While I was trying on wedding dresses, my boyfriend, Ryan Sterling, told me he was too busy to join me. But then, I turned around and saw him in the bridal shop, helping another woman try on gowns. “This is Amelia Thorne, a neighbor I grew up with. She’s getting married soon too, so I’m just helping her pick out a dress.” I wasn’t happy, but I didn’t make a scene. I knew he disliked it when I did. Late that night, his phone rang. “Amelia’s fiancé suddenly ran off. I need to go check on her.” He ignored my pleas to stay and left, abandoning me, who was terrified of the dark, without a second thought. Twenty minutes later, he called. “Scarlett, I have to marry Amelia first. If she’s unmarried and pregnant, she’ll be shamed.” “She’ll divorce me after the baby is born. Our wedding will just be postponed by a year, that’s all.” If that’s how it is, then you go and marry your Amelia. I won’t wait. 1 “Ms. McKay, this gown looks absolutely stunning on you.” The bridal consultant gushed, practically climbing over herself to praise me, clearly desperate for me to choose their boutique. “Ms. McKay, when will the groom be joining us? Would he like to try on the matching tuxedo?” “He’s busy today, maybe another time,” I replied, trying to keep a cheerful facade. I’d called my fiancé, Ryan Sterling, several times, but he’d either said he was swamped or simply stopped answering. Changing into another gown at a different boutique, I emerged from the dressing room, only to hear Ryan’s voice. “Amelia, you look absolutely gorgeous in this dress.” That genuine, heartfelt praise… it had been so long since I’d heard anything like that from Ryan. He turned, seeing me, and his expression flickered, a complex mix I couldn’t quite decipher. “Ryan, you said you were busy. Who is this? Are you… trying on wedding dresses?” I kept my voice level, the anger and questions bubbling just beneath the surface. “This is Amelia Thorne, a neighbor I grew up with,” he explained, a little too quickly. “She’s also getting married soon, so I’m just helping her pick out a dress.” “You said you were swamped,” I pressed. “I just finished up, then came over. What, do you think I’m lying to you?” A few other customers and consultants started whispering, their eyes darting our way. “Just go home, Scarlett. I’ll explain everything later tonight.” I went home and waited, but he didn’t return until late evening. “I’m going to throw these clothes straight into the washer. They’re a bit dirty.” He always just tossed his dirty laundry on the sofa for me to deal with, but tonight, he was unusually particular. “I’m going to shower quickly, I’ll be right out.” I noticed the bareness of his neck and couldn't help but ask, “Where’s that good luck charm I got for you?” “Oh, I don’t know, it must have fallen off somewhere. You can just get another one, can’t you?” He looked away, evasive, before ducking into the bathroom. When I pulled his shirt from the washing machine, it reeked of strong perfume – the exact scent I’d smelled on that woman this afternoon. There was even half a lipstick print on the collar. When Ryan emerged from the bathroom, he saw the shirt in my hand and his face clouded. “What, are you starting to interrogate me now?” “Were the perfume and lipstick from that woman this afternoon? What exactly is your relationship with her?” Perhaps he hadn't expected me to be so direct, because he froze for a moment. “She was trying on dresses this afternoon, we bumped into each other. What else is there to say?” he scoffed. “Or do you think I’m messing around behind your back?” As he spoke, he snatched the shirt and threw it onto the sofa. A glass of water was knocked to the floor with no warning, shattering into a thousand pieces. One shard, as if by cruel design, sliced my arm. Blood slowly seeped out. “Why are you so careless? Can’t you even avoid broken glass? Always so clumsy.” 