My arranged fiancé is the most notorious playboy in the city's elite circle. He’s told me multiple times, "I'm not done having fun. There’s no way I'm going through with this engagement." "Give up." He refused to meet me, didn't even know what I looked like. That is, until I went to find him to call it off. But the moment he saw me, he froze, turning to his friend and saying: "Bro, I think I'm about to have a wife." I handed the engagement ring back to him. "No, you're about to lose one." 1 After messaging Julian countless times with zero response, I decided to track him down. His schedule was easy to find—if he wasn't at a club, he was at a karaoke bar or some other party spot. Sure enough, I heard he’d be at The Velvet Room tonight. I hate clubs, but I gritted my teeth and went. I’ve been a "good girl" my whole life—quiet, introverted. I could count on one hand the number of times I'd been to a place like this. Before walking in, I hyped myself up. I found a seat at the bar, ordered a virgin mojito, and casually scanned the room for Julian. He wasn't there yet. He’s always the center of attention; if he were here, it would feel like a spotlight was shining on him. Since I couldn't find him, I opened our chat history. My last message was from yesterday: [It's really hot lately, remember sunscreen.] No reply. Scrolling up, it was just me talking to myself: [The sunset is beautiful today.] [I heard the zoo has capybaras now, they're so cute. Want to go?] [A new restaurant opened, the food looks amazing.] [Okay, guess you're busy. Goodnight.] [My mom took me ring shopping today. I picked one for ages. Do you like it?] Julian only replied when I mentioned the engagement, and it was never nice: [Wendy, stop embarrassing yourself.] [I told you, I don't want this engagement.] [I'm not done playing. I'm not settling down.] I pretended not to see those messages. It’s not that I wasn't hurt. I just felt like we deserved better than this. He hadn't even met me, hadn't spent a second with me. Every time I asked to meet and talk properly, he refused, saying, "No need." He didn't care what I looked like. He just didn't want to marry me. 2 Julian said he wasn't done playing the field and didn't want to be tied down. I understood that. That’s why I wanted a chance—just one chance to hang out. I hadn't dared to find him before because, one, I'm shy, and two, I was scared he’d hate me for it. So coming here tonight took everything I had. The club was loud and dark. I endured the discomfort, waiting for Julian. Suddenly, a commotion near the entrance. I looked over and there he was. Simple dress shirt, top buttons undone, leaning lazily back into a booth. Surrounded by gorgeous girls smiling at him. Seeing him, I hesitated. Someone like Julian really doesn't seem like the marrying type. Rich kid, spoiled from birth, a master of the nightlife. He walked through a garden of flowers but never picked a single leaf. I started doubting myself. Was my persistence meaningless? Even though I came here to find him, seeing him in his element made me want to shrink away. I decided to watch for a bit before making a move. I wasn't far from his table, but the corner was dark and my hat was pulled low, so I felt hidden. Halfway through my drink, amidst the thumping bass, I heard my name. Someone mentioned me: "Hey, Julian, what's up with the engagement? Still happening?" Julian frowned. "Don't ask. I don't know what potion she fed my parents, but they won't let me call it off." "I think your parents have good taste!" someone piped up. "I think Wendy is really pretty! Why don't you just meet her?" Before Julian could speak, someone else cut in: "Oh please, pretty is useless! Look at all the girls chasing Julian over the years—gorgeous, perfect, and he rejected every single one. He's picky." "Yeah, who knows who can finally tame him." Julian scoffed. "Nobody can. Forget it. I'm used to freedom; I can't stand being tied down." "Alright then. Let me know when you break it off, I'll ask my mom to propose for me. I actually like Wendy." "Sure," Julian said, taking a sip of his drink, completely indifferent. "I'll let you know." His tone was casual, as if I were a toy he could just pass along. My heart felt like it was being squeezed. I couldn't stay any longer. Using the crowd as cover, I ran out of the club. I found a bench in a nearby park, tears streaming down my face as I opened our chat. I had once texted him: [Can we meet and talk, please?] He replied: [Unless it's to call off the engagement, no.] I wiped my blurry screen and typed again: [Are you free next week? Can we talk?] After a while, he replied: [Didn't I tell you? Unless it's to call off the engagement, no.] I sniffled, finally making up my mind. [Yeah. It's to call off the engagement.] 