I always thought that choosing him as my first love meant I’d never have any regrets, even if we eventually broke up. So, I chased after Felix Vance with everything I had. Eventually, I won him over. He agreed to date me, but with three strict rules: We only date, we never marry, and the day we graduate college, we break up. I happily agreed. We were together for three years, living out the absolute pinnacle of a college romance. But on graduation day, when I initiated the breakup... He backed out. I was shocked and horrified. "Didn't we have a deal? We break up at graduation!" I remember clearly how that conversation ended. We crashed and burned. Felix, a man who had always kept his head held high in arrogant pride, lowered it. He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Harper Quinn, you better pray our paths never cross again." From that day on, I avoided him like the plague. But unfortunately, God loves a good joke. The world is too small, and eventually, people are bound to run into each other again. 01 Felix and I tacitly adhered to an unspoken rule throughout our relationship. We were strictly a campus couple. The moment we stepped off campus—like during holidays or breaks—we went our separate ways and zero contact was made. During those days of silence, he was the famous heir of the Vance empire in New York City, and I was just nobody Harper Quinn from Columbus, Ohio. We didn't text, we didn't call, and we didn't ask about each other's whereabouts. It was as if we were both entirely single. I always thought this weird, niche relationship dynamic would last right up until our graduation breakup. However, the summer after our sophomore year was unusually long—a full eighty days. Before leaving campus, Felix asked me, "Will you miss me?" I hugged him and pouted playfully. "Mhm. I'll miss you so, so much." He pulled me into his chest, kissed the top of my head, and didn't say anything stupid like, "Call me if you miss me." I always appreciated that rational, pragmatic side of Felix. He came from a powerful, elite family. His future wife would undoubtedly be chosen from the same high-society circles. We both knew perfectly well that we had no future together. The reason he dated me was probably just to experience a pure, uncomplicated college romance. And I just happened to fit his exact taste in girlfriends. On campus, Felix was my boyfriend. Off campus, when he became the untouchable Mr. Vance, he didn't want my existence interfering with his real life. I respected his boundaries, played along perfectly, and never once crossed the line. At the time, I never expected that Felix would be the one to break his own rules. That summer break was too long. He text me saying he was heading back to campus early—a full month ahead of our agreed-upon return date. I was surprised when I got the message. I teased him, "Why are you going back so early? Did you miss me?" He didn't reply to that message. But after that, whenever there was a long break, Felix would ask, "Want to go on a trip together?" Most of the time, I happily agreed. We visited many cities together. We watched the stars in the desert and the sunset on tropical islands. Whenever I was admiring the scenery, I was usually very focused, so I’d always get startled by Felix suddenly kissing me out of nowhere. He loved cupping my face and kissing me from a dominant, downward angle. It was a very aggressive posture. When it came to physical intimacy, Felix liked to take control; he liked me to be the one forced to endure it. However, every time we reached the critical moment, I would kill the mood and tell him to stop. Felix’s eyes would be dark with lust, his Adam's apple bobbing with suppressed need. He wouldn't argue. He would just raise an eyebrow and ask, "What's wrong?" My answer was always the same: "I don't want to." Even when desire was clawing at him and he was covered in a thin layer of sweat, as long as I said stop, he would always control himself. He would go into the bathroom, take a freezing cold shower, come back out, hold me, and just sleep. As my rejections piled up, Felix seemed to catch on to what I was thinking. Whenever things started to get too heated, he didn't even wait for me to say no. He would consciously get up and go take a cold shower. There was only one exception. That day, he saw a text message from a guy friend pop up on my phone. He asked, "Who is this?" I didn't hide it from him. "He's a friend from back home in Ohio." He didn't say anything else at the time. But that night, his attitude became forceful. I pushed him away. He pinned my wrists above my head against the headboard and kept going. I dodged his kisses, emphasizing, "Felix, I don't want to!" "Why don't you want to?" he demanded. "Is it because of that 'friend' from Ohio?" He was normally such a proud, composed guy, but when he got jealous, he was as unreasonable and impossible to soothe as a rabid dog. I never explicitly spelled it out, but Felix probably knew the truth. The reason I didn't want to take that final step with him was because I knew he wouldn't be the man standing beside me in the end. I didn't want the bond between us to become too deep. Felix was a gentleman. He understood my boundaries and never forced me to do anything against my will. It was just that, every time we got intimately tangled up after that, it felt like he was competing with an invisible rival, dragging the tension out to agonizing lengths. 