I used to believe Julian and I had a love that could weather any season, sharing both sweetness and hardship. When he bought me that one dollar comb, I would be moved to tears. That was until the day I saw him step out of a luxury sports car, surrounded by an entourage, and walk into a private club. Only then did I realize my three years of devotion were just an elaborate performance, a long con to win over the true object of his obsession, his first love. So when he handed me that cheap comb again, I replied with a calm voice, “Thanks.” Then, I quietly submitted my application for the academic research program. Aurora POV “Professor Hayes, I’ve made up my mind.” My voice was flat. A few seconds of silence hung on the line. “The Pathfinder Project is a fully enclosed research program, requiring a seven-year uninterrupted commitment. Aurora, are you sure? What about your boyfriend…?” “I’m sure,” I cut him off. “I’ve decided to break up with him.” As soon as the words left my lips, the lock turned. I hung up immediately, without a second thought. Julian pushed the door open, saw me putting my phone down, and casually asked, “Who were you chatting with?” “A friend.” I slipped my phone into my pocket. He didn’t seem suspicious. He pulled a small box from his jacket’s inner pocket and handed it to me. It was another wooden comb. The cheap wood reeked of acrid paint, hitting me like a slap. It seemed like these cheap trinkets were all he ever gave me. “Do you like it?” he asked. I took it, opened the box, and glanced inside. “Thanks.” I offered only a calm word of gratitude. Julian’s movements faltered. The old me would have instantly hugged him, my eyes welling up, calling him silly, telling him I worried about him wasting his money. But today, I couldn’t muster any reaction. I just watched him, expressionless. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Nothing,” I said, putting the comb back in its box. “Just… I feel bad about you spending. Aren’t we supposed to be saving up? For a house and our wedding after graduation?” His expression visibly relaxed. He reached out to ruffle my hair, just like he always did, his voice softening. “Got it.” He turned and headed into the bathroom. I heard the shower start a moment later. A few minutes passed before I walked into the bathroom, pretending to get a towel. His clothes lay in the laundry basket, his phone on the sink counter. The screen suddenly lit up. A new message popped up. It was from Tiffany Sinclair. The content was brief: “Thanks for the clover brooch.” A photo was attached below it. My gaze drifted from the phone screen to the small wooden box on the dresser. Inside, the $1 comb lay silently, a stark contrast. Steam filled the bathroom, fogging the mirror. I stared at my blurry reflection, a humorless smile twisting my lips. Actually, I had learned the truth a week ago. That afternoon, I was working my part-time job at a coffee shop. At 3 PM, Julian Vance, who was supposedly working at a used bookstore across town, appeared at the entrance of the private club opposite the coffee shop. A silver-gray sports car pulled up. He stepped out of the driver’s seat. He was wearing a perfectly tailored dark suit, completely unlike the faded, worn-out T-shirts and jeans he usually wore. At the club entrance, people quickly greeted him, surrounding him. I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window on the second floor, watching him disappear inside. Half an hour later, I went downstairs to the breakroom for water. The hallway was quiet, but a few art students were chatting, and I heard every word. “Wasn’t that Julian who just went in? The heir to that huge family?” “Didn’t he always say he was working odd jobs for living expenses?” “Working? Please. That’s called ‘slumming it’ for him. He’s been playing the poor student act for three years, all for Tiffany’s sake.” “Isn’t Tiffany with another guy?” “That’s why he’s copying him. They’re seeing who can endure more by finding someone even poorer and more ‘ordinary.’ Aurora Lee is the perfect example, isn’t she?” Ordinary. I thought of all the gifts he’d given me. Wooden combs, braided bracelets, cheap earrings… All of it combined probably cost less than $300. For three years, we’d shared a cramped and stuffy rental apartment. I always believed it was a love forged in shared struggles and simple joys. But now I knew, it was just a carefully orchestrated, three-year-long performance. A rich kid’s elaborate show, designed to provoke the woman he truly desired. Even more ridiculous, Tiffany and I used to be friends. She always looked at me with a complicated expression, listening to me recount our humble yet sweet daily life, saying I worked too hard. Now I understood. That wasn’t sympathy. It was pity. That winter, the first snow fell. I excitedly called him, wanting him to come out and watch the snow with me, just like we did when we first got together. The phone rang for a long time, unanswered. I stood alone under that old tree, all night long. Snow settled on me. When I went back, I fell ill. For an entire week, he didn’t send a single message or make a single call. After I recovered, for some inexplicable reason, I found myself scrolling through Tiffany’s Ins feed. The latest post was a photo. In the picture, a familiar hand was peeling an orange for her. That hand… I knew it all too well. That faint scar on his ring finger… I’d traced it countless times. The caption was just one line: “Turns out someone still cares for me.” The sound of water in the bathroom stopped. Julian walked out, wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping. I had already returned to my desk, turned off my phone screen, and picked up a book, pretending nothing had happened.
Aurora POV When I came out of the shower, Julian was leaning against the headboard, looking at his phone. Seeing me, he put his phone down, pulled me into his arms, and his kisses were already on my neck. But I felt nothing. The old me would have hugged him back, kissed him passionately. Now, I just felt a little sick. “I’m not feeling so great,” I said. “Don’t really feel like it tonight. Let’s just get some sleep.” He glanced at me, then didn’t press the issue. “Get some rest.” “Mm.” The next morning, I started packing. The couple’s mugs with our initials, sitting on the shelf, went straight into a trash bag. Next were two matching plaid shirts; I didn’t bother folding them, just crumpled them into a ball and shoved them into the bin. The couple’s keychains hanging by the entrance – I took my keys off the table and tossed the clumsy little bear charms away. All the paired items, one by one, I cleared them out. “What are you doing?” Julian frowned, watching me. I looked back at him, my voice flat. “Everything’s old. Time for new things.” With that, I picked up the trash bag and walked out. The door softly closed behind me. I went downstairs to throw out the garbage, and my landlady, Mrs. Davis, called. “Aurora, what’s going on with you and Julian? Why are you suddenly saying you’re moving out?” Her voice was urgent, with the sounds of cooking in the background. “Something came up. We won’t be living here anymore.” I walked under a tree, looking up at the sunlight filtering through the leaves. “Can’t you two just talk things out? Couples argue, it’s normal,” she began to persuade me. “Julian is such a good guy. Remember that popular bakery? The line was so long, but he waited two hours for you, came back drenched in sweat. And your old desk lamp was completely broken, but he fixed it for you, didn’t he? A boyfriend like that is really rare, you should think carefully.” I listened, but didn’t respond. Yes. So good. Good enough to fix a cheap old desk lamp with his own hands, just to make me believe in his sincerity, all part of his act. Waiting in line for two hours? Probably because Tiffany liked that bakery. I couldn’t help but feel ironic. “We’re really over,” I cut her off, my voice firm. “Please handle the move-out process according to the contract. As for the deposit, just follow the standard policy.” With that, I hung up the phone. When I returned to the rental, Julian was already dressed and changing his shoes. Just then, my phone rang. Tiffany’s name flashed on the screen. I answered, putting it on speaker. “Aurora…” Her voice on the other end was tearful. “Mason and I had a fight. I really can’t take it anymore. Can you please come stay with me…?” Julian’s hand, tying his shoelaces, froze. He turned his head, his gaze fixed on my phone, his body unconsciously leaning forward a step. I saw his reaction clearly, and my heart sank. I spoke into the phone, deliberately slowing my pace, softening my voice. “Don’t rush, tell me slowly. What happened? I have a few things to do here, can I come see you this afternoon, okay?” Before I even finished, Julian urgently cut me off. “Go now.” He lowered his voice, but it was laced with urgency and command. Seeing me just look at him, he seemed to realize his lapse, and added, “She’s alone and her emotions are unstable. It wouldn’t be good if something happened. I’ll drive you.” I watched him calmly. Watched the urgency on his face that he hadn’t quite managed to hide, watched his undisguised concern for another woman. “Aren’t you supposed to be working at that used bookstore across town this morning?”
Aurora POV Julian clearly froze. “The store’s doing inventory today, so we’re closed.” His lie tumbled out, so quickly he barely had time to think. He couldn’t meet my eyes. As soon as the words were out, he turned, grabbed the keys from behind the door, and urged, “Come on, let’s go, don’t waste any more time.” He pulled my wrist out the door and onto a creaky old bicycle. I knew he’d bought that bike for fifty bucks from a graduating senior; it was just one of his props for maintaining his ‘poor student’ image. The wind was strong, blowing straight into my collar. Sitting on the back, I clearly saw that in his haste, he’d buttoned the top two buttons of his shirt incorrectly, his collar askew, lending him a look of disheveled absurdity. But he was oblivious, putting all his strength into his legs, pedaling furiously toward Tiffany’s apartment. Bouncing on the bumpy back seat, watching his slightly hunched back, the past three years suddenly flooded my mind. Countless times, he’d done this, using the excuse that “loving me means loving my friends” to drag me along to clean up Tiffany’s messes. Tiffany’s cat got lost, he stayed up all night helping her search; Tiffany’s computer broke, he rushed over in heavy rain to fix it; Tiffany wanted to see a concert, he’d always manage to get two of the best tickets, then bring me along, calling it “accompanying her together.” Each time, he’d offer the most righteous-sounding reasons. “She’s your best friend. If I take care of her a bit more, you’ll be more at ease.” I truly believed him back then, even feeling touched that I had such a considerate boyfriend. But now, sitting on this familiar old bike, feeling his frantic anxiety for another woman, I only found it utterly laughable. Tiffany’s apartment was a mess. She lived in the most luxurious apartment building downtown, her monthly rent more than ten times ours. Right now, in this expensive space, designer bags and clothes were strewn everywhere. Tiffany sat on the costly wool rug, barefoot, her exquisite makeup smeared with tears, crying. Julian, seeing the scene the moment he entered, instantly filled with concern. He completely forgot I was behind him, strode over, knelt down, picked up a slipper nearby, and gently put it on her foot. Then, he pulled out tissues, carefully wiping her tears, his voice lowered, full of coaxing. “There, there, stop crying. Your eyes will get all puffy.” Under his coaxing, Tiffany’s sobs gradually subsided, and she leaned into his shoulder. I stood by the doorway, quietly watching this tender scene, quickly figuring out the cause. She was crying simply because her boyfriend, Mason Stone, wouldn’t buy her the latest limited edition platinum handbag. I saw through it instantly: it was just her usual rich-girl tantrum, her go-to tactic to manipulate her boyfriend. I watched, stone-faced, as Julian pulled out all the stops, from telling lame jokes to brewing herbal tea, to promising to “teach” Mason Stone a lesson, finally managing to make Tiffany laugh through her tears. To make her completely happy, Julian suggested taking her out to sea for a change of scenery. On the private dock’s yacht, as soon as we boarded, a server greeted us with champagne. Tiffany immediately became a princess surrounded by admirers, joyfully soaking in the flattery from Julian’s wealthy friends. “Tiffany, you look stunning today!” “Julian, you’re too good to her! To make you happy, he even booked Mr. Qin’s yacht!” Tiffany’s face bloomed into a radiant smile again, fully enjoying the queen-like treatment Julian had arranged for her. I was squeezed to a corner at the stern of the boat. My foot accidentally caught on a rope, and I nearly fell. I steadied myself, gripping the cold railing, and looked up. Everyone’s focus was on Tiffany and Julian. No one noticed my presence. As evening fell, the yacht sailed into open waters. The wind on deck grew stronger. Tiffany complained about the cold, snuggling into Julian’s arms like a spoiled child. Julian immediately took off his suit jacket and thoughtfully draped it over her. I was also cold. My cold hadn’t completely cleared, so I could only stand a few steps away, quietly pulling my thin jacket tighter. A huge wave suddenly crashed, hitting the side of the boat, splashing a large spray of water. Julian instinctively turned, shielding Tiffany completely with his body, blocking all the splashing seawater. I stood right behind him and was drenched from head to toe. Icy seawater dripped from my hair, soaking my shirt, which clung tightly to my skin. My lingering cold immediately worsened, and I shivered uncontrollably. I looked up and saw Julian looking down at Tiffany with concern, gently asking if she was startled, or if she got wet. From the moment we stepped into Tiffany’s apartment, Julian’s gaze had continuously revolved around her. Not once, not even for a second, had it fallen on me. I was like a ghost, completely invisible in his world.
Aurora POV Night fell. Above the yacht, hundreds of drones ascended, performing a spectacular light show for Tiffany against the night sky. Shimmering, colorful patterns transformed in the air, from roses to dolphins, eliciting gasps of surprise from the deck. Tiffany shrieked with delight, grabbing Julian’s arm excitedly. I knew this was Julian’s arrangement. Finally, the drones formed a giant heart in the night sky. In the middle of the heart was Tiffany’s name. The atmosphere on deck reached a climax, everyone started cheering and catcalling. The light show hadn’t even finished when Tiffany’s phone rang. It was Mason Stone. Her face lit up with a smile as she answered, speaking softly and sweetly into the phone. She ignored Julian’s movements beside her, disregarded him completely, and hurried off the yacht, holding up her skirt. As soon as she left, the group of friends dispersed. The smile Julian had prepared for her froze on his face, then vanished. He irritably grabbed a champagne glass from the table and smashed it onto the deck. He turned around, then noticed I was still standing there. He immediately composed himself, quickly walked over, and pulled me into his embrace. “Pretty, isn’t it?” he asked, referring to the lights in the sky. Over his shoulder, I looked at the fading pattern in the sky, softly hummed in agreement, then pushed him away with little strength. “Make a wish,” I said, looking up at the gradually dispersing drones, breaking the awkward silence. Julian paused, then followed my suggestion, closing his eyes and pressing his palms together. A few seconds later, he opened his eyes and looked at me. “I wish for Aurora and me to be together forever, to graduate smoothly, and to get married smoothly.” I mimicked his posture, closed my eyes, and made a silent wish: I wished that after I left Julian, he and I would never cross paths again, for the rest of our lives.. “What did you wish for?” “If I say it out loud, it won’t come true.” The next day, I went to the university administration and signed the confidentiality agreement for the Pathfinder Project. The day after that, I resigned from my part-time job at the translation company. Just before my shift ended, my supervisor handed me a Manila envelope and asked me to deliver an urgent package to an important client. The address led to a mansion in the hills. I took a bus for over an hour, then walked twenty minutes along a winding mountain road before finding the grand, carved iron gate. I tidied my sweat-dampened collar and pressed the doorbell. A few seconds later, the heavy gate slid silently open. It was Julian who opened the door. He stood there in soft silk loungewear, his hair still damp. This version of him was a stranger, utterly different from the confident man he had been last night and from the guy who wore cheap T shirts every day. When he saw me, his entire body froze.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “352404”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #狼人Werewolf #重生Reborn
Leave a Reply