The hottest post on the campus forum was about me. Its title: 【Did Eric Voss and Summer Hayes Break Up Today?】 It was filled with candid photos of me, and under each one, a stream of insults. Lapdog. Shameless. Leech. Eric never bothered with it. He told me not to care about what others thought. But later, when his first love was exposed online for being a homewrecker, he hacked the entire website down. That day, the campus post updated. For the first time, I replied. 【Did Eric Voss and Summer Hayes Break Up Today?】 【Yeah, we broke up.】 1 On the seventh day of my boyfriend’s silent treatment, I ran into him in the upscale neighborhood where I tutored. He was juggling two large bags. One was bursting with fresh vegetables and fruits, the other filled with household essentials: paper towels, toothpaste, things like that. He seemed surprised to see me, too, but not flustered, not in the way I’d imagined he would be. Instead, he simply gestured for me to follow him upstairs. That’s when I first met the girl everyone whispered about. “She had surgery,” he explained, his voice low, lacking his usual crispness. “No one to look after her. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to overthink it.” My gaze drifted to the two pairs of matching couple’s slippers by the door. No, I definitely wasn’t overthinking anything. Anya Carter, the girl in question, looked startled to see me. She tried to sit up quickly, almost tumbling off the bed. Eric, dropping the bags he held, immediately rushed to her side, his hands gently supporting her shoulders. His brow was furrowed with an almost agonizing concern. I stood rooted in the doorway, unable to move. “I’m fine,” Anya murmured, her voice soft. “Please, Eric, let your guest in.” Guest. Right. That’s what I was. Eric busied himself in the kitchen, washing vegetables. It seemed dinner was to be hotpot, but what was originally meant for two now included me. For me, they even used disposable chopsticks. “I’m so sorry,” Anya said, her gaze apologetic. “I don’t have any friends here, so I had no choice but to trouble Eric. I didn’t know he hadn’t told you. I’ve already scolded him, really. Please don’t be mad at him. He’s such a typical guy, completely oblivious to these things.” I offered a faint, unreadable smile, saying nothing. We ate in silence. Afterward, Eric walked me out. Under the dim, flickering streetlights, our two shadows stretched long and close. Yet, we felt worlds apart. “Are you angry?” he asked, breaking the silence. I didn’t answer. “She’ll be fine in two weeks; she won’t need me then,” he continued, his voice calm, almost clinical. “I was going to tell you everything once this was over. I just... I was afraid you’d make a scene.” “What kind of surgery heals in half a month?” I asked, my voice flat, devoid of any discernible emotion. “An abortion. It had nothing to do with me, so don’t misunderstand.” “I know it had nothing to do with you,” I replied, my gaze meeting his. “It was a married man’s.” The words were barely out of my mouth before he seized my wrist, his grip so tight I winced in pain. “You investigated her?” “No need to investigate,” I said, looking directly into his furious eyes. “The website you hacked? It laid everything out quite clearly.” He glared at me, speechless for a long moment. I had never seen him look like this. “You stalked me, and I said nothing,” he finally managed, his voice low and dangerous. “But this, Summer, you’ve gone too far.” Stalked? Since he’d disappeared, I hadn’t even looked for him. Where did he get that idea? When I remained silent, he finally released my wrist, sighing. “There’s nothing between us, Summer. You don’t need to target her. I won’t pursue this matter, and I suggest you let it go, too.” He hailed a taxi, opening the door for me. I obediently got in. As the car pulled away, I lowered the window and, with a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes, called out, "Eric Voss, let's stop here, too." 2 At 9 PM, with a strange, unsettling calm, I opened my laptop. 【Did Eric Voss and Summer Hayes Break Up Today?】 I posted a celebratory emoji—a shower of confetti—and then, typed my reply. 【Yeah, we broke up.】 The post exploded instantly, a far greater sensation than the day Eric and I started dating. Dozens of comments flooded in within seconds. 【Seriously?!】 【Must be true. Eric’s been gone for days. He definitely dumped Summer.】 【Girl, where did you hear that? If you don’t say anything, I’m gonna believe it.】 【That lapdog Summer finally got kicked to the curb?】 I clicked on her comment and replied. 【We really broke up. I’m that lapdog, Summer Hayes.】 After sending that, I closed my tablet. Even my phone was completely wiped clean. It felt... good. No more endless scrolling, no more agonizing over that thread. It could finally disappear. I’d never slept as soundly as I did that night. No longer did I worry about missing Eric’s calls. No longer did I fret about getting to the cafeteria early enough to snag his favorite soy milk. I wasn’t afraid of the girls who liked him coming to bother me anymore, and I certainly wasn’t afraid he’d suddenly break up with me. If only I had known. If only I had never liked him in the first place. 