02 The spring semester of our senior year arrived. The day we had agreed to break up was rapidly approaching. The thought of ending the relationship made me feel a genuine pang of reluctance. To spare myself future pain, I started mentally preparing for the separation early, practicing detachment. For our trip that year, Felix planned a trip to the UK. On our second day in Kent, while I was still jet-lagged and half-asleep, a group of people burst into my hotel room. I was forcibly wrestled into a wedding dress, given flawless bridal makeup, and ushered out of the hotel and into a waiting horse-drawn carriage. I have no idea when Felix managed to arrange all of this. He and I held a wedding ceremony at Canterbury Cathedral, officiated personally by a priest. There were no guests. Just him and me. It was an unacknowledged, secret wedding. It wasn't until the moment we exchanged rings that I finally understood why he had inexplicably demanded a ring from me for his birthday that year. It turned out it was only so that, in this very moment of exchanging vows, I would actually have a ring to give him. It was a legally invalid wedding. We both knew that perfectly well. But that night, as Felix, breathing heavily, started to pull away to take his customary cold shower, I grabbed him. I pulled him down onto the bed and kissed him fiercely. His entire body shuddered. His voice cracked as he gasped, "Harper Quinn." I playfully scolded, "It's our wedding night, Felix. Don't be such a buzzkill." Whatever. I thought to myself, I don't care where his future takes him. For today, and today only, I, Harper Quinn, am Felix Vance's bride. I allowed myself this one indulgence. Just this once. But I thought it would be just once. It ended up being many, many times. Some boundaries, once crossed, leave you with no solid ground to stand on. You just keep breaking them, retreating step by step until you surrender completely. Felix and I both lost control. The brakes completely failed. I told myself, Just treat it as a final, reckless indulgence before the countdown ends. Leave some crazy memories behind. At least I made the most of my time with Felix Vance. I wasn't sure exactly when Felix was going to initiate the breakup. After all, our original agreement was just: date, don't marry, break up at graduation. It didn't specify an exact date. I lived in a state of agonizing suspense for a while, but he never brought it up. My flight back to Ohio was already booked. I couldn't drag it out any longer. Felix and I needed a formal goodbye. I proactively asked him out to a quiet restaurant near campus and initiated the breakup. I had imagined how Felix would react. I figured he would maintain his usual style—accept it with breezy indifference, and then, like a perfect gentleman, say a polite goodbye. I never expected that he would look at me quietly and say, "No." My brain didn't process it fast enough. I stared at him blankly. "What do you mean, 'no'?" He stared deeply into my eyes. "Harper Quinn, I don't want to break up." 03 My mind suddenly dissolved into chaos. Felix was absolutely not the type to go back on his word. He always honored his promises; his word was gold. So, I had been firmly convinced that our breakup was set in stone. I never, in my wildest dreams, expected him to back out. When did he change his mind? I hadn't noticed a single clue. Panic started to set in. Because I had genuinely never considered continuing a future with Felix. Breaking up at graduation—to me, that agreement was a win-win scenario. Felix's last-minute change of heart caught me completely off guard. I couldn't speak. I could only stare at him in stunned disbelief. My reaction was probably drastically different from what he had anticipated. A rare note of urgency bled into his voice. "I know what you're worried about." "Harper, give me five years." "In five years, I promise, the Vance family will never interfere with my marriage." "When that time comes, we'll hold a new wedding. We'll invite all our friends and family to witness it. We'll get the official, legally binding marriage certificate from City Hall, and we'll proudly announce to the world that we belong only to each other." "Harper," he asked me, "What do you say?" Faced with his earnest, desperate plea, I felt incredibly guilty. My eyes darted around the room, avoiding his gaze. I braced myself and stammered out, "Didn't... didn't we have an agreement? We break up at graduation." Felix was visibly stunned. He asked, almost unconsciously, "What?" Things had escalated to this point. If I didn't make myself crystal clear, it would only lead to more misunderstandings. I took a deep breath and said bluntly, "I want to break up." Felix's gaze snapped to mine like a physical weapon, sharp enough to cause actual pain. He rested his arms casually on the dining table, staring straight at me, his entire body radiating a terrifying, suffocating aura. "Why?" That single word carried a faint trace of deadness. It felt like, rather than seeking an answer to his confusion, he wanted to hear the brutal truth straight from my mouth. I had never felt this kind of oppressive pressure from Felix before. Adopting a 'rip the band-aid off' mentality, I spilled every single thought I had been holding back. "Because we don't match." "I don't have grand ambitions. I just want to eat well, sleep well, and live a comfortable, easy life." "I don't want to be bullied and scrutinized because of a massive class divide." "And I definitely don't want to exhaust myself trying to navigate complex, high-society family politics." "Once I marry you, all of that is inevitable." "So, the truth is, I never actually planned on continuing this relationship with you in the future." By the end of my speech, my voice had dropped to a whisper. I suddenly realized that, compared to Felix, I was actually the cruel one. He had been meticulously plotting out our future, while I had been carefully calculating my own gains and losses. It was as if... on our shared battlefield, he was determined to fight to the