloe, you don’t need to change anything for me. You’re adorable when you’re plump, and beautiful when you’re thin. As long as it’s you, I love you.” I remembered those words for five years. I thought it was a mutual salvation. Until Ashley returned home, until she, as my “sister,” forcefully wedged herself into our lives. That’s when I realized Liam’s tenderness was never exclusive to me. He could shine his light on me, but he could just as generously cast it upon Ashley. And I? I was just a cheap prop he used to feel good about himself and showcase his kindness.
Ashley first contacted Liam using the excuse that her “computer was broken.” “Chloe, I heard your boyfriend works in IT. Can you send me his SnapChat? My computer crashed, and I urgently need to work on some files.” My sister and I had been at odds since childhood, so her sudden friendliness took me by surprise. I foolishly sent her Liam’s contact. For the next two weeks, Ashley didn’t contact me again, and I assumed the computer was fixed and the matter was over. Until one day, the three of us accidentally met out and went to dinner. While ordering, I was about to choose a mango pastry when Liam suddenly pressed my hand, blurting out, “Don’t order that. Ashley is allergic to mangoes.” My whole body froze, a buzzing sound in my head. I had never told Liam that Ashley was allergic to mangoes. I turned to Ashley, who was covering her mouth, giggling, “Oh my, Liam has such a good memory. I just casually mentioned it when we were chatting the night before last, and you actually remembered.” The night before last? Chatting? I looked at Liam, feeling a chill run through me. So, without my knowledge, they had become close enough to chat late at night. On the way home that day, I lost my temper with Liam for the first time. “Why were you secretly contacting my sister behind my back?” Liam, however, looked innocent, even a little impatient: “Chloe, do you have some kind of paranoia? She’s your own sister! She just got back to the country; she doesn’t know a lot of things. What’s wrong with her asking me? Aren’t I taking care of your sister to make a good impression on your family, for our future?” “But you crossed a line!” I yelled, my eyes red. “Crossed a line? I just helped her fix her computer and chatted casually for a bit. How is that crossing a line? Piglet, can you stop being so sensitive? Are you serious about making such a fuss over something so trivial?” *Piglet.* He called me Piglet again. I instantly felt all my strength drain away. I thought that by showing him my scabbed wound, he would be sympathetic, but instead, he unhesitatingly rubbed salt in it. From then on, Ashley seemed to have a get-out-of-jail-free card, becoming more and more brazen. I’d ask Liam to pick up a package for me on his way home from work, and he’d put it off for three days, saying he was too tired. But if Ashley wanted late-night street tacos from across town, he’d immediately put on his jacket and drive halfway across the city to get them. For Valentine’s Day, he gave me a wilting, discounted bouquet of roses. For Ashley’s birthday, however, he spent half a month’s salary to pick out a limited-edition necklace for her at a boutique. I argued, I cried, I even confronted my parents. But what did they say? “Ashley is your sister! What’s wrong with Liam helping her out? You’re not even married yet, and you’re already controlling your man so tightly. With your petty and small-minded personality, who would ever want you in the future?” “Ashley has always been more outstanding and sensible than you! Her testing your boyfriend for you is for your own good! Don’t be ungrateful!” Everyone stood on their moral high ground, accusing me. Everyone thought I was making a mountain out of a molehill, that I was an irrational lunatic. Over time, I even started to doubt myself: Was I really too narrow-minded? Did I really have a mental illness? I fell into a deep cycle of self-destruction, checking his phone like a maniac every day, looking for clues, only to be harshly shamed by him using the excuse of “family loyalty.” What truly made me give up completely, what made me finally tear that cancerous growth from my heart, was the day I had surgery last month.
Last month, I had stomach pain for over two weeks straight, and medication wasn’t helping. The doctor recommended I undergo minimally invasive stomach surgery immediately to remove a suspicious polyp. I was terrified. I told Liam a week in advance, hoping he could accompany me to the hospital that day. He was staring at his phone screen, not even looking up when he said, “I have a big project at work next week; I really can’t get away. It’s just minor surgery. Go by yourself, don’t be so delicate.” Suppressing my heartache, I signed the surgical consent form myself and lay alone on the cold operating table. After the anesthesia wore off, I was in so much pain I was covered in cold sweat, unable even to pour myself a glass of water. Weakly, I pulled out my phone, wanting to call Liam and hear his voice. The call connected; the background was a bit noisy. “Hello, Liam, are you done with work? I’m in so much pain…” My voice was trembling. “I’m with a client right now. It’s really loud here, so I can’t talk. Just drink some water and take it easy.” He spoke quickly, hanging up the phone in less than ten seconds. I stared at the black screen, tears silently streaming down my face. Just then, I wanted to get some hot water from the dispenser at the end of the hallway. I leaned against the wall, painstakingly moving one step at a time. As I reached the corner, I suddenly froze. Right outside the orthopedic clinic diagonally opposite, my boyfriend, who was supposedly “with a client,” was kneeling on the ground, his face full of concern, massaging Ashley’s ankle. Ashley, wearing killer heels, leaned delicately against a chair. “It’s all your fault, insisting on taking me to that walking street. My feet are all blistered.” Liam carefully applied a bandage, his tone unusually gentle: “My fault, my fault. I’ll carry you downstairs later, okay?” In that moment, the cold draft in the hospital hallway chilled me to the bone, cutting through my thin patient gown. I didn’t rush up and slap them, nor did I cause a scene like a furious banshee. I just stood there quietly, watching them laughing and chatting as they entered the elevator. Suddenly, I felt so tired. So incredibly tired. For a man who didn’t love me, for a sister who never respected my dignity, I had tormented myself, making myself out to be a pathetic fool. A “knight in shining armor” doesn’t just turn into a villain; the signs were always there. He wasn’t clueless about boundaries; he just didn’t care about my feelings. Whether he was trying to curry favor with my family under the guise of “taking care of my sister” or using the “sister” excuse to flirt with Ashley, I no longer cared to investigate. I, Chloe, never want anything that’s tainted. I leaned against the wall, slowly walking back to my room, pulling the covers over my head, and sleeping a surprisingly peaceful sleep. From that day on, I stopped arguing with him, stopped checking his phone, and stopped getting angry over Ashley’s provocations. Liam still thought I had finally “grown up” and learned to be “generous.” He didn’t know that when a woman stops arguing with you, it means she has completely given up on you. I started furiously preparing for the final stage of the CFA (Chartered Financial Analyst) exam, while secretly submitting my resume to several top investment banks in New York. I was never inferior to Ashley growing up. My college entrance exam scores were dozens of points higher than hers, and I won national scholarships every year in university. But my parents were biased, pouring all the family’s resources into the manipulative Ashley, forcefully cutting off my chance to study abroad and pushing me to start working early to support the family. But now, I refused to accept my fate. When my gaze was no longer fixed on Liam and Ashley, that despicable pair, I found my world to be incredibly vast. With my stellar resume and an almost perfect interview performance, I smoothly landed a Senior Associate position at a top-tier investment bank in New York, with an annual salary plus bonuses reaching close to three million. Everything was ready; all that was left was a dignified breakup. Initially, I had intended to calmly explain things to him on the day of the wedding dress fitting. But he just *had* to go take care of Ashley’s cat. So be it. Go live your life with that cat.
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