1 In our seventh year together, a relationship where I was the older partner, Jason suddenly gifted me ten luxury skincare sets. “Why did you buy so much?” I asked, unwrapping the boxes. He reached out, his fingertips pressing against the corner of my eye. “Lacey said you’ve started looking a bit old. I’ve been watching you for days. You have four wrinkles under your left eye, and five under your right.” My hand froze mid-air, a dollop of cream on my fingers. My fingertips slowly turned ice-cold. Jason fell silent for a few seconds. “Don’t overthink it. It’s only normal to have wrinkles at your age. But maybe you should learn a thing or two about style from Lacey. At least you’d look a bit younger.” He unlocked his phone, tapping on his only pinned contact. Lacey’s sweet, giggling voice drifted out of the speaker. “Jason, older women are always sensitive about their age. Be careful how you bring it up to Sylvie.” A suffocating silence filled the room. It took a long time before he spoke again. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, then added, “It might be hard to hear, but it’s the truth.” I looked in the mirror. The woman staring back was well-preserved, only carrying a few more traces of mature grace than she had seven years ago. Seven years ago, he loved my maturity because it gave him a sense of security. Now, he craved a younger girl because she brought him excitement. It was just as well. I had reached an age where I no longer wanted to waste my life on him. I screwed the lid back onto the jar and set it on the vanity. Jason was busy smiling at his phone, catching my movement out of the corner of his eye. “Why aren’t you using them? Lacey recommended these anti-aging products specifically for you.” The word aging pierced my ears. Taking a deep breath, I tried to keep my voice steady. “Jason, how much older than you am I?” His fingers paused over the screen, and he slowly frowned. “You’re older than me anyway. What difference does a few years make?” When we first started dating, he always tried to ignore our age gap to make us feel closer. Now, it was a source of blatant contempt. In the dead silence, his phone chimed. Lacey had sent a video. Without any attempt to hide it, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to his side. “Look at how Lacey dresses.” The girl in the video wore a pastel pink pleated skirt, spinning around gracefully. As the hem flared, Jason smiled, holding down the voice-note button to reply. “A skirt like that suits a twenty-year-old girl like you best. Sylvie is too old for it. She’d look ridiculous.” My hands clenched so hard my fingernails dug white crescents into my palms. Jason didn’t notice, replaying the video over and over. “Jason, are you done watching? Is she that beautiful?” I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “She looks great,” he replied casually, eyes still glued to the screen. “The pleated skirt really flatters her, though she’s missing some jewelry. Sylvie, I remember you have a pastel pink necklace you never wear. Why don’t you give it to Lacey?” My breath caught, and a loud ringing filled my ears. That necklace was the very first gift he bought me with his first paycheck after graduation. It had drained his entire bank account, carrying all the raw, fierce love of his youth. I had been too afraid of ruining it, so I kept it safely tucked away in a velvet box. And now, he wanted me to hand it over, along with the love it represented. “Jason,” I choked out, “that was the first gift you ever gave me. It’s important to me.” “Yeah,” he muttered, completely indifferent. “But you’re thirty-one now. You’re too old for that kind of pastel pink.” His words stung like a physical slap. As I sat there frozen, Jason stood up and began rummaging through my drawers. He tossed jewelry boxes aside until a small velvet ring box tumbled out, clattering onto the floor. The soft thud made him freeze. He bent down, picked it up, and popped it open. “You bought these?” The matching wedding bands caught the light, reflecting a sharp, painful glare. Before I could speak, he snapped the box shut. “Sylvie, I’m still young. Let’s talk about marriage later.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Do you want to talk about it later, or do you just want to marry someone younger?” Two weeks ago, while dry-cleaning his suit, I found a receipt for a custom wedding dress. I thought he was finally ready for a future with me, so I had gone out and ordered these custom rings. Now I realized the wedding dress was never meant for me. His future had no room for me at all. I threw the receipt right at his face. The indifferent mask on his face finally cracked. Just as he opened his mouth to explain, his phone lit up again. We both looked at the screen. The girl who had been wearing the pleated skirt was now wearing a mermaid-style wedding gown, posing in front of a mirror. I snatched his phone and tapped the voice note before he could stop me. “Jason, you lied to me! You said the wedding dress was for Sylvie, but these measurements and style clearly fit me perfectly.” An invisible hand squeezed my heart, suffocating me with sheer pain. Jason grabbed my wrist, frantically trying to explain. “It was just to fulfill a young girl’s fantasy. Sylvie, you’ve always been so understanding…” I stared at the man before me and slowly pulled my hand back. “Jason, you are not the clueless eighteen-year-old boy you were seven years ago. And I don’t think I can be understanding anymore.” He tightened his grip, whispering in a pleading voice, “Sylvie, please don’t be like this.” My heart trembled, washed over by a wave of pure absurdity. Jason used to hate calling me “sister” or using any title that highlighted our age gap. Back then, when I teased him about it, he would pull me into his arms, lock his fingers with mine, and whine, “We’re a couple. I want to be the man you rely on, not some little kid trailing behind you.” Now, he was begging me with that very title, all for the sake of another girl. I bit the inside of my cheek, using the sharp sting of pain to keep my head clear. “Jason, you…” Before I could finish, a sharp, upbeat ringtone cut me off. It was unfamiliar, a custom ringtone he had set specifically for Lacey. He glanced at me and declined the call. But the phone rang again instantly. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he looked utterly panicked. Suddenly, I found the whole thing incredibly exhausting. “Just answer it.” He pursed his lips, turned his back to me, and answered. Lacey’s frantic sobbing echoed through the quiet room. “Jason, I’ve never worn high heels before and I just sprained my ankle. What do I do?” Jason’s back went rigid, his tone turning instantly protective. “I’m coming to get you. Don’t move. Ask the store clerk for some ice first.” He gave her instructions with practiced ease. My fingers shook. For seven years, I had poured my heart and soul into managing our lives, handling every major and minor detail. Whenever I fell ill, I dragged myself to the hospital alone. He had always been the boy who refused to grow up around me. Yet, around someone else, he had become a reliable pillar of strength. He grabbed his coat, stepping toward the door in a rush. “Jason,” I called out. He paused, but didn’t turn around. “Sylvie, she’s young. I can’t leave her like that.” My chest heaved. I closed my eyes. “Okay.” Seven years ago, when his mother passed away and his stepfather kicked him out, I had run through a torrential downpour searching every corner of the city. I finally found him shivering under a bridge. The teenage boy’s eyes were bloodshot as he clutched my coat like a lifeline. “Sylvie, why are you here?” I had taken his freezing hands in mine and sighed. “You’re young, Jason. I couldn’t leave you. Come home with me.” From that day on, our lives were intertwined. Today, his path was finally pulling away from mine, tangling with someone else’s. I sat in the dark for a long time until my phone rang. It was my mother. “Sylvie, have you and Jason talked about getting married yet? You’re thirty-one. How many more years are you going to waste on him? If you ask me, you should come back home. I can set you up on a blind date…” “Okay,” I said, my voice flat. “I’ll do it. Set up the date.” My mother gasped, her tone turning cautious. “Did you two have a fight?” I opened my mouth to reply, but the front door swung open. Jason walked in, looking tense as he carried Lacey in his arms. He walked right past me, carefully placing her on the sofa across from me. Lacey looked at me, a sweet smile plastering her face. “Sylvie. I told Jason to just send me home, but he was so worried he insisted on bringing me here.” My mother’s voice was still crackling through the phone, but I could no longer hear what she was saying. I hung up and stood up. Jason was already rummaging around for the first-aid kit. “Sylvie, where’s the medical kit? Lacey’s ankle needs ice right away.” “We don’t have one,” I said. “Jason, you can take her to the hospital.” He frowned, looking at me with pure annoyance. “She sprained her ankle. How is she supposed to navigate a hospital alone? She’s staying here until she heals. It’s perfect anyway, you’ll have time to look after her.” He demanded it so casually, as if I were nothing but a live-in housekeeper. My knuckles turned white as I clutched my phone. He didn’t notice. He gave me a gentle push. “Come on, Sylvie, find the kit and help Lacey with her ankle.” Then, he scooped Lacey up again and carried her straight into our bedroom. Lying on my bed, Lacey shot me a triumphant smirk. Jason bent over her, gently massaging her ankle. It was a sight that burned my eyes. I couldn’t look at them for another second. Grabbing my phone, I walked out and slammed the door behind me. The sound echoed loudly in the hallway. I stood by the door for a few seconds, waiting. There was no sound of footsteps following me. I looked down, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. I was no longer in his heart, so why would he run after me like he used to? I had walked a long way before my phone finally buzzed. “Sylvie, where did you go?” Before I could type a reply, another notification popped up. It was an audio recording from Lacey. I tapped play. “Jason, did Sylvie leave? It’s really late. Isn’t it dangerous for a woman to be out alone?” Jason’s voice sounded cold, dripping with irritation. “Sure, it’s dangerous for some. But she’s thirty-one. What kind of man would even look at her? She’s a grown woman throwing a tantrum. Does she really think she’s still some runaway kid who’ll have people chasing after her?” My fingers trembled, and my chest seized. A wave of sharp, bitter pain washed over me. The cold rain hit my face, mixing with my tears. I clenched my teeth and played it again. The voice belonged to the man I had loved for seven years, yet he felt like a complete stranger. Lacey’s messages kept coming. “Sylvie, do you feel insecure being with Jason?” “Honestly, when I first saw you two together, I thought you were his stepmom.” “I heard he was only eighteen when you two got together. How shameless do you have to be to seduce an eighteen-year-old kid?” Paragraphs of venomous insults filled the screen. I read every single word, but my mind grew strangely quiet. Seduce him? Seven years ago, I had tried to push him away. Jason, experiencing his first crush, would wait outside my office building every single day after school. Everyone joked that I had a sweet, loyal little