3 I never expected that the first time I successfully asked Julian out would be to break up. When my mom told me the Thorne family asked about the engagement, I was so happy I couldn't sleep. I thought he agreed to it. Later, I found out his parents set it up without asking him. So I accepted his resistance. It wasn't his fault. I wanted him to give me a chance, but I forgot—with so many better options around him, why would he choose me? He didn't want the engagement, didn't want to see me. That’s fair. It’s just that this one-sided emotional drain was exhausting. He did nothing wrong. Maybe we just weren't meant to be. I didn't want to keep pushing. I’ve liked him for so long, it’s time to move on. We agreed to meet next week at a new coffee shop. The weather had been perfect all week, but on the day of, it started pouring. Although the rain stopped, puddles were everywhere. I set the GPS wrong and ended up near the shop but not at it. The driver didn't know where to go, so I got out to walk the rest of the way. Just as I was getting close, a supercar zoomed past me, splashing through a massive puddle. I was soaked in muddy water. I looked down at the stains on my white dress and sighed. I wore my favorite dress for this. Even if it was the end, I wanted to end it looking good. Who knew... I took out a tissue, bent down, and started wiping the mud, thinking: Guess we really aren't meant to be. Suddenly, someone stopped in front of me. "Sorry, my friend wasn't looking. He splashed you." Hearing that lazy voice, I froze. I didn't dare stand up. He continued, "He's parking. I'll make him pay for your dress." My hand clutching the tissue was sweating. I felt like I couldn't breathe. Seeing me frozen and weird, he asked, "You okay?" I took three deep breaths before slowly straightening up. Seeing his face, I thought: Of course it's him. So, looking like a drowned rat, I met Julian Thorne. Still that dangerously handsome face, tall build blocking my view, forcing me to only see him. But Julian seemed to freeze too. He stopped talking, his gaze burning as it met mine. I held his gaze for less than ten seconds before losing my nerve and looking away. But I could still feel his eyes on me. The atmosphere got weirdly awkward. I wondered: Did he recognize me? Then he asked, word by word: "Can I get your number?" I was silent. He definitely didn't recognize me. He explained, "To pay you for the dress." I shook my head. "No need." I didn't want to keep standing there, so I turned to enter the coffee shop. But Julian grabbed my arm. I looked back at him in surprise. He seemed shocked by his own action too, quickly letting go and pulling out his phone. "Just add me." I didn't know how to tell him he was already in my contacts. "Holy sh*t, Julian, what are you doing!" I looked over to see another tall, handsome guy walking over, looking shocked. I knew him. Julian's best friend, Ben. They were too conspicuous. I was anxious to go inside and afraid Julian would grab me again, so I pointed at the shop. "Inside." He clearly didn't get what I meant, but nodded. I walked in. Behind me, Ben’s voice drifted over: "Dude, Julian, are you possessed? You never ask girls for their number!" "Look at your eyes, you look like you want to eat her." "Something is wrong. Very wrong." Julian’s voice was faint: "You know nothing." "I think I'm about to have a wife." 4 "You already have one," Ben teased. "That fiancée of yours." Julian told him to get lost. "Not her." The coffee shop was new and trendy, lots of girls taking photos. Julian and Ben looked around. Ben asked, "Which one is your fiancée?" "Who knows?" Julian frowned, then tapped something on his phone. My screen lit up. Message from Julian: [I'm here.] I looked up and saw them walking toward me. Before I could confess, Julian made Ben apologize. "Apologize. Your driving sucks." "You have the nerve to blame me?" Ben retorted. "You're the one who said we should celebrate getting out of the engagement and made me drive you." But after bickering, he apologized sincerely: "So sorry! Drove too fast, didn't see you. How much was the dress? I'll pay." "It's fine," I said. "Really." After apologizing, Ben kept staring at me, thinking. Julian noticed. "What are you looking at?" Ben ignored him and asked me, "Sister, have we met somewhere?" We had. "What do you mean?" Julian’s face darkened. "Hitting on girls in front of me?" "Screw you, I'm not that guy!" Ben lowered his voice. "I wouldn't steal your girl." "Then what did you mean?" "I'm not a creep using pick-up lines! She really looks familiar! No other meaning!" They went back and forth like a comedy duo. I interrupted. "Um..." They stopped and looked at me. "Let's talk business." Ben was confused. "What business?" I sighed, picked up my phone, and called Julian. Julian’s phone buzzed. He picked it up. Ben peeked at the screen. "Who is it? No name saved." I stiffened. Even after deciding to end it, that stung. He hadn't even saved my number. Ben realized. "Ah! Is it Wendy?" Hearing my name, Julian’s face soured again. He scanned the shop again, looking for me, and answered, "Hello." My voice on the phone overlapped with my voice in front of him. "Julian." I looked at him. "It's me. Wendy." I don't know if Julian heard the echo. He froze. Ben’s jaw dropped. Julian turned stiffly to look at me, holding the phone. "Wendy?" No point staying on the line. I hung up. "Sigh." The air seemed to solidify between us. Ben reacted first. "Holy sh*t, Julian, that really is your wife." "No." I took the ring box out of my bag. "Not for much longer." When his mom took me shopping, I spent so long picking it out, full of joy. I never wore it, but I kept it on my nightstand, hoping one day he’d accept me and I could put it on. Guess that day isn't coming. I handed him the box. "Julian, here's the ring back." "I agree to call off the engagement." "Sorry for bothering you before." Julian stared at me, not taking the box. After a long while, he stammered, "Wendy, I didn't know..." I smiled bitterly. "It's okay." "Don't give it back yet." He refused to take it. "My brain is a mess. Wait a minute." "I don't want to wait." I put the box on the table and pushed it toward him. "I'm leaving." "Wendy." Julian grabbed my wrist for the second time today. "I'll drive you." I peeled his fingers off, one by one. "No thanks. I'll walk."
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