After hinting and overtly suggesting it to Chad for the ninety-ninth time, I finally found a delicate ring box in his jacket pocket. He looked a little dazed as he saw my beaming face. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but if you’re free this weekend, how about we invite your parents out for dinner?” I thought this was it – the proposal. That Saturday, I invited my parents and a few close friends. I had my hair and makeup professionally done, wanting to look my best and capture the moment of a lifetime. But he never showed up. Then, Tiffany, his 'angel' he couldn't let go of, updated her social media. “Spoiled princess and her devoted prince.” The accompanying picture showed two hands, intertwined, wearing matching rings. In that moment, I felt no anger, no sadness. Only exhaustion. Our love, it ends here. When I found the ring box in his pocket, my heart pounded like a war drum. My earlier feelings of hurt and frustration vanished, replaced by a clear, summer-sky happiness. Chad’s gaze flickered from the ring box in my hand to my face, bright as a sunlit morning after the rain. He finally said the words I’d yearned for. I truly believed our seven-year marathon of love was finally reaching its joyful finish line. I spent the following days counting down, too excited to sleep at night. On the day I’d dreamed of, I wore a custom-made dress and spent hours perfecting an intricate hairstyle. My parents and friends teased me, “Never seen anyone so eager to tie the knot!” I wasn’t just eager to marry; I was eager to marry Chad, to give our years of love a proper culmination. But fate had other plans. Chad never showed up, nor did he call, until the restaurant closed. Just as I’d feared. The other shoe, which had been hanging in the air all day, finally dropped. This wasn’t the first time he’d ditched me for Tiffany. I’d lost count. On my birthday, he had to buy medicine for Tiffany’s cramps. On our anniversary, he brought Tiffany home, claiming her toilet was blocked and she had nowhere to stay. Even when I got acute gastroenteritis, he prioritized taking Tiffany’s dog to the vet. Again and again, I felt like I’d turned into a doormat, but truthfully, I just couldn’t bear to let go of the seven years and the prime of my youth we’d shared. I placated my parents, who were seething, and watched the pouring rain outside. Finally, I felt a sense of release. It was time to let go. Somewhere along the way, my words stopped reaching him, my efforts went unnoticed, my emotions were irrelevant to him. We seemed to have nothing left to say. My phone rang. It was Chad, his voice irritable and impatient. “Why aren’t you home so late? If you don’t come back, I’m locking the door!” I sighed. That familiar, inexplicable weariness resurfaced. “Chad, you invited my parents for dinner tonight…” I heard his breath hitch on the other end. After a long silence, his voice came, tentative. “So, are your parents… still there?” Before I could answer, he blurted out, “Riley, can you hold on? I have an important call coming in. Can I call you back in a bit?” He sounded urgent. He hung up before I could reply. I no longer cared whether he truly had another call or if it was just an excuse to escape. Staring at my dead phone, I walked into the rain, letting the downpour drench my expensive dress. The hairstyle that took five hours was plastered to my forehead. Suddenly, I remembered a scene from right after college, when Chad and I waited for the bus in the rain to save cab fare. He had tilted his only umbrella completely over my head. That night, back home with a fever from the rain, he sneezed and mused, “Someday, when I’m rich, I’ll buy a car. I’ll pick you up in all weather, my baby, so you’ll never get a single drop of rain on you again.” I couldn’t tell if it was rain or tears blurring my vision. A cab pulled up beside me. The driver was a kind-looking woman. “Hop in, honey! This ride’s on me!” She was talkative, trying hard to engage me in conversation. As I paid and got out, she called out to me again. “Listen, sweetheart, there’s nothing you can’t get through. Money can be earned back, and men can be replaced. Don’t ever let yourself be miserable.” It dawned on me. She was worried I might be having dark thoughts. I waved gratefully at her. Yes, from now on, I wouldn’t compromise myself again. Before bed, I scrolled through my phone. Tiffany, Chad’s 'angel,' had updated her social media. “The princess just couldn’t sleep, so her prince came specifically to sing her to slumber.” The video showed Chad’s profile, gently humming a beautiful melody. Chad had a great voice; he sang really well. When I was down, I used to jokingly ask him to sing for me. What did he say back then? “I’m not a professional singer. If you want to listen, just search online for a song.” Looking back on our seven years together, Chad truly didn’t have much patience for me. I blacklisted both Tiffany and Chad. In a strange way, I suppose it was my own twisted blessing for them to be together. I woke up the next morning to Chad sleeping soundly beside me. Perhaps it was a change in my mindset, but the side profile that once captivated me now looked utterly bland. I quickly got up, showered, and ran downstairs to buy breakfast. By the time Chad woke up, my breakfast was nearly finished. He sat at the table, expecting me to bring him his breakfast, just as I had done countless mornings before. But I simply washed my plate and walked past him. “Where’s my breakfast?” I turned back to him, expressionless. “Starting today, let’s just buy our own breakfast. You always said what I made didn’t suit your taste anyway.” Chad was a picky eater. To cater to him, I used to wake up early, making him different healthy porridges every day. But he would always frown, complaining it was too hot or tasteless. Now, having thought it through, wouldn’t that time be better spent sleeping in a bit or going for a morning run? I expected him to get angry, but instead, he paused, then grabbed my arm. “Riley, yesterday was just too busy with work. I honestly forgot about the dinner with your parents…” Even now, he was still lying and making excuses, but I was tired of deceiving myself and playing along with his pathetic charade. “Was it really just work?” My question hit a nerve. “Riley, what