brother. He would stay quiet, but once we got home, he would sulk on the couch. Recognizing the shift in his feelings, I had intentionally distanced myself. It was on a rainy night just like this one that he had pushed open my bedroom door, his eyes red. “Sylvie, I don’t want to be your brother.” That night, I laid out all my fears. But he had only one answer: “I don’t want to be your brother.” I couldn’t bear to see him cry. In the end, I relented. But the age gap was always a mountain between us. From the moment I said yes, I had prepared myself for the day we might part. I just never expected it to end like this, right when we were supposed to build a lifetime together. I shut off my phone, hailed a cab, and went to my parents’ house. Seeing the worry in my mother’s eyes, I simply waved her off, saying I was fine, and locked myself in my old room. My phone was dead silent. I didn’t expect Jason to look for me anyway. I took screenshots of all Lacey’s insults and sent them to him. He replied instantly. “She’s just young and foolish. I already talked to her. Sylvie, you’re eleven years older than her. There’s no need to pick a fight with a kid.” I texted back a simple “Okay.” Then, I opened the home security app. On the screen, Lacey was sitting on the sofa I had bought, swinging her legs. Jason sat right beside her, scrolling through TV shows. When a funny scene came on, they laughed together, leaning into each other. I watched them for a long time. But my focus had shifted. How long had it been since Jason sat with me to watch a show? Three years? Four? Whenever I begged him to watch something with me, he would frown and snap, “I don’t like the things you like. Sylvie, there’s a generation gap between us.” I let out a quiet laugh. A generation gap with me, who was six years older, but none with Lacey, who was five years younger? Whether it was a generation gap or a preference for younger skin, I knew the truth all too well. Over the next few days, Jason and I had no contact. The only updates came from Lacey’s social media. The two of them were inseparable. They went dress shopping, took bridal photos, and even toured wedding venues. I would pause at the photos, feel a dull ache, and then calmly swipe past. I thought our silence meant a mutual, unspoken agreement to end things. Until Jason showed up at my parents’ door, with Lacey in tow. “Sylvie, I’ve come to take you home,” he said, his expression as warm and gentle as it had always been. My fingers twitched. I looked at the two of them. “Jason, we’re over.” He frowned, instinctively arguing, “How is that possible? I would never leave you.” Lacey’s face contorted for a fraction of a second, but she quickly forced another sweet smile. “Sylvie, you must have misunderstood. Jason has been with you for so many years. He took all your best years. He’d never just abandon his responsibility to you.” A twenty-year-old girl’s words were always laced with poison, her intentions clear as day. I unlocked my phone and pulled up her social media page. “Aren’t you two getting married? I should be wishing you a happy wedding.” Jason glanced at the screen, completely unfazed. “Lacey was just testing everything out for you. We’ve gone through the whole process, so all you have to do is follow the plan we put together.” Lacey slipped her arm through mine, squeezing hard enough to hurt. The pain flared up my arm, but I didn’t let my expression waver. “So, Jason, you’re saying you two already had the wedding ceremony?” His brow furrowed, and he gave a hesitant nod. “I just thought your taste was a bit dated, so I asked Lacey to help. Sylvie, don’t overthink this.” He stepped closer, reaching for my hand. “You stayed away from home because I said I didn’t want to get married, right? But Lacey took me through the whole experience, and I think marriage might actually be nice. So…” Before he could finish, a sharp slap echoed through the hallway. My hand shook violently, the emotions I had bottled up for days finally exploding. “You make me sick.” “Do you really think I don’t know what you two have been doing?” I pulled out my phone, scrolling through the security camera screenshots one by one. The two of them kissing, touching, and crossing every line in the home we used to share. And now, he had the nerve to stand in front of me with a straight face. It was disgusting. My stomach turned. Clutching my abdomen, I spoke in a voice as cold as ice. “Get out. I don’t ever want to see either of you again.” Jason pressed his tongue against his cheek, the gentle, boyish charm instantly vanishing from his face. “Sylvie, you’re thirty-one. Don’t you know when to just let things go? I’m offering you a marriage. As long as you keep one eye shut after we’re married, we can go back to how things were. What good does it do to blow everything up? Do you honestly think anyone else is going to want you at your age?” The sudden shift in his attitude left me stunned. Looking at him now, he felt entirely like a stranger. He was rotten, decayed to the very core. I stood tall, meeting his gaze. “Jason, I don’t want you anymore.” He stared at me, then let out a scoff. Reaching out, he pulled Lacey close against his chest. “If I leave you, I can easily find a girl like Lacey. But you’ll never find another man like me. Sylvie, I suggest you think about this carefully.” A wave of nausea hit me so hard that I bent over, dry-heaving. Jason’s face darkened instantly. He lunged forward, grabbing my arm roughly. “Sylvie, you…” Before he could yank me, a figure stepped in, tearing his hand away and shielding me. A calm, steady voice cut through the air. “Hello, Jason. I am Sylvie’s blind date. And, I believe, a much better option.”
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