2 His words were nothing but blame, devoid of any concern, just like every other time. “Could you… get me some antiseptic and a bandage, please?” “I don’t know where those things are. Just do it yourself.” With that, he swaggered over to the sofa and plopped down. I’d taken such good care of him these past few years that he’d become utterly useless. By the time I’d cleaned and bandaged my wound and returned to the sofa, his phone rang. “I have to go out. Amelia’s fiancé just ran off.” He made to rush out, but I grabbed his arm. “Please don’t go. Doesn’t she have other friends? Does it have to be you? It’s so late, and I’m scared to be alone. You know I hate the dark.” He didn't even glance at me, forcefully batting my hand away. His hand landed exactly on my freshly bandaged wound. Blood immediately began to soak through. He frowned, looking at it briefly. “Things have priorities, Scarlett. If you’re scared of the dark, just leave the lights on.” Without a backward glance, he slammed the door shut. So, my pain and my fear were just minor inconveniences? I sat on the sofa, waiting, until the middle of the night. Then I started calling him, frantically. It was the twelfth call before he finally picked up. “When are you coming home?” He sighed, an irritated sound, punctuated by Amelia’s faint sobs in the background. “Can you just chill? I’ll come back when this is sorted. Why are you rushing me?” Before I could reply, his tone softened slightly. “Scarlett, our wedding might have to be postponed. I… I have to marry Amelia first.” 3 “Are you joking, Ryan? We’re getting married soon!” “I’m not joking. Wait for me to come home, and I’ll explain.” The news hit me like a bolt of lightning, completely blindsiding me. I didn’t know if he was serious or just playing a cruel joke. I cried and waited for him, eventually drifting off to sleep without him ever coming home. “Scarlett, wake up. I brought you your favorite steamed buns.” Ryan nudged me awake. My eyes, swollen from crying, fixed on him, desperate for an explanation. “Eat first, Scarlett. We’ll talk after you’ve eaten. You’ve been waiting all night, you must be starving.” Ryan was unusually gentle today. He reached out and offered a steamed bun to my mouth – beef. “Ryan, I don’t like beef. I prefer the pork and chive buns from that place.” Four years of chasing him, three years of being together, and he still didn’t know me. “Why are you so picky? I waited in line forever to get these for you, and you’re still complaining?” He picked up the bun and tossed it directly into the trash. “Fine, don’t eat it then.” “Ryan, yesterday… you were just kidding, right?” A glimmer of hope, a desperate wish that it was all just a bad joke. “Scarlett, I was serious yesterday. I’m going to marry Amelia.” “But… we’ve already booked the venue. Why this sudden change?” I grabbed his hand, my voice rising to a frantic pitch. “Scarlett, listen to me. Amelia’s pregnant.” 4 “Is it… your child?” My eyes widened, and I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. “No, it’s her boyfriend’s. They were supposed to get married, but he just up and left her. If I don’t help her now, she’ll be a laughingstock.” It sounded ridiculous. She was abandoned, so he had to marry her to help her? “Couldn’t you think of any other way?” “Scarlett, it’ll just be a fake marriage. She’ll divorce me after the baby is born. Then we can still get married, it’s just… waiting an extra year, that’s all.” Just one year, he said, so casually. But why should I have to wait an entire year for someone else? “I won’t agree.” “Can you stop being so cold-blooded? We’re only postponing our wedding by a year. If Amelia doesn’t get married, she’ll be shamed.” Ryan was angry and agitated, but couldn’t he hear how absurd he sounded? “Fine. If you don’t agree, then there won’t be any possibility of us getting married, ever. Think it over carefully.” His words were laced with threat, as if he was certain I couldn’t live without him and would inevitably cave. And he was right, in a way. All these years, I’d revolved around him. When we argued, I was always the first to back down. Everyone knew how much I loved him. But now, that very devotion had become his weapon against me. “I still won’t agree.” He ignored my answer and left without another word. “Principal Reynolds, I’m planning to resign. I’ll send my resignation letter to your email shortly.” If his mind was made up, then I wouldn’t cling to him any longer. 