Walking out of the police station after handling the accident, I got into Arthur's passenger seat and broke up with him. "Chloe, I'm tired. Can you stop causing a scene?" Looking at Arthur's profile as he gripped the steering wheel, I suddenly laughed. "I'm not causing a scene." "Arthur," I turned my head, my gaze falling on the neon lights outside the window, "we're done here." ... The Tesla slammed on its brakes in the middle of the river-crossing bridge. The air in the car froze solid, like a frozen lake. "Give me a reason." Arthur tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, his voice cold enough to form frost. "Give me a decent reason for whatever crazy fit you're throwing now." I looked in the rearview mirror at the white Audi that had been tailing us for three intersections. I rolled down the window, letting the night wind rush in. "I bet... thirty seconds tops." "The person in that car is going to come looking for you." I started counting down. "Thirty." "Twenty-nine." "Twenty-eight." By the time I reached twenty-five, the white Audi had already pulled over. The door opened, and a girl in a beige trench coat ran over and tapped on Arthur's window. Arthur frowned and rolled down the window. "Arthur, I'm so, so sorry!" The girl's eyes were red, her voice carrying a sob. "I really didn't mean to rear-end you. I just saw you driving so fast, and I was worried you'd get into an accident, so I followed..." She looked at me, a tear falling with perfect timing. "Chloe, please don't be mad. I didn't mean to interrupt you guys. I was just... just too worried." She reached out to grab my sleeve, but I avoided her. "Hit me," the girl offered her face. "If it makes you feel better, hit me." Arthur firmly grabbed the girl's shoulder. "Mia, what are you doing?" Then he turned to me, his eyes full of disappointment. "Chloe, where are your manners? Did a dog eat them?" I laughed out loud. See? I did absolutely nothing, just sat here, and somehow I became the unreasonable, petty one. I pushed Mia's hand away and looked straight at Arthur. "Understand now?" "Arthur," the area where my heart was felt completely numb. I unbuckled my seatbelt. "This is the reason." "Let's break up." I pushed open the car door, and under Mia's shocked yet faintly gleeful gaze, I smiled at Arthur. "Congratulations. All those little tricks you played over the years to wedge yourself between me and Arthur have finally paid off." "I don't want Arthur anymore." I turned and started walking away. Arthur rushed out of the car and grabbed my wrist. "Chloe Vance! Do you have any idea how important the signing I missed today was because of this accident? Just because you called and said your car got hit, I ditched my client and rushed to the police station! And what do I find? The person who rear-ended you was Mia! The intern from my company!" "She's already apologized, the insurance is handling it. What more do you want?" "I've tolerated you for a long time, Chloe. Mia constantly speaks well of you in front of me, telling me to be more considerate of you, telling me not to fight with you. Can you stop being so ungrateful?" He gripped my wrist so tightly it hurt, pulling at an old injury and sending sharp pain shooting up my arm. I looked down at the ring of skin. "Let go!" I forcefully shook him off, rubbing my aching wrist, and roared. "Arthur Sterling!" "I've tolerated you for a long time too!" Arthur and I had been together for eight years. From college to our startup, from a basement rental to a luxury penthouse with a river view. We fought, we made a scene, we gave each other the silent treatment, but I had never, ever humiliated him in front of an outsider like this. But I didn't want to tolerate it anymore. "When I had a 104-degree fever, you accompanied her to the animal shelter to find homes for stray cats. When my project presentation was heavily criticized by a client, you watched a meteor shower with her on the roof. Every time I needed you, you were by her side!" I stared into Arthur's eyes. "You gave her the passcode to my apartment so she could come get documents for you while I was on a business trip. You gave her my collectible figurines as a birthday present, saying, 'Chloe doesn't play with these anyway.' Today, when my car gets rear-ended, your first words are, 'Is Mia okay?'