1 "What wedding? Who are you marrying?" "Didn't I just tell you? I won't even think about marriage until the company's stable." Brooke appeared behind me so silently I didn't even notice. Her brow was subtly furrowed, and a flush still lingered on her cheeks. "So that's what you meant by that French phrase?" I asked, my voice flat. "What else? I told you to learn French, but you just wouldn't listen. If you hate these business dinners so much, just go home. Otherwise, everyone else can't really let loose." Brooke's eyes were slightly glazed, but her voice held an undeniable force, brooking no argument. "Yeah, Alex, if you can't even handle a single drink, you might as well retreat from the battlefield now," Kyle chimed in. "As for Brooke, I'll make sure she gets home in one piece. Don't worry about her." Kyle, I realized, had already slung an arm around Brooke's shoulders. He eyed me, a smirk playing on his lips, his gaze brimming with open challenge. Brooke even chimed in, "Kyle's right. Your stomach practically stages a rebellion if it even smells alcohol. Just head home, don't spoil the fun for everyone else." Listening to the laughter ringing through the private room, I couldn't help but let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. Among the socialites Grandfather had lined up for an arranged marriage, I'd casually picked one. At three A.M., the city was utterly silent. I waited at home until well past three. Only then did I hear movement outside the door. Opening the door, I was met with Kyle, and a flushed, almost radiant, Brooke. "Oh, Alex, you're still up? Well, since you are, could you do me a favor and clean up my sister for me?" He dangled a set of keys, a victor's smirk on his face, and turned to leave. Only then did I realize: Brooke had given him a key to our home too! Staring at Brooke, reeking of alcohol, my stomach churned with fury, but I had no choice but to get her settled first. As I laid her on the bed, my gaze snagged on a crimson mark on her chest. The faint, lingering mark made my brows instantly knit together. I had a sickening premonition of what it was. But just as my fingertips brushed her collar, a hand suddenly gripped mine. "Husband…" When I opened my eyes, Brooke was pressed against me. Her eyes were glazed, and her voice, thick with desire, whispered my name. But before I could even reply, I heard her next words. "Kyle, don't leave me." Brooke's voice was laced with a sob, and she slumped heavily against me. The scent of men's cologne, clinging to her hair, assaulted my nostrils. It was Kyle's signature scent: Dior Sauvage. My stomach churned violently. I stumbled to the trash can, gagging dryly. But as I straightened up, I saw the crimson mark clearly. My mind buzzed with a deafening roar. In a self-destructive frenzy, I lifted her and plunged her into the bathtub, frantically trying to wash her clean. But the sticky white residue on her underwear screamed the truth. She was utterly tainted, and no amount of washing could make her clean again! Only then did I understand what Kyle had meant by "could you do me a favor and clean up" before he left. That night, I didn't sleep a wink. When Brooke finally stirred awake, the floor around me was littered with cigarette butts. "Alex, are you insane? I was just celebrating with Kyle and the others! You actually stripped me naked and left me to soak in the tub all night! If you wanted to kill me, you could have just said so!" Her face was contorted with fury, a dark scowl fixed as she stood in the bathroom doorway. The crimson mark on her chest seared my eyes once more. Brooke followed my gaze, her eyes finally landing on the hickey. The fierce glare in her eyes instantly morphed into a flicker of guilt. "What are you staring at? It’s just a mosquito bite." She stammered an explanation, haphazardly grabbing a bath towel to cover herself. But the truth, now laid bare, couldn't be hidden. After taking a deep breath, I uttered the words, "It’s over. Let’s break up." Brooke’s movements froze. She stared at me, dumbfounded. "What did you say? Just because of this little mark, you're breaking up with me? Have I been too good to you lately? Is that why you’ve gotten so arrogant? Don't forget, I'm the one who's been supporting you!" Brooke’s accusations tumbled out, one after another. I simply laughed. Yes, she signed my paychecks. Even the underwear I was wearing was bought with her card. But she seemed to forget: she owed her success today to me, to every single drink I’d downed, to the point of ruining my stomach, to secure her deals! For six years with Brooke, I’d sacrificed a substantial family fortune back home. Ignoring my family’s disapproval, I’d moved across the globe with her to build a business. During our toughest times, we lived in a cramped studio apartment, surviving on stale instant meals. Every night, we'd fall asleep to the sound of our neighbor's snoring. Even then, our relationship remained as loving as ever. Now that we'd finally achieved success, she was utterly captivated by the allure of late-night indulgence! Why had Kyle, who’d been out of the picture for years, suddenly resurfaced? What was his agenda? Everyone knew, but Brooke was lost in a delusional fantasy. The clothes strewn across the floor were a chaotic mess, mirroring the turmoil in my heart. At this point, it no longer mattered who was right or wrong. I stubbed out my cigarette, then brushed past her. I pulled out my suitcase and began packing my clothes. That single action ignited Brooke’s temper. She ripped the clothes I’d just packed, one by one, out of the suitcase and threw them to the floor. "What do you think you’re doing?! I haven’t agreed! You can’t just break up with me!" She shrieked, her voice raw, looking utterly unhinged, like a banshee. She smashed our matching mugs on the floor, and a shard sliced through my pants leg. I ignored it, merely offering a bitter laugh in return. "You’ve already got someone new. Why are you still clinging to an old flame like me? Do I need to pull out evidence of your romantic rendezvous before you’ll let go? Wouldn’t it be better if we ended things civilly? With some dignity?!" Brooke was red-faced with rage, until I pointed to the floor. Only then did she notice the pink underwear in the corner, a patch of dried white fluid still clinging to it. Brooke’s head snapped towards me, her face utterly drained of color. "Alex, it’s not what you think…" Her mouth hung open, her mind racing to find an explanation. But a ringing phone shattered her desperate thoughts. She glanced at the caller ID, her brow furrowing deeply. After hanging up, she became visibly agitated. "Kyle was in a car accident on his way home. I have to go bail him out now. As for what happened today, I’ll explain when I get back!" With that, Brooke haphazardly threw on a jacket and stormed out the door, abandoning our fight mid-sentence. Watching her hasty retreat, in that moment, I felt like nothing more than a clown. The phone in the living room suddenly rang. It was Grandfather, calling long-distance. "Alex, the arranged marriage is set for five days from now. I'll handle everything; you just need to show up! And the private jet to pick you up arrives tomorrow morning. If you dare to play games with me again, Alex, I'll find a new heir for the Hayes empire!" Grandfather's voice was firm and unwavering. As soon as he hung up, a flight confirmation text came through. I sighed heavily, looking at the time. Originally, I'd planned to leave tonight, but since Grandfather had his own arrangements, I'd follow his lead. It also gave me time to thoroughly clear out the apartment, completely severing all ties with Brooke. That night, Brooke never returned. Only after clearing out all my belongings did I realize my thigh had a deep gash. It must have happened when Brooke was throwing her fit earlier. To prevent infection, I hastily stopped the bleeding, intending to go to the hospital for proper disinfection and bandaging. But when I got to the garage, I found Brooke had taken the car. All that was left in the garage was Brooke’s newly purchased, ice-berry colored Ferrari. I figured I'd temporarily use her car to get to the hospital. To my dismay, the moment I opened the car door, a foul, nauseating stench assaulted me, so strong it nearly choked me! The interior was a chaotic mess, splattered everywhere with an unidentified white fluid! The framed photo that used to hang on the rearview mirror was smashed, casually tossed in a corner. Only then did I understand why Brooke hadn't taken her own car. I picked up the photo from the floor. In the picture, Brooke stood in front of the Ferrari, one hand resting on the hood, the other wrapped around my waist. Her red lips were parted in a brilliant, beaming smile. We’d taken this when we picked up the car. I remembered her exclaiming then, "I have it all—success and love! I, Brooke, am the happiest woman in the world!" The past replayed. Her excited voice still faintly echoed in my ears. But as the echoes faded, everything had changed irrevocably. On the photo, my face had been ripped off, and my body was marked with a huge 'X'. I knew this was Kyle's way of taunting me. But none of that mattered. I was leaving the country tomorrow anyway. From then on, they could be as 'deeply in love' as they wanted! The most urgent thing now was to get to the hospital. Seeing the wrecked car, I hesitated to get in. But taxis were impossible to find in the suburbs at 4 AM, and the gauze on my thigh was already starting to bleed through. Left with no choice, I hastily cleared the driver's seat. Enduring the disgusting smell, I drove all the way. By the time I reached the hospital, dawn was just breaking. I dragged my blood-stained leg, painstakingly climbing the steps, only to run head-on into Brooke, who was helping Kyle out. "What are you doing here?" I asked. Before I could reply, Kyle cowered slightly behind Brooke. He spoke first, quickly. "Alex, you’re not here to catch us, are you? Brooke and I really didn't do anything. She just saw I was in an accident, so she came to take care of me." Kyle raised his arm, extending it towards me. His smooth arm had not a single speck of blood, just a few minor scratches at most. "That’s your so-called accident? What, did you crash into a toy car?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm, enduring the throbbing pain in my leg. Kyle, however, acted as if he’d been grievously wronged, tugging on Brooke's sleeve, his eyes welling with tears. "Brooke, I haven’t even said anything, and look at Alex… he’s being so mean." Her precious darling’s brow furrowed, and Brooke instantly melted with concern. She quickly explained the origin of my injury to Kyle, telling him to stop talking. "Oh, I see… But how could just a mug leave such a large gash?" Kyle gave me a sly, knowing smile. "Maybe Alex just wants you to feel sorry for him, Brooke, deliberately worsening his injury? It’s a classic sympathy play!" At his words, everyone in the medical room turned to stare at me. But Kyle continued. "Brooke, think about it: how could a mere ceramic shard cause such a huge gash? And it just happened to be the hospital you brought me to? Isn’t that just too convenient? He clearly wanted you to find him! And he even drove that pink Ferrari specifically…" His words seemed to make everything click for Brooke. Her brow furrowed, and the last vestiges of guilt vanished from her eyes. "You’d actually stoop to such manipulation just to gain my favor?! And to think I just apologized, begging for your forgiveness. Alex, you’ve truly disappointed me! From today onward, I’m cutting off all your cards. You can stay home and reflect until you finally understand!" With that, she stood up from her chair, pulling Kyle with her towards the door. Before leaving, Kyle even flipped me off. Seeing this, the onlookers all cast judgmental glances my way. "Times have really changed. Even men are this manipulative now…" They murmured among themselves, but I didn’t care in the slightest. Grandfather’s driver, sent to pick me up for the airport, had arrived. When I exited the hospital, the driver was waiting at the entrance. He stepped out of the car and walked respectfully towards me. Just as he reached for my luggage, he realized I had nothing behind me. "Mr. Hayes, no luggage?" "None, and I don't need any." Perhaps sensing my mood, he said nothing more. The moment I stepped onto the private jet, a familiar scent enveloped me. This was the jet Grandfather had gifted me on my tenth birthday. Even the interior decor was exactly as I’d left it. Noticing my leg injury, the flight attendant thoughtfully covered me with a blanket. Just before the jet took off, my phone suddenly rang. It was Brooke. "Alex, what is the meaning of this?! And why did you clear out all your stuff?! What, are you running away from home now?! I already told you, there’s nothing going on with Kyle and me! Stop making a scene, you’re exhausting me…" Outside, clouds drifted lazily, but my weariness remained. After a long pause, I replied, my voice hoarse, "I’m tired too. So, let’s break up. You and Kyle can have a wonderful life. From now on, we have nothing to do with each other." With that, I hung up, and didn't wake until the plane touched down ten hours later. Back home, Grandfather was already waiting at the door, leaning on his cane. The moment he saw me, he delivered a resounding slap across my face. "So, you finally decided to come back! You abandoned an old man like me in the States for three years, all for a woman, completely disregarding me!" The slap was loud, but I felt no pain on my face. I knew Grandfather had held back. After so many years away, he, an old man, was surely seething inside. I bent my knees, dropping to the floor, and bowed deeply, touching my forehead to the ground. "Grandfather, I was wrong. From now on, your grandson will stay by your side, never straying again." At that bow, Grandfather’s eyes suddenly reddened. He gestured to Mr. Sterling to help me up. "You’re hurt?" He squinted, noticing my unsteady movement as I stood. Seeing my obedient nod, his anger instantly dissipated. With a sweeping gesture, he immediately called for a wheelchair and pressed me into it. "You’re a grown man, but still so reckless! You’re staying in this wheelchair until your leg heals!" Grandfather’s voice was stern, but my nose stung, on the verge of tears. I knew he was worried about me. Mr. Sterling wheeled me back into the house. Three years I’d been gone. My room remained untouched, just as I’d left it. "Master Alex, you don’t know how heartbroken the Patriarch has been these past years without you," Mr. Sterling continued, his voice thick with emotion. "The year you first left, the Patriarch was so furious he wanted to throw out everything of yours in the house. But after we gathered your things, he made us put everything back exactly where it was. Though he never said it aloud, we all knew he just couldn't bear to let them go. Later, when you still didn’t return for so long, the Patriarch came here almost every night, just to sit." Mr. Sterling wiped away a tear. And my own tears, held back for so long, finally broke free. "How has Grandfather’s health been these past few years?" "The Patriarch’s health… it’s been the same, but…" He pressed his lips together, remaining silent for a long moment. I immediately sensed something was wrong. "I’m back now. What can’t you say?" After careful consideration, Mr. Sterling spoke. "Business has been tough these past few years. And those old rivals, it’s said they’ve made a resurgence in the last six months. The Patriarch hasn't had a decent night’s sleep because of this for a long time." Only then did it click for me. Grandfather first mentioned the arranged marriage six months ago! "So…" "Yes, Master Alex. You delayed for six months, and the Patriarch simply endured for six months…" Hearing that, a fresh wave of guilt washed over me. I slapped myself, hard, several times. "Master Alex, don’t do that…" Mr. Sterling rushed forward to stop me, gripping my hand, pleading. "Mr. Sterling, don’t stop me. I deserve this! Grandfather raised me single-handedly, yet after I finished my education, I left him, a man in his sixties, to fight alone. I’m utterly despicable!" Thinking this, I wanted to slap myself again, but Grandfather, who had just pushed open the door, stopped me. "Since you’ve been so disobedient, you’ll come with me tomorrow to meet your fiancée! Don’t you dare disappoint me again this time." Grandfather stood in the doorway, leaning on his cane. His snow-white hair was neatly combed behind his ears. This time, I meekly lowered my head and obeyed. After seeing Grandfather back to his room, I realized my phone was still off. Upon turning it on, a flood of messages deluged me. Texts, missed calls, messenger app notifications… Brooke had apparently tried every single app she could to reach me. The most recent message was from three minutes ago. She’d drafted a lengthy rant, condemning my sudden disappearance. But at that moment, I had no desire to read it. I opened every app, blocking her account one by one. Just as I deleted her last account, a call squeezed its way onto my screen. It was Brooke. After a long hesitation, I answered. The longer you linger in a relationship, the messier it gets. It was better to use this opportunity to sever ties completely. The moment the call connected, Brooke's distraught voice crackled through the receiver. "Alex! Why did you block all my accounts?! Do you have any idea how frantic I’ve been?! I borrowed everyone’s phone just to reach you!" I remained silent. Brooke took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. "I know you’re angry about Kyle, but I’ve already told him it’s over, we’re done. Please, come back. I know I messed up. Don’t leave me. I swear, if you come back, we’ll get married!" She pleaded desperately, crying like a helpless little girl. Her usual assertive demeanor vanished, revealing a vulnerable, 'little woman' side. But it was too late. My love for her had completely eroded. Now, all I wanted was to ease Grandfather’s burdens, even if it meant sacrificing my own lifelong happiness. "Brooke, I’ve already accepted the arranged marriage my family set up for me. Please, don’t bother me again." My voice was level, but Brooke shattered. "You’re lying! You said you’d only ever marry me! You said you’d only get married to me! You can’t just go back on your word!" She shrieked, like an unreasonable child. I sighed deeply. "Yes, I did say I’d only marry you. But didn’t you already give me your answer at that celebration party?" Brooke froze, recalling her own words, and instantly stammered. "You… you know French now?" I managed a bitter, twisted smile. "The first time you looked down on me for not understanding French, I went and learned it. You just never bothered to notice the change." Brooke was instantly speechless. She’d minored in French during her studies in the States. So when I accompanied her to meet her classmates, they all conversed in French. As an economics major, I felt completely out of place among them. That was also the first time Brooke had ever made me feel inadequate. To fit into her social circle, I began teaching myself French. But after that, Brooke never took me to meet her friends again. She said it was for my own good. Because of the language barrier, she was worried I'd feel too awkward as an outsider. I tried to explain, even spoke to her directly in French in front of her. But with a single dismissive comment – 'just showing off' – she negated all my efforts. Brooke clearly remembered all that had transpired before. "I really was thinking of you back then. I was worried you’d feel isolated, so I just…" She stammered incoherently, trying to defend herself, but I cut her off with a single sentence. "Enough, Brooke. Just stop. I know you didn’t want me to meet your classmates because of Kyle." Brooke fell silent once more. I knew about Kyle’s existence from the very beginning. Kyle was Brooke's classmate from college back home, and he’d also come to the States to study the same major as her. Before she met me, they’d had a passionate, tumultuous romance. Anyone could have found that out with a little digging. Plus, Brooke was terrible at hiding her affection. Even when Kyle simply stood before her, her adoration would spill from her eyes. That’s why, every time I met Kyle, every time we clashed, she’d predictably chosen him every single time. With her deepest secret exposed by me, Brooke finally spoke the truth. "Yes, I like Kyle, but anyone with eyes can see he’s only after my money. So I never considered marrying him. I only ever wanted to marry you. We’ve been together for so many years. You can’t just walk away." "But that’s no excuse for cheating." My voice grew colder, tearing away her last shred of pretense. "And you only wanted to marry me because I could make you money, and my family background was the pinnacle you could reach after weighing all your options. But Brooke, love isn’t something you weigh pros and cons against. From now on, I will be the absolute best you’ll ever find, and you will be the absolute lowest standard I’ve ever had in a relationship." Brooke didn't reply, but I heard a pounding on her end of the line. It was Kyle. "Brooke, open the door! Don’t ignore me! Alex may not want you, but I still do! You don’t have to be heartbroken over that two-timing jerk! He’s already planning to marry someone else!" The moment I heard Kyle’s voice, my anger flared anew. I hung up, then took out my SIM card and snapped it in two. After all, from this moment on, I wanted no ties to the people or things of my past.
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