After seven years of dating, my boyfriend, Steven Clark, finally proposed to me. I came back to the office early, hoping to surprise him. Instead, I overheard him on the phone with his first love, Rebecca. “Rebecca, if you come back, you’ll always be my bride.” My mind went blank, and my limbs turned to ice. So, our wedding was just his ploy to force his first love to return home. I walked into my home and spotted the matching couple’s mugs on the table. Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks. It turned out the wedding I was so looking forward to was just Steven’s way of getting back at Rebecca. We’d been together for seven years, and I was the one who chased him. I still remembered that day I was crossing the street when a car came speeding out of nowhere. I was about to be hit when Steven pulled me out of the way. That afternoon, my heart raced whenever I thought of him. When I found out he had just broken up with his girlfriend, I went after him with everything I had. Every day, I came up with new recipes to pack in his lunch box. When his startup hit a rough patch, I did everything I could to cheer him up. I even secretly used my dad’s connections to help him land his first investment. He was in high spirits that night, and he drank a lot. He held me close and asked me with deep affection if I wanted to give it a shot with him. There were no grand declarations of love, no flowers. That was just how we began our story. The early days of the company were incredibly tough. I quit my job to take care of his daily needs and meals. It took a full five years before the company finally started showing signs of success. He got down on one knee and proposed to me at the company’s anniversary celebration. I thought my dedication had finally paid off. Little did I know it was all just a ploy to make Rebecca jealous. My seven years of devotion were nothing but a joke to him. When he made that promise to Rebecca, I became nothing more than a disposable pawn in his game. I had personally designed the pattern on those matching couple mugs, but he’d never used his, claiming they were too childish. The conversation I’d overheard at the office earlier today set my nerves on edge, so I threw the pair of mugs straight into the trash. Steven hadn’t come home even as evening turned to night. After stepping out of the shower, I noticed a message from an unknown number: [Thank you for taking such good care of him all these years.] The message included a photo showing a woman’s profile. I’d seen that face countless times before in Steven’s phone gallery. Even after we got together, he couldn’t bring himself to delete her photos. He just secretly transferred them to his backup phone. As I looked at the figure in the top right corner of the picture, my fingertip trembled as I zoomed in. The photo enlarged, and a tear fell onto the screen. Steven, who hadn’t set foot in the kitchen during our seven years together, was now wearing an apron and cooking for her. So, this was why he hadn’t come home yet. He was busy entertaining his first love, who’d just returned from abroad. I was supposed to be his girlfriend. We were practically engaged! How could he do this to me? I wiped away my tears and dialed his number with trembling hands. The phone rang for what felt like forever before he picked up. “What do you want?” Steven snapped impatiently, and his words cut through my heart. Before I could speak, I heard a woman’s voice in the background. “I’m working late. I have to go!” he rushed to say. He hung up quickly as if trying to hide something. I sneered and collapsed onto the sofa, feeling utterly drained. Tears streamed down my face. Steven finally came home at one o’clock in the morning. He walked through the door humming a happy tune as he took off his shoes, clearly in a great mood. But when he looked up and saw me, the smile vanished from his face. He frowned and growled, “What are you trying to do, sitting here in the dark? Give someone a heart attack?”