5 Principal Reynolds, as usual, asked for my reasons. I told him I wanted to go home and be with my parents. He didn’t press, only reminded me to ensure a smooth handover so the students’ grades wouldn’t be affected. “Don’t worry, Principal. I’ll handle everything.” In a week, tops, I’d be done with the handover and back with my parents. Ryan could marry his Amelia, and no one would stand in his way. Hanging up the phone, I started packing my luggage. It was best to move out of this place as soon as possible. A knock at the door interrupted my packing. When I emerged from the bedroom and opened it, there stood Amelia. “Scarlett, I came to apologize. Can we talk inside?” “No. Say whatever you need to say out here.” If I’d known it was her, I wouldn't have even opened the door. “Scarlett, Ryan must have told you, I really had no other choice. That’s why he came up with such an idea. Please don’t blame him.” I barely listened to her words, my eyes fixed on the good luck charm around her neck. “Oh, this? Ryan put it on me. He said you specially got it for his safety.” A smug look crossed her face. “He said since I’m pregnant, I really need to stay safe and sound, so he gave it to me. You don’t mind, do you?” I reached up and touched the identical charm around my own neck. How could I not mind? Ryan had fallen seriously ill once, and I was so frantic. I’d knelt for an entire day at the temple to get that charm, wishing only for both of us to be safe. “Whatever. If he wants to give it to you, I can’t stop him.” “Scarlett, do you even know that Ryan doesn’t actually like you?” Her voice held a hint of challenge. She held her phone out, displaying a video. 6 “Ryan, how’s that girlfriend of yours?” “Not great. She’s boring, just cleans and cooks all day, like a housemaid.” “Hahahaha, then why are you even with her? You might as well just hire a maid.” Ryan slung an arm over his friend’s shoulder. “It’s just because my parents like her. She’s dutiful, and she’s crazy about me, and she’s pretty enough. I guess I can make it work.” The video ended with a burst of laughter that stung my ears. So, I was just a ‘make-do’ for Ryan, never truly loved. The sadness overwhelmed the anger, and tears, traitorous tears, started to fall. “Scarlett, if I were you, I would have left ages ago. I couldn’t ‘simp’ for someone like that.” She scoffed, mocking me. “Didn’t you know? He’s always liked me, ever since we were kids. If you know what’s good for you, just get lost.” The elevator door chimed open. Amelia suddenly leaned in close, whispered something quickly, then stumbled backward. “Amelia, are you okay?” Ryan rushed out of the elevator. “Ryan, I just wanted to apologize to Scarlett, but she got so agitated and pushed me. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” Amelia leaned into Ryan’s arms, her eyes brimming with tears, looking utterly helpless and pitiful. Ryan immediately scooped her up. Before leaving, he shot me a hateful glare. “Scarlett McKay, I never realized you were so vicious.” 7 I watched them leave, without even the energy to defend myself. I ripped the good luck charm from my neck and threw it into the trash. When I truly started packing, I realized I had a surprising amount of stuff. Two or three hours later, I was only halfway done. Just as I planned to sit down and rest, my phone chimed. It was a video from Ryan. The video was taken by Amelia. It showed Ryan sitting beside her hospital bed, meticulously peeling an orange for her. So Ryan could tolerate the smell of oranges. For three years, because he’d said he didn’t like the scent, I’d never eaten an orange at home. But now, he was peeling one for Amelia with his own hands. A wave of injustice surged through me, uncontrollable. Why did he have to treat me this way? “Scarlett, could you make some home-cooked meals and bring them over? Amelia’s pregnant and can’t eat takeout. And come apologize.” Without waiting for my reply, Ryan quickly hung up. The call lasted only a few seconds. Despite the throbbing in my arm, I cooked a few dishes and packed them. This would be my final repayment to Ryan. Back in my freshman year, I’d been cornered in an alley by some thugs. Ryan had bravely intervened, chasing them off. He’d taken a beating for it. That incident sparked an irrepressible affection in me. Because he’d been my hero, I’d always forgiven him. But now, this was the last time. When I arrived at the hospital, Ryan was gently and carefully combing Amelia’s hair. I remembered how I’d begged him to blow-dry my hair, only for him to burn a large patch of my scalp. He’d just irritably called it a hassle. The contrast was truly laughable. “Scarlett, thank you for making food for me. I really can’t stomach takeout.” Ryan took the food containers and carefully spoon-fed Amelia, bite by bite. “Ugh, why does this taste so awful?”
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