After Julian gave me the silent treatment for the ninety-ninth time, I finally saw him reach out. He sent a message, a peace offering, inviting me to witness a surprise tonight. My mind immediately conjured the joy that had lately been etched on his face, and the diamond ring I’d glimpsed beneath his pillow. Instinctively, I thought he was finally going to propose. I dressed meticulously and went to the appointed place. But when I pushed open the door, I saw his childhood sweetheart, Chloe, clinking glasses with him, their arms entwined in a classic toast. A giant screen behind them blazed with the words: “Welcome Home, My Princess Chloe.” Julian had told me that Chloe, in a drunken stupor, had given herself to him, and the emotional toll had left her with a delicate heart. And I, a "used woman," dared to dream of surprises. Since he was so obsessed with "firsts," then let him experience losing everything for the very first time. 1 Amidst the cheering crowd, Julian and Chloe drank from intertwined glasses, his face alight with a sweetness I’d never seen directed at me. Dressed like a princess myself, I instantly felt like an awkward clown, rooted to the spot, unable to advance or retreat. Chloe spotted me, stamping her foot with a childish pout. “Aurora, are you deliberately trying to ruin my welcome-home party?” So Julian’s big surprise was her return. “What are you doing here? You’re such a buzzkill.” “Chloe, ignore her. I probably sent the group message to everyone. Look, do you like this gift?” Julian knelt on one knee, pulling a small box from his jacket with an air of profound reverence. It was the ring I’d seen. The next second, he slipped it onto Chloe’s left ring finger. Everything before my eyes was an exact replica of the proposal scene I’d dreamed of. I had waited five years, hinting to Julian countless times. But on the very last day of our fifth anniversary, I watched, heartbroken, as Julian placed the ring on another woman’s hand. Julian’s friends came over, playfully teasing him. He just scowled. “Having a girlfriend who’s always spying on my schedule, I’ve had the worst luck imaginable.” Under the mocking stares of the crowd, I made a clumsy exit. Chloe triumphantly smashed her empty glass at my feet, the shards instantly embedding themselves in my calf. It was our fifth anniversary, after all. I thought Julian would surely chase after me, to explain, to apologize. But he didn’t. He only sent me a text message. “Aurora, don’t make a scene here. You’re embarrassing me.” “Chloe is back, and I just want her to be happy. She’s not like you; she gave her first time to me. I can’t be responsible for her, but I should definitely compensate her more.” Before Julian, I’d had a previous relationship, something he had constantly held against me. Even though I’d poured my everything into him, caring for him meticulously, none of it measured up to that single, fleeting moment Chloe had given him. Even if that “first time” was a drunken accident. But Chloe’s heart had been "unwell" ever since that incident, so Julian’s "compensation" to her was endless. Above that message in my phone, a text from my adoptive mother brought a bittersweet ache. “Seeing my darling daughter settled brings peace to my heart. Mom has fulfilled her mission. Don’t worry, darling, Mom will hold on with her last breath to attend your wedding.” I had grown up in an orphanage, only experiencing the warmth of family after my adoptive mother took me in. But she was gravely ill, with little time left. My future, my finding a partner, was her only remaining concern in this world. So, when I thought Julian was going to propose, I had eagerly shared the good news with her, hoping to ease her mind. But now… I looked at the cuts on my calf, the pain too deep for words. I had intended to ask Julian if he’d forgotten that today marked our five-year anniversary. But now, it was pointless. That ring I’d waited five years for? I didn’t want it anymore. And him? I didn’t want him either. 2 By the time Julian returned home, the living room clock had chimed midnight. Our five-year anniversary was over. He woke me, handing me a drink. “Alright, stop pretending to sleep. I know you’re wide awake.” “This is from Chloe. See how generous she is? When will you be as considerate as her?” I forced my eyes open, wincing at the harsh light, and glanced at the drink. It was a Mango Sago dessert. But he seemed to have forgotten again: I’m allergic to mangoes. This very cold war had started because one of his friends at dinner had insisted I eat mango, and Julian, instead of stopping them, had told me not to be rude. I was angry he didn’t care about me; he was angry I was being difficult. I took a deep breath, suppressing the bitter taste of injustice. “My mom is getting worse. She wants to see you one last time. She asked if you’re free tomorrow afternoon.” I hadn’t dared tell my adoptive mother the truth; I feared she couldn't bear it. Likewise, I still wanted to give Julian one last chance, for the sake of our five years together and for my adoptive mother. Julian instinctively blurted out, “I’m busy. I have to be with…” Before he finished, he suddenly seemed to remember something, a hint of guilt in his voice. “Got it. I’ll make time tomorrow.” “And, Aurora, you don’t need to be so paranoid. I don’t even care that you’re not a virgin, so there’s no need for you to be hostile towards Chloe.” “You know, I accidentally touched her when I was drunk back then.” I didn’t want to speak. I just raised my hand and turned off the bedroom light. The bedroom ceiling was a custom-made star-field ceiling Julian had installed. Every time Julian gave me the silent treatment after an argument, I’d add a diamond to the star field. Five years, and I’d added too many. The ceiling was so bright now, it made it hard to sleep. As I was drifting off, Julian received a call and rushed out. I didn't question it. I just sent him a text the next morning, reminding him not to forget about the hospital visit. My adoptive mother was in her final rally, her frail hand trembling as she pulled out the shares she’d left for me. “These funds should rightfully be yours, dear, but Julian’s career is on the rise. This is all Mom can do to help him. As long as he treats you well in the future…” I found it hard to believe. The shares my adoptive mother had guarded her entire life, she now wanted to transfer entirely to Julian, simply so he would treat me well. My adoptive mother held my hand, reluctant to let go, giving me countless instructions. She said she wanted to personally arrange some things with Julian. But she waited until nightfall, until her eyes finally closed for good, and Julian never came. I handled her funeral arrangements alone. Finally, Julian called. “Something urgent came up at the company. I’ll personally cook for you tomorrow as an apology.” Before I could speak, I heard a sweet, syrupy voice in the background. “Julian, I’m thirsty! I want that one.” The call was abruptly disconnected. I pondered for a moment, then proactively messaged my adoptive mother’s business partner. “I want to take over Mom’s projects.” 