—" "Arthur!" "We are over!" My emotions were like a broken dam. The dignity I had maintained all night completely collapsed. Arthur's face changed, and he instinctively explained, "I had Mia get the documents because I had a meeting right away! I asked about Mia because her car was damaged worse! Why do you always cling to these trivial things?" "Chloe!" He looked at me, his eyes filled with exhaustion and disappointment. "When did you become so petty? Clinging to every little clue and refusing to let go." "Chloe, a pathetic woman looks exactly like you do right now!" I thought I wouldn't hurt anymore. From giving my statement at the traffic police to getting into his car, I had been very calm. Even in the car, I reviewed our past eight years—from meeting to falling in love, from having nothing to having everything. And I reached a conclusion: it was time to end it. I wanted to leave with dignity. But my heart still ached because of his words, like the softest piece of flesh being repeatedly beaten with a blunt instrument. "Yeah. In your eyes, I'm the most pathetic one." I let out a low laugh. "So, I don't care about your love anymore either." I turned to leave, but Mia lunged forward and grabbed my hand. I hadn't even cried, but she started crying first, tears falling pat pat pat. "Chloe, I'm sorry, it's all my fault... I'll resign tomorrow, I'll leave the company, I'll disappear... Arthur really loves you, please don't throw a tantrum at him, okay?" I hated this act of Mia's the most. Watching her cry a river of tears, I forcefully shook her off. "Get lost!" Mia stumbled a few steps from my shove, looking at me in shock. "Chloe!" Arthur rushed over to support Mia. Seeing that she scraped her elbow, he turned and yelled at me, "Are you crazy?! Apologize to Mia!" "In your dreams." I looked at Arthur, caught the fleeting look of triumph in Mia's eyes, and dropped one last sentence: "Either we part amicably, or I move out. You choose." I didn't look back, nor did I care about Mia's sobbing or Arthur's coaxing behind me. I hailed a cab directly and went to my best friend, Elena's, house. When Elena opened the door and saw me, she didn't ask anything, just stepped aside to let me in. She brought out two twelve-packs of beer from the fridge, placed them on the coffee table, and asked only one question: "Is this enough?" Looking at the beer, my eyes suddenly welled up with tears. I was holding it together just fine a second ago. Elena didn't say a word, just opened her arms. "Cry if you want to cry. You don't have to pretend in front of me." I completely broke down, burying my face in her shoulder and sobbing loudly. I cried until my voice was hoarse, until I was shaking all over, until I rushed into the bathroom and threw up violently. Finally, with a raspy voice, I said: "I want to break up." What is the end of love? It's going from people who promised to fight the whole world together, to becoming opponents stabbing each other in the back. It's going from believing that marriage can make flowers bloom in a graveyard, to finally admitting that flowers fade and love withers. I stayed at Elena's place for half a month. During this half month, I saw thirty-seven updates from Mia on her social media. Every single one had traces of Arthur. 【Late nights at the office are only not lonely when someone keeps you company.】 Attached was a selfie of Mia, with Arthur's silhouette working at his computer in the background. 【You said you would always be my light.】 Attached was a picture of two hands—Mia's wrist wearing the watch I gave Arthur for his birthday last year, and another hand resting on her wrist. Arthur's hand. 【Going somewhere important with someone important.】 Attached was a photo in an airport VIP lounge. Mia smiling brightly, with Arthur resting his eyes beside her. One after another. It made Elena bounce off the sofa, pointing at the phone and cursing loudly: "Holy shit! This bitch! Is Arthur blind? Can't he see what she's after? A dog could see it!" Elena was jumping mad. I, on the other hand, was very calm. It seemed like I was getting through the withdrawal period. Regarding Elena's fury, I merely said flatly: "Arthur knows exactly what's going on." "Knows?" Elena sat next to me. "If he knows, why is he pretending to be innocent?" "In his eyes, as long as they haven't slept together, he's innocent." I twitched the corner of my mouth. "After all, he always says that he and Mia are completely clean, and it's my mind that's dirty." Arthur always guarded that bottom line. So every time I caused a scene, he could always use that line, "Your mind is dirty, so everything you see is dirty," to leave me speechless. Looking at these things now, I didn't feel much anymore. I reminded Elena: "The moving company is booked for ten." Since I wanted a clean break, I had to move out of that house. I didn't have much stuff, but there were some things I couldn't leave behind—like the box of out-of-print design drafts my dad left me. "As long as you've really thought it through." Elena patted my shoulder. When we arrived downstairs at the apartment building, I glanced at my phone—Mia had posted an update half an hour ago. The location was a resort hotel in a neighboring city, and a photo collage entirely filled with Arthur. I thought I wouldn't run into her today. But the moment I pushed the door open, I smelled food. Walking into the living room, I saw Mia wearing my loungewear, sitting cross-legged at the dining table eating shrimp. Seeing me, she jumped up like a frightened rabbit. "Chloe..." I looked at her clothes, then at Arthur's frozen expression as he came out of the kitchen carrying soup. "You're back?" Arthur asked stiffly. "Have you eaten?" I ignored him and walked straight toward the study. Then I stopped dead in my tracks. The design books that were originally neatly arranged on the bookshelf were scattered everywhere. The blueprints on the work desk were all over the floor. But what made my heart clench the most was— The door to the safe in the corner was open. "Chloe..." Mia followed me to the door, her voice as faint as a mosquito. "I'm sorry... Arthur and I just got back from the hotel, and I left my suitcase there... Arthur let me wear your clothes first..." "I accidentally... bumped into the safe..." My brain buzzed. I turned my head and saw the stack of yellowing blueprints in Mia's hand—a large section of the edge was stained with coffee. "I really didn't mean to!" Mia suddenly threw herself at me, kneeling in front of me and grabbing my arm. "Hit me! Please! Hit me to vent your anger!" "I didn't know these were your father's belongings! I really didn't know!" Mia grabbed my hand and pulled it toward her own face. "Hit me! Hit me hard! It'll make me feel better!" She made a motion to kowtow. Just as her forehead was about to touch the ground, a hand reached over and caught her. Arthur pulled her up, looked at me, and spoke with a tone as calm as if he were remarking on the nice weather today. "He's already gone; these are just inanimate objects in the end. Mia knows she made a mistake. Don't make things difficult for her." His tone was so self-righteous. As if I were the one making a big deal out of nothing, the narrow-minded one. He stood in front of Mia in a protective stance, telling me: "She feels guilty enough already. Don't harp on it." I couldn't utter a single word. As long as Mia played the victim, I was always in the wrong. From Mia "accidentally" losing my award certificates, to "unintentionally" deleting the design proposals on my computer, to "not noticing" and breaking the custom couple mugs Arthur and I had, and now, ruining the last manuscripts my dad left me— Arthur always told me to be magnanimous, to forgive. The buzzing in my ears grew louder. My fingertips trembled. I walked up to Mia, and before Arthur could react— I grabbed Mia's hair and smashed her head violently against the bookcase door. Then, amidst Mia's screams, I kicked the back of her knee, forcing her to truly kneel before me. "That's not how you kowtow." I stepped on her calf, grabbed her hair, and slammed her head heavily against the floor. A dull thud. Mia's forehead instantly drew blood. "This is how you admit your mistakes." My eyes burned. I grabbed her, ready to slam her head again, when Arthur rushed over and grabbed my wrist. "Let go!" "In your dreams!" Arthur's other hand came down, forcefully prying my fingers open. The agonizing pain of my fingernail being ripped back made me frown deeply, but he didn't seem to notice and kept applying force. "Chloe Vance! That's enough!" Enough? I looked at Arthur, laughing out of sheer fury: "Arthur, the difference between humans and animals is that humans can think and have a bottom line! We don't just blindly show favoritism based on instinct!" "Since you insist on protecting her—" Ignoring the agonizing pain of my torn fingernail, in the moment Arthur was stunned, I slapped Mia fiercely across the face. Along with the pain of my split nail, a few bloody scratches appeared on the face that showed up on my feed every day. Mia broke down and screamed. I laughed out loud. "Karma." I looked at Arthur's disbelieving expression, then at Mia, who was covering her face and howling. I enunciated every word clearly: "I was never a pushover, you should have known that." "Arthur, you've thoroughly pissed me off." "If I don't ruin you both, my last name isn't Vance!" When Elena rushed in with the movers, her first reaction was a "Holy shit," followed by a cold look as she saw my bloody fingers: "Animal!" She swung her hand and slapped the back of Arthur's head, leaving him bewildered. Arthur looked at Elena, then at the movers, and demanded of me: "What exactly are you trying to do!" "Making room for your precious sweetheart," I said coldly. "But looking at things now—" I glanced at Mia, who was sitting on the floor covering her face, and the furious Arthur. "There's no need." I grabbed a crowbar from one of the movers and walked toward the abstract painting on the living room wall—a piece we painted together when we first moved in here. I smashed the crowbar down. The canvas tore; the frame shattered. Just like our eight years, shattered beyond repair. "Guys," I handed the crowbar back, "I've transferred the money. Sorry for making you come all the way out here today." "The stuff here," I swept my gaze around the room, "is too dirty. I don't want it anymore." The mover, startled by the scene, asked quietly: "Do you need... to call the police?" Mia jumped up from the floor: "Call the police for what! She hit me! If anyone's calling the police, it's me!" Elena finally noticed the scratches on Mia's face and let out an "Oh": "Isn't this our little white lotus? Not pretending to be delicate anymore?" Mia glared at her viciously, enduring the pain, and said: "Chloe, I never wanted to steal Arthur! Why are you doing this to me!" "Don't you know how important a reputation is?" "Of course you do!" she suddenly raised her voice. "Arthur told me everything!" "You were sexually harassed by a professor in college! You're not clean yourself, so you think everyone else is dirty too!" "Mia!" Arthur shouted sternly. "Shut up!" This was the first time I had ever seen Arthur yell at Mia like that. In my memory, Mia was always right, and I was always wrong. Even breathing was a mistake. I used to think that Arthur might just be momentarily confused. That maybe when he calmed down, he'd turn back and apologize. Maybe I should wait. Maybe I should give him another chance. But I never thought that my painful past would be spoken from Mia's mouth. I never expected Arthur to expose my scars to others, giving them a knife to stab me with. "Yeah." I suddenly smiled. "I am pretty dirty." In my senior year, to help Arthur secure a guaranteed spot in a graduate program, I offended a well-connected professor in my department. Later, I was called to his office for a "talk" and almost got assaulted. Although he didn't succeed, rumors spread. They said I slept my way to the top, that I won awards through illicit means. Back then, I thought Arthur believed me, that he was on my side. My heart still hurt. It hurt so much I couldn't breathe, yet I still had to look at Arthur, who was now panicking: "So, don't make me look down on you." I grabbed Elena and walked out. Elena cursed as we walked: "Bastards! A whole family of bastards!" "You motherfucking, cursed bastards!" The bastard chased after us. The bastard used the soft, yielding tone I had waited half a year for to stop me: "I didn't!" "Chloe, believe me! I never thought you were dirty! Never!" Arthur's eyes were red with anxiety. "Those things... I didn't mean to tell Mia. She kept asking, and I had too much to drink, so I..." He tried to grab my hand, but I violently shook him off. "Wait for the letter from my lawyer." As Arthur tried to pursue us again, Elena turned around and slapped him across the face. "Get lost!" In the car, Elena didn't ask where I was going, and I didn't give a destination. We just drove around the city for over three hours. Watching the familiar streets, the light from the streetlamps flowing across the car windows... I remembered the year my dad was in the late stages of liver cancer, lying in his hospital bed, holding my hand and saying: "Chloe, you're the one I'm most worried about leaving behind." I remembered that rainy night, squatting in the hospital corridor crying until I was dehydrated. Arthur found me, looked at me tenderly, and swore: "Chloe, from now on, I am your family." "I will love you in your dad's place." "I will love you forever."
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