3 The day after we broke up, Eric, who had been absent for a week, appeared outside my dorm building. His face was unshaven, his hair unkempt, a picture of disarray. “Can we talk?” People passing by cast curious glances our way. When had Eric Voss ever looked so disheveled? Was it because of me? Probably not. We went to a coffee shop near campus—a place I’d chosen. They made a particularly delicious dessert that I’d tried to get Eric to try two or three times, but he’d always refused. I took a bite of the cake, feeling my mood lift slightly. “Why are you out?” I asked, my voice neutral. “Doesn’t she need constant care?” “Is that how you’re going to talk?” he retorted, his voice tight. “How… as in what way?” I genuinely just asked, without any particular nuance. I was, in fact, quite curious if Anya didn't need someone to look after her. He sighed, pushing his coffee cup aside. “I know you’re angry, but I also think you should know I didn’t do anything to betray you. I’m not going to sweet-talk you. So, I’ll ask you seriously, one more time: are we breaking up?” My small cake was half-eaten, the heart-shaped design on top mangled, only a corner remaining. I simply poked it to bits. “It’s not ‘are we breaking up,’ Eric. We already have broken up.” Eric’s face was colder than the iced Americano in front of him. He pulled out his phone right there, in front of me, and deleted my contact information. “I hope you don’t regret this,” he said, then stood up. As he walked past me, I caught the edge of his sleeve. Looking up, I caught a fleeting, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. He seemed to have misunderstood something. I looked at him with utmost seriousness. “As my ex-boyfriend, this meal should be split, fifty-fifty.” 4 My roommate, Chloe, refused to believe that Eric and I had actually broken up. She badgered me with questions. “What if he comes back begging you to get back together?” “If you really did break up, are you sure you… you won’t be overcome with grief, do something silly?” “You’re so calm right now, I’m scared…” Yes, why was I so calm after breaking up with Eric? Even I hadn’t anticipated this. Hadn’t I always believed I couldn’t live without him? Hadn’t I been willing to gamble my entire life for him, even change my major? I was an art student, I’d been painting for over a decade. Most of the guys in my field were similar: artistic, free-spirited, maybe a little eccentric. Eric, to me, was like a brand-new tube of paint, a color I’d never seen before. In art, there are no right answers, but in Eric’s world, everything had a solution. And it was always black and white. The answer to the ‘girlfriend’ equation also had only one solution. This person needed to go to the University of Seabreeze for graduate school with him, and they needed to work in Seabreeze City together. But the University of Seabreeze had no art department. To get into graduate school at Seabreeze University with Eric, I had to change my major. I ignored the advice of my teachers and friends, put down my paintbrush, gave up the opportunity to study abroad, and spent my days holed up in the library, studying academic subjects I absolutely detested. A friend once asked me, “Don’t you love painting? You’d throw it all away for a guy?” My rational mind told me he was right. But I was an art student, and I often wasn't very rational. My dizzying brain just wanted to be with Eric. For him, I could do anything. Chloe had called me "lovesick" more than once, saying my brain had been addled, cursed, and I’d never wake up. But when exactly did I wake up? I thought back carefully. Perhaps it was just one day, just one moment, when something struck me, and I suddenly understood. 5 That day was an accident. I didn’t go to the library. It was my birthday. He had promised it would be just the two of us. I woke up before dawn, spent two hours doing my makeup, and put on a dress I’d bought ages ago but never dared to wear. Everything felt perfect. But the moment I saw him, even before I reached his side, I watched him answer a call. He looked so tense he rushed off without even a greeting. I knew it had to be something urgent, otherwise he wouldn’t be like this, and I started to worry too. I tried to walk as fast as I could in my unfamiliar heels, heading after him. But I stumbled and twisted my ankle right behind him. I cried out in pain. He must have heard me, but he ran off without looking back. I called him, but he didn’t answer. No reply on social media either. The movie was missed, the date nonexistent. I couldn’t even find him. Not even his roommates knew where he’d gone. He didn’t return to the dorm that night, and I didn’t sleep a wink. My birthday passed in a blur of worry and fear. The next day, I found him at an internet cafe near the university. He stepped outside to take a call and didn’t see me. “I’ve hacked the site; don’t worry.” “Whether it’s illegal or not, it’s done. It has nothing to do with you. Just take care of yourself.” “What can Summer do if she finds out? If she causes you trouble, then we’ll just break up. Don’t worry about it. She likes me so much, she wouldn’t dare.” I stood with my back to him, hidden behind a signboard at the internet cafe’s entrance, hearing every single word. My heart clenched, and tears streamed down my face, unstoppable. So, the reason he could hurt me so casually was because of how much I liked him. He was certain that no matter what he did, I would tolerate him, forgive him. I didn't even need to ask to know who was on the other end of that call. He hacked an entire website for her, but he wouldn't even delete a single post for me.
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