3 My adoptive mother had always wanted me to have my own career after she was gone, so she had arranged a path for me to go abroad. Before, I hesitated because I couldn't let go of her and Julian. Now… I had no ties left. When Julian came home, I was packing my luggage. He didn't notice anything amiss. He casually handed me a handmade ceramic piece. “A gift for you.” I remembered the social media post Chloe had made, showing her smiling radiantly at some exquisite handmade ceramics. The caption read, “He made it himself. So much better than my clumsy attempts.” So I recognized it immediately: what Julian gave me was just one of Chloe’s botched “clumsy attempts.” “You don’t like it?” Julian scoffed. “Chloe is innocent and not a gold-digger. Women your age, having experienced the world, naturally care more about money.” Julian emphasized the phrase “experienced the world,” a thinly veiled jab at my past relationship, implying I hadn't remained "pure" for him. “You can’t find fault with this gift, can you?” Julian said, taking out a jewelry box. It was from my favorite brand. Not long ago, I’d casually complained to Julian that I really liked a necklace from their collection, but it was a limited edition, hard to find anywhere in the country. My heart lurched. To say I wasn't expectant would be a lie. I cautiously opened the jewelry box, before I could even see what was inside. “Oh, does Sister Aurora like these girlish things too?” It was Chloe. She had come back with Julian. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I turned to her. “Didn’t you say your heart was delicate after that incident? What? Now that you’re a mistress, your heart feels fine?” My words had barely left my lips when Julian slapped me hard across the face. Julian’s hateful glare sent shivers down my spine. Combined with the searing pain in my head, the world spun, and I nearly blacked out. 4 When I came to, Julian seemed to regret it. He wanted to approach me, but after a moment’s hesitation, he still turned to comfort Chloe. “I’m fine, Julian. Thank you for the necklace, it’s beautiful.” “Why didn’t you go home?” Chloe’s clear laughter echoed through the living room. “Hmph, because she deliberately ruined my welcome-home party.” After Julian had comforted Chloe, he took her home. When he returned, I was curled up on the sofa, sweating and crying. The familiar pain brought back a flood of memories. My face was ashen, my forehead beaded with sweat, and my entire body trembled. “Aurora? Are you okay? I… I didn’t mean to just now. Chloe is young, don’t hold it against her.” Seeing my lack of response, Julian, fearing something serious, drove me to the hospital. Those icy memories and the feeling of profound loss clung to me, refusing to dissipate. I trembled in the passenger seat, feeling as if I might suffocate at any moment. Julian’s eyes finally showed a flicker of concern, his voice softening. “I’m sorry, Aurora. I was impulsive. Just hold on a little longer. We’ll be at the hospital soon.” Julian’s low voice, tinged with tenderness, slowly pulled me back from the brink of overwhelming fear. Just as I was about to calm down, Julian suddenly slammed on the brakes. 5 My forehead hit the ornament on the dashboard, the one designated “Princess Chloe’s Special Seat.” Julian looked at the message on his phone, his brows furrowed tightly, his gaze at me filled with internal conflict. “You can take a taxi to the hospital yourself. Chloe’s heart is bothering her again.” Seeing me sitting unresponsive in the passenger seat, Julian pushed me out of the car without another word. “You’re a grown woman; you’ll be fine. I’ll come to the hospital to see you. If anything happens to Chloe, I’d be the one to blame.” The car sped away, leaving me standing on the deserted street, a little lost. The familiar darkness and past terrors made me shiver, I didn't dare wait for a taxi there. Dragging my injured calf, I ran wildly until I saw people, then finally relaxed. In that moment, the tightly stretched string inside me snapped. I stood on the busy street, sobbing uncontrollably. I was angry that Julian had abandoned me halfway, angry that he indulged Chloe’s insults, angry that he didn’t buy the spacious apartment I wanted, but instead, to fulfill Chloe’s wish, changed our wedding home to a suburban villa. I was angry that between me and Chloe, he chose Chloe again and again… Five years. I had accumulated far too much resentment. After I cried, I took a taxi to the hospital for a full check-up. My head was fine, but I was severely traumatized. The doctor gave me medication to relieve stress. I took a photo of the prescription and sent it to my adoptive mother’s business partner, postponing my trip abroad. I also promised him that I would handle everything before my injuries healed, and it wouldn't delay my work. His reply came quickly: “Don’t burden yourself too much. You are excellent. Rest well and take care of yourself.” This was the only concern and affirmation I had received in a long time. I sent Julian a breakup text. I took a taxi back to pack my luggage, preparing to leave this place that used to be our home. To my surprise, Julian was home, and he had cooked a table full of dishes. He smiled at me, his gaze lingering on the medicine in my hand for a moment before quickly moving away. “Aurora, I promised I’d cook for you to apologize. Don’t be mad anymore. Let’s go pick up Mom and have dinner.” I walked straight to the bedroom, pulled out my suitcase, and looked at him, my eyes red. “But my mom… she’s gone.” Julian froze.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "392714", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel