Tristan Cole, who insisted he would never marry, gave me a diamond ring on our eighth anniversary. I thought he’d finally changed his mind and wanted to marry me. Just as I was about to excitedly post it on Instagram, I saw a post his assistant Willow Reed had made one minute earlier. The caption read: Thanks to my boss for buying an eleven-carat pink diamond and having it made into a ring for me. Best boss in the world! The leftover scraps can go to the garbage collector. In the photo, Willow was sweetly leaning on Tristan’s shoulder. I looked down at the less-than-one-carat diamond on my finger. That’s when I realized—what I thought was a treasure was just someone else’s trash. I rushed to the restaurant where Willow was and caught them embracing, about to leave. Tristan frowned and snapped at me impatiently, “Can you stop being so paranoid? I’m just having dinner with an employee and you have to spy on me? Don’t you understand that men need their space?” If this were before, I would’ve argued with him until he came home with me immediately. But now, I just threw the ring at his face. “Fine. You’re completely free now.”
The ring left a bloody scratch on Tristan’s face before rolling to Willow’s feet. Tristan touched the cut on his face and let out a cold laugh. “Victoria, have I been too lenient with you? I give you a ring and you throw it back in my face? Let me tell you, if you don’t want it, plenty of people are begging for it. Don’t be ungrateful.” Willow gasped and picked up the ring from the floor. “Victoria, this was a gift from Tristan’s heart. How could you just throw it away like that?” Though her words sounded regretful, the disgust in her expression was impossible to hide. She even deliberately waved the hand wearing her massive diamond, as if afraid I wouldn’t notice. My tiny diamond looked even more pathetic next to hers. Facing her blatant provocation, I no longer felt the urge to fight with her like I used to. “Sorry, I don’t have a habit of collecting garbage. I can’t accept this ring.” Tristan stared at me, then suddenly smiled with a knowing look. “You’re jealous, aren’t you? It’s time you got over this petty habit. Willow just landed a major deal for the company. This is just a gift to reward her. You stay home doing nothing all day—do you deserve to wear something that big? You should be grateful for what you get.” Listening to his accusations, I felt like laughing. He seemed to have forgotten that eight years ago when he was just starting his business, I was the one drinking at corporate events until I had a bleeding ulcer, securing deal after deal, helping the company get on track. He was also the one who later held me and said we were both too busy with work and the house felt cold without warmth. So I left the company to focus on being the woman behind him, managing everything at home. Now it had become his ammunition to belittle me. “I don’t need your charity.” Seeing my attitude unchanged, Tristan laughed bitterly. “Fine. If you don’t want it, don’t come begging me later.” With that, he snatched the ring from Willow’s hand and hurled it away. Along with my eight years of devotion and love, it disappeared into the darkness. Tristan put his arm around Willow and drove off. When I got home, the table still held the cake and candlelight dinner I’d prepared for our eighth anniversary. I had planned to celebrate our eighth year together with Tristan tonight, but now it seemed pointless. I took a bite of cake. Being left out at room temperature had made the frosting sticky and the taste sour. I grimaced and spit it out, then dumped everything on the table into the trash. There’s no point forcing yourself to eat spoiled food. The same goes for spoiled love.
That evening, Tristan came home at seven for once, right when he got off work. I was just finishing an interview with a company abroad when he walked in. The hiring manager was very pleased with my performance and scheduled me to fly over and start next week. “Next week? Do you have something going on next week?” I calmly closed my laptop and lied without missing a beat. “Nothing much. Just meeting a friend for dinner.” Tristan nodded without comment and draped his coat over a chair. When he noticed the cake in the trash, he raised an eyebrow. “Still upset? Is this really worth it? You scratched my face and I didn’t keep making a fuss about it. Why are you being so unreasonable?” I replied calmly, “I’m not upset.” Tristan scoffed, clearly not believing me. “Not upset but you threw away the whole cake? I don’t know why someone pushing thirty still has such a sweet tooth like a little girl. It’s not even a special occasion and you bought a cake. I think you—” Before he could finish, his eyes landed on the number 8 candle in the trash and he froze. He stared at it for a moment, then looked up at me hesitantly. “Today is… our eighth anniversary?” I’d originally thought the ring was a surprise Tristan had deliberately chosen to give me on our anniversary. But he’d just carelessly given me something Willow didn’t want. He didn’t even remember what day it was. Tristan guiltily touched his nose, his tone softening as he moved closer to me. “Victoria, I’ve been so busy with work I forgot. The ring Willow has was just a reward for landing that big deal, nothing more. It’s good that ring is gone anyway. I’ll take you to buy a bigger one another day.” Over the years, Tristan had mastered this technique—insult then give a treat. Like training a dog, keeping me firmly under his control. But this trick only works on people still immersed in love. A shattered heart can’t be stirred anymore. I turned my head to avoid his touch. “No need. You’re busy. Work is important.” Tristan’s body stiffened, his expression somewhat displeased, but he said nothing and handed me a box from behind him. “Alright, Willow was worried you were upset, so she specially sent this to apologize. It’s one she’s been reluctant to wear herself. Try it and see if you like it.” He opened the box to reveal a lotus-shaped necklace. Most of the small diamonds on the petals had already fallen off. I glanced at it once and threw it back at him in disgust. “I’ll say it again—I don’t collect garbage.” An hour ago, Willow had posted a new gemstone necklace on her feed. Hehe, traded some junk from the bottom of my drawer for a new necklace. Long live the boss! Being rejected by me again and again, Tristan finally lost his patience. “Victoria, my patience has limits! Do you have to make things difficult for a young woman? Willow is a manager now. She’s so busy every day but still considers your feelings. Can’t you learn from her and stop making me angry?” The “young woman” Tristan referred to was actually only two years younger than me. But in his eyes, Willow was an innocent, highly capable young woman. As for me, his words dripped with disdain. He probably thought I was just a frumpy housewife doing nothing at home all day. The figure who fought alongside him during the startup days had probably long vanished from his memory.