He’d had a few drinks and stumbled into the bathroom. A moment later, he burst out, yelling, “Where are my clothes?” I always used to have his bathwater ready and his clothes laid out for him before he got home from work. Over time, he just started taking it for granted that it was my job. I looked at him coldly. “You didn’t tell me what time you’d be back.” His eyes darted around, but he quickly regained his composure. “Didn’t I tell you on the phone? I said I was working late! Are you blaming me now? If it weren’t for me working my ass off, you’d be out on the streets!” I couldn’t believe Steven would say something like that. Was it the alcohol talking, or had he always felt that way? Steven didn’t seem to notice my reaction and went grumbling back to the bedroom to get his pajamas. I listened to the sound of the shower running and felt a knot in my stomach. After about ten minutes, Steven came out of the bathroom. He walked straight past me into the bedroom. I followed him in and saw that his hair was still dripping wet. But he didn’t seem to care. He was sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone. I walked over with the hairdryer, wanting to dry his hair like I always did. But as soon as I touched his hair, he shoved me away. He looked at me defensively and demanded, “What are you doing?” I sat down on the floor, watching him nervously clutch his phone to his chest. Suddenly, everything clicked. He was chatting with Rebecca Ellison! That was why he was so scared of me seeing it. I laughed, and tears involuntarily streamed down my face. Steven looked at me with an irritated expression and accused me. “You scared the hell out of me by sneaking up like that! It’s not like I did it on purpose. Why are you crying?” He continued, “You’re not a kid anymore. Get up yourself!” His expression shifted when he saw the hairdryer in my hand. He reached out to help me up, but I had already wiped away my tears and stood up. I thrust the hairdryer into his hand and walked to the other side of the bed, lying down with my back to him. Steven dried his hair and hugged me from behind. “Caroline, I didn’t mean it. Please don’t be mad.” In the seven years we’ve been together, Steven has rarely had to coax me. Usually, I would have already turned around and hugged him with a smile. But the scene from the photo lingered in my mind. If I hadn’t heard his words with my ears, how long would he have kept it from me? Disgusted, I remained silent. “Please forgive me, okay? I promise it won’t happen again.” I took a deep breath to suppress my emotions, turned around, and asked him, “Are you hiding something from me?” A forced smile flickered across Steven’s face. “No way, you should get some sleep. Don’t be so paranoid all the time.” He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead. I looked away, feeling disappointed, and reminded him, “Dad invited us over for dinner tonight. Don’t forget.” Steven just mumbled a response, seemingly distracted. His phone pinged, and he snatched it up, quickly turning his back to me.
The tapping of his fingers on his phone screen was a constant rhythm in the quiet room. Now and then, a low chuckle would escape his lips, and I knew, without a doubt, that he was messaging Rebecca again. Finally, he threw back the covers and got out of bed. “Caroline, I’ve got to take this work call on the balcony. Go ahead and sleep,” he said. I closed my eyes and sneered inwardly, not bothering to call him out on his lie. When I couldn’t reach Steven the next day, a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. As if to confirm my suspicions, a stranger suddenly followed me on Instagram. Her profile picture looked familiar, matching the one Steven had changed to last night. They were a couple’s set. My gut told me this was Rebecca. Why was she following me? I accepted her request and saw a photo in her profile posted just half an hour ago. It showed two hands intertwined. The caption read: [In fairy tales, the prince always sees through the witch disguised as a princess and ends up with the real princess!] I stared at the picture, and tears blurred my vision. The last shred of hope I held for Steven shattered. His choice between Rebecca and me was crystal clear. Or maybe he never really chose me in the first place. Someone who didn’t love you would never take your words to heart. I wiped away my tears and took a taxi home alone. My dad, Michael Jones, saw me come back by myself and asked with a worried frown, “Caroline, why are you back alone? Where’s Steven?” He got closer and saw my red and swollen eyes. His face was immediately filled with anger. “Why are you crying like this? Did that jerk do something to you?” He fumed. “I’ll go to teach him a lesson right now!” I hugged Michael and cried. “Dad, I regret it. I want to break up with him!” Michael patted my head and comforted me, then cursed Steven out. Once I calmed down a bit, I said, “Dad, about the shares in Steven’s company… could you pull them out in a few days?” Steven’s company had just started to take off. If Michael withdrew his investment now, it would be a devastating blow to him. Michael felt awful and immediately wanted to find Steven to settle the score. I stopped him. “No, Dad. I need to settle this with him myself.” To keep Michael from worrying too much, I ate dinner and then headed back to my place. I promised to call him when I was packed and ready for him to pick me up. After seven years together, my belongings were pathetically few. Once I’d packed my clothes from the closet, there seemed to be nothing else worth taking. I stared at the photo of Steven and me on the nightstand. It was from my birthday three years ago, and I had to beg him forever to take it with me. It was also the only photo we had taken together in seven years. I picked up the frame. In the picture, I was clinging to Steven’s arm with a blissful smile while he stood beside me with an impatient look, not even glancing at the camera. I used to think he was just shy and introverted, always putting on a cold front. But now, I finally realized the truth. It seemed like his eyes never held any love for me. He was only with me because I was easygoing and undemanding, someone who could fill the void left by Rebecca. And now that Rebecca was back, I was just a clown, forced to make a pathetic exit. Thinking about all those memories, I felt a pang of sadness. I tossed the photo, once my most treasured possession, into the trash can. It was like throwing away the part of me that had loved Steven so humbly. Dragging my suitcase, I sat down on the living room sofa, waiting for Steven to come home so I could break up with him. I waited until eight o’clock in the evening when I finally heard laughter and chatter at the door. The door opened and in walked Steven, suitcase in hand, with Rebecca right behind him. The smiles on their faces vanished when they saw me. Steven, clearly not expecting me to be home, quickly removed his arm from around Rebecca’s waist. “Caroline! I thought you went home for the day. When did you get back?” I scoffed internally. So, he did remember he was supposed to go with me to see Michael. I turned my attention to Rebecca. It was the first time I’d seen her in person. Just like in her photos, she had those captivating eyes, but right now, they were fixed on me with a mocking glint. She didn’t flinch under my scrutiny, even flashing me a defiant smirk. Steven, noticing that I was staring at Rebecca instead of answering him, stepped forward to block my view as if he was afraid that I might scare her. “Caroline, this is Rebecca Ellison, my college classmate. She just got back to the country and needs a place to stay for a while, so she’ll be staying with us.” I looked at the two of them and let out a sneer. Even now, Steven couldn’t bring himself to tell me the truth. Seeing my silence, Rebecca tugged at Steven’s sleeve. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all,” she said, “I can just get a hotel.” Steven glared at me and snapped, “Caroline, this is my house! I brought Rebecca back to let you know, not to discuss it with you!” He then turned to Rebecca and said softly, “Don’t mind her. It’s not safe for a girl to live alone outside, and I’m worried about you.” I watched them, oblivious to my presence and wholly absorbed in each other. My nails dug into my palms. How could someone be so two-faced? Last year, we went on a camping trip in the mountains with his friends. Just because I bought the wrong seasoning, he left me alone in the wilderness and drove back by himself. It rained heavily on the way back, and I didn’t have an umbrella. I walked for more than three hours with a flashlight before I reached the city. When I got home, he had just finished showering. He looked at my drenched and miserable state with disgust. “How could you be so stupid? Didn’t you know to take a taxi? You’re filthy!” He added, “It’s good for you to suffer a bit. Maybe you’ll learn your lesson!” I was speechless. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to take a taxi. It was that I couldn’t get one. No driver wanted to take a trip to the suburbs in such heavy rain. Yet, he had a completely different attitude when it came to Rebecca. He was so careful and considerate towards her that anyone who didn’t know better would think she was his girlfriend. This time, I finally saw Steven’s true colors. I stood up with a smile and clapped my hands. “Of course, I agree. Why wouldn’t I?” Steven frowned, clearly not expecting me to agree so readily. His eyes suddenly landed on the suitcase beside me, and his expression hardened. “Where do you think you’re going with that suitcase so late at night?” he demanded. “I’m moving out to give you two some space,” I replied calmly. I reached for the suitcase, but before I could grab it, Steven stepped forward and kicked it across the floor. His face was contorted with rage. “You’re moving out just because I didn’t come home for dinner tonight, huh? Can you grow up a little? I honestly don’t understand what you’re trying to pull!” Rebecca rushed over and grabbed his arm. Her voice was soothing. “Alright, calm down. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have called you today.” I watched Rebecca’s performance in silence. They really were a match made in heaven. He was quick to anger, and she was a master of playing the victim. As Steven turned to comfort Rebecca and wipe away her crocodile tears, I bent down and picked up my suitcase. “Let’s break up,” I said, and my voice was firm.
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