The movie had been playing for ten minutes, but my boyfriend Julian still hadn’t shown up. I was about to call him when my phone buzzed. I saw his childhood friend Lydia messaging him in their gaming group chat: “Julian, we agreed to play together tonight.” The next second, Julian replied: “Okay! I’m coming right now!” I didn’t argue with him. Instead, I turned off my phone, bought some popcorn, and walked into the theater alone. After the movie ended, I found Julian had called me over a dozen times, along with one text message: “Tonight’s game is really important to Lydia! I promise I’ll go to the movies with you tomorrow, okay?” I didn’t reply. My tomorrow didn’t need him anymore. When Julian came home, I was sitting on the couch playing a game. “I bought you roses. Do you like them?” He half-knelt on the floor, holding out a bouquet to appease me. I barely glanced at him. “Thanks.” Seeing I didn’t seem angry, he let out a long breath and hummed a tune as he turned on the TV to watch entertainment news. I paused my game, cleaned up the takeout containers, stood up and headed toward the kitchen. As I passed the trash can, I casually tossed the flowers in. His face stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I explained simply: “I’m allergic to pollen.” I’d been hospitalized twice because of pollen allergies. He’d actually forgotten. Before, when we fought, he’d bring me roses and I’d accept them all. Looking back now, I was so stupid. Julian looked a bit embarrassed and tried to recover: “I’ll get you a different gift next time, okay? By the way, I’m hungry.” “There are chips on the table.” I yawned, preparing to head to my room to sleep. Julian froze. His face showed disbelief. “You’re not going to cook me pasta? I want your meat sauce pasta! You used to say chips weren’t healthy.” I stopped in my tracks and said seriously: “Having them once or twice won’t hurt. Besides, your stomach is fine.” Julian was left speechless. He used to be a professional e-sports player, now he’s a coach. Because of training, he often couldn’t eat on time, so naturally his stomach suffered. That’s why I learned to cook and made him good food. But once, when I brought him soup at the training room, I discovered all the food I’d made for him had been given to Lydia. That time I was really angry. I cried and made a scene. Julian just quietly watched me lose it. Only after I’d cried myself out did he pull me into his arms. “Lydia and I are just friends. Scarlett, you’re two years older than me—can’t you be more mature about this? It’s just a lunch box. My stomach is fine, I can eat anything.” Julian frowned, looked me up and down, then suddenly let out a mocking laugh: “I get that you’re upset I didn’t go to the movie. But you left our gaming group without a word—do you know how awkward that made Lydia look as the group admin?” I left a group chat and somehow that made Lydia lose face? I immediately countered: “I don’t know anyone in that group anyway. What’s wrong with leaving?” With that, I headed toward my room. But his expression changed, and he blocked me at the doorway. “When you left the group, Lydia had just asked me to play. People who don’t know better might think she ruined our relationship and made you so angry you left.” Now I really couldn’t help but laugh. So he was afraid Lydia would be labeled as the other woman. “I’ll clarify it.” I said impatiently. “That’s not what I meant…” He tried to explain. But I pushed him out and locked the bedroom door.
Of course Julian wouldn’t sleep on the couch. The last time he slept on the couch was before his retirement. I’d stayed up all night with him during training. I fell asleep on his single bed watching a movie in the middle of the night. Not wanting to wake me, he tiptoed over and squeezed himself onto a single sofa for the whole night. I told him to get a bigger bed. He just smiled and tapped my nose: “Nice try—you’re not managing me twenty-four hours a day.” Now the training room has a king-size bed. When I asked why, he shrugged and said: “Lydia sometimes rests here after hosting competitions. The small bed wasn’t comfortable for her.” His straightforward attitude left me speechless. He didn’t even realize that he’d instinctively started putting Lydia before everything else. Julian hadn’t been home for three days. But his social media was full of his activities. He was back to hanging out at racing tracks and bars, in his element. He’d posted more in three days than in the previous six months combined. Scrolling down, I saw Lydia’s Instagram post. In the photo, Julian wore a racing suit, his arm around Lydia’s waist, smiling as he held up a trophy. The caption read: [Boys will be boys—what a big baby] The two of them looked exactly like a couple in love, sharing their joy. I casually liked the post. Then I took a cab to the office and submitted my resignation. My manager was shocked. “Why are you suddenly quitting?” She knew how hard I’d worked to get where I was. From an industry rookie to somewhat established, I’d built my network and resources through countless late nights. Sometimes I even had to drink with clients. I didn’t actually like this industry. But I persevered, partly because this job helped Julian’s career, and partly because I wanted to save money while I was young. As the manager signed the papers, she teased: “I heard your family all lives abroad. Are you going back to get married?” I shook my head with a smile. “I just miss home.” Back then, I’d ignored my family’s objections and stubbornly chased love to a foreign land. Turns out I’d lost the bet. When my colleagues learned I was leaving, they insisted on a farewell dinner. I couldn’t refuse, so I smiled and said I’d treat them. I just didn’t expect to run into Julian and Lydia at the restaurant. Fortunately, they were leaving just as we arrived. When we passed each other, Julian’s eyes swept over me coldly, then he smiled and put his arm around Lydia’s shoulder. “Come on, let me introduce you to car bombs.” Surprise flashed across Lydia’s face as she looked at me with a challenging expression. She deliberately leaned close to Julian’s ear and laughed sweetly. “Aren’t you afraid Scarlett will get upset again?” Julian sneered. “Like she has any say?” I listened to their footsteps fade away and breathed a sigh of relief. This was for the best—avoiding awkwardness. That night I had a great time chatting with my colleagues. By the time we finished, it was past midnight. I was about to call a cab when a familiar Porsche Panamera stopped in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing Julian’s grim face. “Get in.” I was both surprised and exasperated—drunk driving is illegal! He saw right through my thoughts and yelled irritably: “Out drinking with a bunch of guys until midnight—Scarlett, you’re something else.” “I haven’t been drinking. Just get in the car!” It was indeed hard to get a cab at this hour. I wasn’t going to be stubborn, so I plopped into the back seat. After getting in, I closed my eyes to rest. When I rolled down the window for some air, I realized the car was still parked. I opened my eyes to meet Julian’s very complicated expression. “Scarlett, do you think I’m your chauffeur?” I paused, then spoke without thinking. “Didn’t you say before that I don’t get carsick, so I should just sit in the back?”
I’m not really one to bring up the past, especially since I was planning to break up anyway. But his righteous accusation, as if I was truly rude, made me fire back sarcastically. The passenger seat had briefly belonged to me once. After Lydia moved, Julian started “conveniently” giving her rides to and from work. She got terrible motion sickness. Julian shot me a look: “Scarlett, you don’t get carsick. Go sit in the back.” I felt a lump in my throat, my nose stinging. “Why should I? I’m not going.” From then on, he left early every day to avoid me, afraid I’d try to catch a ride. I took a breath and closed my eyes again. “If you’re not driving, unlock the door. I’ll get a cab.” I heard a helpless sigh, and the car started moving. After we got home, Julian rubbed his temples, looking exhausted. “Scarlett, can we stop this?” All I wanted was a hot bath. I answered absently, “Fine.” But he suddenly became agitated. “Lydia and I really are just friends. She said she’d never tried racing, so I took her.” “I know.” I stood in front of the closet, internally debating whether to use a bath sponge or bath salts this time. He seemed lost. “Then why haven’t you been replying to my messages?” I pretended not to hear and walked into the bathroom. It turned out that after I’d learned from him and muted his notifications, he’d sent me so many messages. [I went to the bar because you locked your bedroom door. I can’t exactly sleep on the floor, can I?] [I’ve decided—I’m never giving up my love of racing for you again] [I was joking, Scarlett, don’t take it seriously] [Not replying to my messages now? That’s real mature] [I’m waiting to pick you up after you’re done. Scarlett, I give up…] Thinking back to the day at the movies, waiting endlessly without a single message from him, I suddenly understood. When he cared about me, he couldn’t bear to miss a single message. He’d watch the chat window all day, just waiting for one reply from me. Julian used to find me annoying and muted my notifications. But he couldn’t bring himself to mute that very active gaming group. No wonder when Lydia messaged him in the group, he could reply instantly. After my bath, I felt a bit awkward. There was only one bedroom with a bed in the apartment. If I broke up with him right now, I’d have nowhere to sleep tonight. Julian seemed even more conflicted than me. He looked at me, opened his mouth, hesitated. His phone rang. It was Lydia calling. He anxiously answered, and the girl’s crying voice came through faintly. After hanging up, he pressed his lips together. “Lydia’s in trouble, right? Don’t waste time—go ahead.” His tense nerves relaxed. “Scarlett, it’s her first car accident. She doesn’t know how to handle it. I’ll just go help out.” “Really, don’t overthink it, please. I’m begging you, okay?” He naturally reached out to hug me. I froze in place, barely stopping myself from pushing him away hard. Fortunately, his mind was entirely on worrying about Lydia. He didn’t notice these small details and left immediately. Before bed, I removed Julian from my pinned conversations. He kept sending messages intermittently. The latest one read: [The hospital won’t let me leave, says I need to be the guardian. I’ll go shopping with you tomorrow…] I didn’t read the rest. I tossed my phone aside and fell asleep.
Julian’s “tomorrow” would never come. After my resignation was smoothly processed, I moved in with my best friend. Late at night, I ordered a bunch of fried chicken, and we curled up on the couch watching a horror movie. Just before the jump scare, I immediately started scrolling on my phone. I saw Lydia’s Instagram post and froze. In the photo, Julian had his sleeves rolled up, offering a peeled apple to a white-haired elderly woman. Lydia was leaning against him. The post’s caption read: [Grandma, I finally found a man who loves me! Look how handsome he is!] What was interesting were the comments below: [If Scarlett finds out Julian is pretending to be Lydia’s boyfriend, won’t she flip out?] [Don’t be jealous, Scarlett—Julian can’t live without you.] These two were his former teammates. They’d always looked down on me, thinking I was too controlling, too old, not good enough for Julian. Julian had let them mock and ridicule me more than once. He always just laughed it off: “They’re just joking. You know I can’t live without you.” Turns out that dismissive comfort had become their inside joke to mock me. “What are you looking at?” Amber tapped my shoulder. Startled, I let her snatch my phone away. She instantly turned red with anger. “Julian, that bastard! I’m going to kill him!” She immediately called Julian. He didn’t answer. “Forget it, forget it. I don’t like him anymore anyway.” I wasn’t heartbroken anymore. My eyes just felt a little sore. Amber sighed and helped me block Julian on both phone and social media. “I just feel like you deserved better.” There was no “deserving” about it. Seeing this relationship clearly now wasn’t too late. Amber’s emotions came and went quickly. When the delivery arrived, she still wanted to play rock-paper-scissors with me to see who’d get the door. “You’re cheating!” I said with a laugh. I pulled open the door, and the smile froze on my face. Outside stood Julian, looking weathered and haggard. I was about to close the door when he braced it open with one hand, his eyes red as he asked hoarsely: “Scarlett, you quit your job secretly and blocked me?”
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