are you implying? You don’t believe me? What do you think I was doing, then?” He was about to say more, but I impatiently pulled up a screenshot of Tiffany’s social media post from yesterday. “You didn’t think I’d recognize you just because your face wasn’t showing, did you?” Chad had a red mole on the back of his right hand. I had one in the same spot on my left hand. I used to be proud of it, thinking we were meant to be. Chad’s self-righteousness instantly evaporated. “Yesterday was Tiffany’s birthday. She doesn’t have many friends in this city, so I just went to celebrate with her.” “Last night, I was actually on my way to pick you up, but Tiffany called, saying she thought there was an intruder in her house…” I pulled my arm away and nodded indifferently. “Right. Of course.” He froze, a flicker of shock in his eyes. He’d probably prepared a whole speech for my tears and arguments, but I hadn’t played by his rules. “My bad, I didn’t manage my time well. I’ll definitely take you to see your parents this weekend.” I casually applied some lipstick, saying, “We’ll see.” His expression softened slightly, as if offering a hesitant apology. He awkwardly suggested, “I have a college reunion today. Want to come along?” In the past, I would have gladly said yes, then spent ages getting ready to go with him. I always believed that loving someone meant integrating into their world. But he used to dislike it and never took me to his friends’ gatherings. I’d once complained. “Why would you go? You don’t know them.” Yet, I’d seen him bring Tiffany to friend gatherings more than once on her social media. “No, thanks. I don’t know them. Besides, my company has a team-building event today.” I used to cling to him whenever I had a moment, so much so that after years of working, I rarely attended company team-building events. My world used to revolve solely around him. His world, however, included games, sports, friends, and his 'angel,' Tiffany. Now, I wanted to break free from that enclosed world and see the excitement outside. My repeated, nonchalant rejections of his meek attempts to reconcile finally pushed Chad’s patience to its limit. “Go or don’t go, whatever!” He slammed the door shut, and I calmly changed into a pretty dress. My mood was exceptionally good now that I no longer cared about his temper. But I never expected that my company’s team-building location would be the same as his reunion. After using the restroom, I passed a private dining room and, by sheer coincidence, saw Chad. His close friends were teasing him. “Chad, how come your girlfriend isn’t calling or texting you constantly this time? Did you guys have a fight?” Chad had a sensitive stomach, but his buddies always pushed him to drink. I used to constantly text him to take it easy whenever he was out. “So what if we fought? She’s almost thirty, not eighteen or nineteen. She wouldn’t dare break up with me, would she?” Someone chimed in, “Yeah, she’s become an old hag. Who’d want her if she left you?” “Chad, if you ask me, you’re too responsible. Otherwise, you’d have dumped her years ago and been with Tiffany.” Chad rubbed his temples, looking quite annoyed. “She’s hinted and suggested it so many times. It’s annoying…” So, he knew I wanted to get married. He just pretended not to, dodging the topic. I shook my head, about to leave, when Tiffany’s voice came from behind me. “Riley, did you follow him all the way here? You really keep a tight leash on Chad.” She said this as she pushed open the door to the private room. Everyone inside turned to stare at me. Chad’s friends exchanged glances, as if to say, “See? She followed him again.” Chad’s eyes held an unreadable expression. He leaned back on the sofa as if nothing was amiss, utterly confident. “This morning you were all high and mighty saying you wouldn’t come, but turns out you wanted to sneak around and spy!” “Since you’re here, come in and say hello properly. Why act so timid and petty?” I didn’t want to respond, but then I remembered past grievances. No matter what, I had to settle the score tonight. After Tiffany returned, she excitedly got everyone to play a drinking game: whoever lost had to drink as a penalty. I knew she was deliberately trying to ignore me and make me uncomfortable, but I just browsed on my phone, keeping an eye on their movements, feeling perfectly at ease. Suddenly, their table erupted in shouts again. Tiffany had lost. Annoyed, she leaned against Chad, rubbing her temples. “Chad, I feel so dizzy, I think I’ve had too much. Can you help me out?” Chad had probably drunk a lot that evening. Now, hearing Tiffany, he frowned at the line of drinks in front of him. The scene mirrored the welcome party for Tiffany a year ago. That day was my birthday, but Chad was uncharacteristically unreachable all day. Late that night, I got an unknown call. Later, I found out it was Tiffany, saying Chad was drunk and asking me to pick him up. When I rushed to the private room, they burst into laughter. Tiffany had lost a round of Truth or Dare and deliberately played a trick on me. I was furious and tried to leave immediately, but Chad whispered in my ear, warning me. “Riley, these are all my friends. Don’t make a scene and embarrass me!” Back then, I still loved him deeply, so I swallowed my resentment and sat down. Then, just like tonight, when Tiffany lost and was penalized with drinks, she turned to Chad for help. Chad had already had quite a bit to drink. I knew Chad had a sensitive stomach and felt bad for him. Swayed by his feigned weakness and coaxing, I drank the shots in front of him instead. His buddies seemed to get a kick out of it. Chad kept losing as if cursed, and eventually, I ended up in the hospital. Yet, he showed no gratitude, feeling that my hospital trip ruined their fun. “Riley, look how uncomfortable Chad is. You’re such a good drinker, come on, drink it for him!” My thoughts snapped back to the present. Tiffany looked at me with an air of entitlement. “Chad, hurry up and tell her to come over! She listens to you the most…” Chad stared at me steadily, then carelessly beckoned me over. “I don’t feel well. Drink it for me.” Finally, this moment had arrived. I curved my lips, a smile spreading, and walked toward them.
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