In the past, I would have argued endlessly to prove I wasn’t as useless as he claimed. But now I’d lost all desire to communicate with him and just wanted to go back to the bedroom and rest. I nodded perfunctorily. “I understand. She’s a hero. She deserves rewards. I’m not making things difficult for her. I just don’t like wearing necklaces.” Tristan studied my expression carefully. Seeing that I genuinely didn’t seem angry, he was somewhat surprised and took a while before speaking. “That’s good. I’m already exhausted from work every day. I don’t want to come home and argue with you. It’s best if you can figure it out yourself.” After speaking, his tone shifted and he looked at me with a strange expression. “You didn’t think I was proposing when I gave you that ring, did you? And then got so angry at lunch because you realized you’d misunderstood?” I didn’t answer, but he took my silence as confirmation. His expression immediately turned impatient. He tugged at his tie, his voice irritated. “I’ve told you so many times—I don’t believe in marriage and I won’t get married! Don’t you understand plain English? You got your hopes up on your own. Who else can you blame? And then you gave me attitude.” Hearing those four words, my expression grew distant. I remembered when we first started dating, Tristan told me he didn’t believe in marriage. I had struggled with whether to break up with him. But back then he’d just started his business and had to split every dollar in half. Even under such tight financial constraints, he still gave me a gold ring for my birthday. He said that although he didn’t believe in marriage, he promised me he would only give a ring to me in this lifetime. The thin gold ring on my finger made me feel his heavy love. Back then I naively thought, with a love like this, what difference did it make whether we married or not? Besides, what if he changed his mind one day and wanted to get married? Wouldn’t that be even better? So I threw myself in wholeheartedly and continued walking with him. Until today, eight years later. That ring had made me think that eight years of being together had changed his view on marriage and he was ready to walk down the aisle with me. I never imagined it was just someone else’s unwanted trash. Thinking back now, though the startup days were hard, they were our sweetest time. Two people relying on each other squeezed onto a twin bed, with two hearts pressed tightly together. But I don’t know when Tristan started getting impatient with me, belittling me at will. When I quit my job? When the company went public? When Willow joined the company? I couldn’t remember. I only remembered telling myself over and over that he wasn’t like this before. Trying to deceive myself with expired love. Until those two rings shattered all the false filters. Showing me plainly that he’d long forgotten the promise from eight years ago. He was no longer the Tristan from eight years ago. Now, cutting my losses was the best choice.
I sighed, feeling utterly exhausted. “You don’t need to keep emphasizing it. I’m very clear.” Tristan was about to say something when there was a knock—my food delivery had arrived. I stopped talking and opened the package to start eating. Tristan frowned and watched for a while before speaking. “You’re eating that?” “Whatever. Today is our eighth anniversary after all. I won’t argue with you. Throw away the takeout and I’ll cook for you myself.” I hadn’t eaten anything from noon until now. My stomach was starving and I just wanted to fill it quickly. I didn’t have time to wait for him to cook. “This is fine. You don’t have to—” Before I could finish, Tristan reached out to snatch it away. “I said throw it out!” I instinctively protected it with my hand. In the struggle, the takeout container was knocked to the floor. The scalding hot soup spilled onto the back of my hand, instantly raising blisters. Searing pain shot through my hand, and tears involuntarily welled up in my eyes. Tristan looked somewhat panicked. “I didn’t mean to. I’ll take you to the hospital right now.” With that, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door. I was about to say I could go myself when his phone rang. The screen clearly displayed “Willow.” “Tristan, someone’s knocking on my door. I’m so scared!” Hearing Willow’s panicked voice, Tristan immediately tensed up. “Don’t open the door. I’ll be right there.” Tristan’s eyes swept over me, his expression struggling. While he was on the phone, I’d already called a ride on the app. “You go. It’s not safe for a young woman to live alone. As her boss, you have a responsibility to protect her safety.” Tristan let out a relieved sigh. “I’m glad you understand. I’ll come to the hospital to pick you up once I’ve taken care of Willow’s situation.” By the time I’d gotten my burn treated at the hospital, it was already late at night. I checked the ride app—no one was accepting orders, and there were no taxis passing by on the road. I had no choice but to open our chat and message Tristan, asking when he could come get me. This time he replied unusually quickly. “Right away.” So I sat on the flowerbed by the hospital entrance and waited. Half an hour passed. An hour passed. Still no sign of him. By now my empty stomach was also protesting. I could only bend over to make myself feel better. I opened our chat again, wanting to ask Tristan where exactly he was, but accidentally clicked into my feed instead. Willow had just updated her feed an hour ago. The photo was pitch black, but you could vaguely make out a man’s chiseled jawline. The caption read: My boss said he was worried about me being home alone tonight and specially stayed to sleep with me. How can there be such a good boss in the world! I laughed bitterly at myself. How foolish of me to place my hopes again on someone who’d broken his word countless times. I moved my finger and liked the post, commenting below. “Boss and assistant—a match made in heaven.” When I refreshed, the post had been deleted. Willow sent me a message. “Sorry Victoria, I forgot to block you. Tristan is just worried about me so he’s sleeping over. Nothing happened between us. Please don’t be angry with him.” I’d experienced this kind of manipulation too many times over the years. She probably thought I’d do what I always did before—immediately call Tristan and have a huge fight with him, demanding he come home right away. But this time, I just blocked her and continued trying to get a ride. I no longer cared whether Tristan had done anything with her or not.
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