At the company dinner, Tyler the intern took a bite of his eel and tossed it directly into my fiancée’s plate. She picked it up without hesitation and ate it. That night, I tore up our wedding agreement and threw it in the trash. She took off her glasses, exhausted: “Over a piece of eel?” “He took a bite before giving it to you.” Claire let out a cold laugh: “Adrian, I had no idea you were this petty.” “Fine. No wedding then. Just don’t you dare regret it.” She was convinced I loved her too much to ever let go. But I just smiled: “Perfect. Saves me from ruining my future.” 0 That same day, I told my parents I wanted to change my marriage arrangement. Though surprised, they didn’t press me with questions. They respected my decision. As expected, Claire launched into a cold war soon after. Blocked number, deleted contact, cut off all communication. Her methods were smooth as a rehearsed routine. She remained confident that I’d come crawling back like I always did. But this time, I stared at that familiar friend request notification on my screen and never hit confirm. A week later, a message popped up in the company group chat: “Miss Sullivan’s birthday celebration tonight. Everyone must attend.” Not wanting to cause a scene, I went anyway. I pushed open the private room door and immediately spotted Claire at the head seat, with Tyler practically pressed against her ear, whispering something. They were deep in conversation, like they existed in their own little bubble that no one else could penetrate. As they laughed, they leaned closer and closer, almost like they were about to kiss. I looked away and took a seat in the corner, drinking alone. Colleagues took turns presenting their gifts. I didn’t move. Until a shadow fell across my table. I looked up to find Claire’s bright face tinged with displeasure. “Adrian, where’s my gift?” In the past, I would’ve started preparing months in advance for a day like this. I once spent weeks building her a replica of that walking mechanical castle from Clockwork Heart. When the gears started turning and steam poured from the copper pipes, she gently took my hand and said: “We’ll be just like Erin and Kyle. No matter where this castle goes, we’ll always find each other.” Back then, I believed her. I never imagined her “forever” wouldn’t even last three years. “Forgot.” My response was flat. Claire’s expression darkened: “How long are you going to keep this up? Over something so trivial?” My gaze drifted to her smudged lipstick, courtesy of Tyler, and I felt my stomach turn: “I’m not keeping anything up. Canceling the wedding is serious.” Her expression stiffened briefly, but she regained her composure when Tyler took her hand. “Don’t get the wrong idea,” Tyler explained softly. “I just didn’t want to waste food. If it bothers you that much, next time I’ll just wait until everyone’s done eating.” His words instantly triggered Claire’s protective instincts: “Tyler, you deserve the best! Adrian should be the one leaving. Who does he think he is?” Tyler walked over and patted my shoulder: “Come on, man. Be the bigger person. Claire hasn’t been sleeping well these past few days. I know you two aren’t compatible, but you’re still engaged…” I knocked his hand away with a cold laugh: “Tyler, you know what I admire most about you?” “You play both sides and still manage to steal someone’s fiancée without batting an eye.” The second Tyler’s smile froze, Claire exploded: “Adrian, how dare you slander Tyler!” “Slander? Then explain why he has an identical copy of everything you’ve ever given me?” “Why does he somehow know about every fight we have before anyone else? And why does he know you have a small mole on your chest—” “Enough!” A sharp slap echoed through the room. My left ear rang. My vision blurred. All I could see were my colleagues’ pitying and mocking stares, silently bearing down on me. The ringing gradually faded. In its place came Claire’s clear, triumphant declaration: “Starting today, everyone’s welcome to like the photos of me and Tyler together. Once we hit a thousand likes, I’ll call off the engagement and marry Tyler instead.” Before I could respond, she grabbed Tyler’s hand and walked out without looking back. As they passed me, Tyler shot me an unmistakable look of victory. After they left, gleeful whispers floated through the room: “Acting all high and mighty. Now it’s too late for regrets.” A colleague I knew well came over and spoke quietly: “Adrian, just go apologize. You can’t seriously let Miss Sullivan make a rash decision like this…” I knew this was just another one of her tactics to make me submit. But this time, I refused to give in. 0
The once-bustling private room emptied quickly, leaving only me behind. I grabbed the remaining liquor on the table and downed it in one gulp. The burning liquid scorched my throat and stomach, making my eyes sting. Nearly twenty years of history between us. Turns out, severing it wasn’t so hard after all. Fine. I’d accept my family’s arrangement, fly thousands of miles to Manhattan, get married, and advance the new partnership. The distance would be far enough. She wouldn’t be able to bother me anymore. Strange though—my face felt cold and wet again. Back home, I started packing. Claire and I grew up together. Most of my life had been tangled up with hers. There were too many things left behind. Every single one pulled at a memory. This faded paper flower was the first little prize she ever won in kindergarten. She ran up to me on her tiny legs and carefully placed it in my palm: “Adrian, the best things are for you!” This yellowed photo captured her flushed face the first time she got her period. She hadn’t paid attention in health class and thought she was dying. She ran to me to discuss her “final wishes,” telling me to find a girlfriend less pretty than her after she was gone. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Once I figured out what was happening, I rushed to the convenience store to buy pads. We sat there together, reading the instructions, trying to figure out how to use them. I teased her for not paying attention in class. She bit my arm in frustration. Strangely, it didn’t hurt at all. Instead, my heart filled with a secret sweetness. Later, we officially got together. Different universities meant four years of long distance. I’d saved a thick stack of plane tickets over those years, documenting over 120,000 miles of devotion. Back then, her heart and eyes were full of me. She crossed mountains and seas without ever complaining. My fingers brushed against a small hard box. Inside lay a pair of simple matching rings we’d made together. For her, I didn’t hesitate to return to this city after graduation. The day I came back, she dragged me to a jeweler to make these rings. She solemnly slid the ring onto my finger and said with a smile: “Adrian, once you put this on, you’re mine for life. Don’t ever think about running away.” Back then, we both believed that the sincerity in our vows would last forever. Neither of us imagined she’d be the first one to let go. The day Tyler came in for his interview, he performed terribly. Claire made no effort to hide her disdain. I didn’t take the underqualified candidate seriously either. But somehow, he ended up getting hired anyway, joining the company as an intern. I started getting suspicious when I noticed the ring that was supposed to be ours alone appeared on Tyler’s finger. At first, when I confronted her, Claire would patiently explain and sweet-talk me. Gradually, though, her responses turned impatient. My repeated compromises, reluctance to let go, and attempts to please her only made her favoritism toward Tyler grow bolder. Company dinners were planned around Tyler’s preferences alone. He only showed up half a day each week, spending the rest of his time touring around with Claire. Meanwhile, all his menial intern tasks were dumped on me by Claire herself. She mentioned him more and more often in front of me. What started as unconscious admiration turned into direct comparisons, criticizing me for being unromantic and not sweet enough. Then came that company coffee break. Claire praised the latte she ordered, and Tyler leaned over saying he wanted to try it. She casually handed him her cup without even changing the straw. Tyler drank from it, his lips touching her lipstick mark. What made my chest tighten even more was how naturally she took it back and continued drinking from the same straw. How was that any different from kissing? In that moment, my heart felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand, leaving me breathless with bitterness. 0
From then on, Tyler’s boundary-crossing behavior spiraled out of control. He’d help her with skincare, personally applying lotion to her skin. When she twisted her ankle, he ignored me standing right there and carried her to the nurse’s office on his back. She even canceled birthday plans she’d made with me because Tyler caught a little cold. Whenever I expressed dissatisfaction, Claire would snap impatiently: “Adrian, you see dirt in everything! He’s just an intern. What could possibly happen between us? Stop projecting your filthy thoughts onto other people!” But later, even she sounded less and less convinced when she said it. What hurt most was an important industry gala. The host explicitly required attendees to bring their partners. She hid it from me and brought Tyler instead. I only found out afterward when multiple people asked if we’d broken up. When I confronted her, she was angrier than I was: “I only brought him so he could learn! Don’t interns need experience? Can you stop being so petty?” That time, our cold war lasted so long I almost thought we’d reached the end. Until she sent me a late-night text: “Babe, my stomach hurts so bad…” All my pretend indifference crumbled instantly. And so the terrible cycle repeated: I’d question. She’d get angry. I’d try to please her. She’d forgive me. I closed the ring box and tossed it in the trash. At the very back of the drawer was a letter she wrote me at eighteen, apologizing for missing one of my messages. Back then, she truly cared about me. Now, her heart and mind were full of nothing but that intern. I pulled out that yellowed apology letter, tore it into tiny pieces, and scattered them into the trash. Decades of attachment, completely erased. The house felt emptier in an instant, and my heart felt just as hollow. In the company group chat, photos kept flooding in of Tyler celebrating Claire’s birthday and making her laugh. Colleagues who understood Claire’s preferences scrambled to flatter them: “Miss Sullivan and Tyler are SO sweet together!” “If you’re looking for a boyfriend, find someone warm like Tyler, not someone who’s cold all the time like Adrian.” “An intern like Tyler can take such good care of Miss Sullivan—now THAT’S devotion…” I didn’t bother reading anymore. I called my lawyer: “Withdraw all my investments from Sullivan & Co.” Claire, I don’t love you anymore. I hope you won’t regret this.
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