death for us. While I had packed my bags and prepared my escape route ages ago. And I had absolutely no intention of looking back. "I've made myself clear," I said, scrambling to my feet. Like a coward fleeing the scene, I hastily threw out one last sentence: "I'm leaving. Take care of yourself." I turned around. My arm was grabbed. His grip was like iron, stubbornly refusing to let go. My heart pounding with panic, I looked back. Felix remained seated at the table, looking up at me. A man so incredibly proud, yet right now he looked like he had been left out in the freezing rain, radiating a bone-chilling cold. He asked, "If you never intended to have a future with me, why did you give yourself to me?" My breath hitched. I ripped my arm out of his grasp and faked a breezy tone. "Wow, I can't believe you actually care about that? I really don't care that much." He looked like he had been stung. The light in his eyes shattered and wavered. Then, he twitched the corner of his mouth, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. He let go of me and slowly stood up from his chair. His towering frame instantly engulfed me in shadow. He stood perfectly straight, refusing to bend, only lowering his eyelids to look down at me. "Harper Quinn, you better pray our paths never cross again. Because if they do, I don't know what I might do to you." My face remained blank, but my palms were drenched in sweat. I felt a pang of regret. I never should have provoked him. That day, I fled the restaurant like a complete mess, running back to Ohio without ever looking back. From then on, even when traveling, I deliberately avoided New York City. I thought I would never see Felix Vance again in this lifetime. But in the end, human plans are no match for fate... 04 My cousin married into a wealthy family and invited me to her wedding. The wedding was in New York City. When I saw the location, I flat-out declined the invitation. However, when the groom's family was vetting the guest list for the bride's side, they circled only one name—mine—deeming me the only one "qualified" to make an appearance. In other words, the bride's own parents weren't even allowed to attend their daughter's wedding. My cousin's mother, my aunt, came to my house personally to beg me. She pleaded with me to act as the sole representative of the bride's family, to "hold up appearances" for my cousin. I was forced to accept this absurd mission. We were put up in a luxury hotel. My cousin was to be married out of the hotel the next day. The night before the wedding, a young girl added my cousin on social media and sent her over a dozen intimate photos of herself with the groom-to-be, along with a video clip. At a mansion thirty miles outside the city, a "Final Bachelor Party" was in full swing. Men and women, scantily clad and easy on the eyes, were partying hard. In the video, the seductive young girl was sweetly making out with the groom. My cousin calmly locked her phone screen, called me and the other six bridesmaids over, and said, "Let's go. We're going to a party." I never expected to see Felix again. New York City was massive, after all. I thought, What are the chances? It had been four years, and the very first time I set foot in New York, I would bump right into him? But God really loves a good joke. My cousin went there to establish dominance. Without a moment of hesitation, she slapped the young girl across the face. The girl, furious and refusing to back down, tried to look to the groom for backup. She quickly realized he was just standing there, grinning, with zero intention of stepping in. The groom’s name was Nathan Thorne. What the girl didn't know was that my cousin and Nathan had set three ground rules before getting married. No matter how much Nathan screwed around outside, my cousin had to turn a blind eye. The only exception was if his side pieces dared to provoke her to her face. If she disciplined them, Nathan was not allowed to interfere. The girl had severely miscalculated her importance in Nathan's heart. My cousin grabbed her by the hair and literally threw her out the door. Nathan acted like nothing had happened. He casually closed the door, happily wrapped his arm around my cousin's waist, and told her, "Don't cause a scene. Since you're here, come say hi to Felix." My cousin had just finished a brawl. Her collar was torn open, her hair a tangled mess. She calmly smoothed herself out and said, "Alright. Let me freshen up, I'll be right there." Nathan left her and headed over first. Over in that area sat a table of people. Handsome men and beautiful women, all incredibly polished. I couldn't tell if they were playing a board game or just chatting. Overall, compared to the raucous noise by the pool, that area seemed quiet. My cousin glanced in that direction, then sneakily gathered the bridesmaids close, whispering conspiratorially, "See that table? Aside from the guy sitting dead center, the rest of them are pretty decent targets." Curious, I looked over at the guy sitting in the center. With one glance, I froze. It took me a long time to pull my gaze away. I saw him. He didn't see me. It was Felix Vance. The Felix Vance who was four years older than my memory of him. He had shed the raw youth of his college days. His features were deeper, more composed, and he radiated an aura of overwhelming, distinguished elegance. Among the bridesmaids, the most strikingly beautiful girl immediately felt a pang of indignation when her eyes landed on him. She asked my cousin, "Why not him?" My cousin tugged on the girl's arm, her tone unusually serious and stern. "Him? We can't reach that high. Don't even harbor delusional fantasies, unless you want to bring disaster upon yourself." The girl's name was Chloe. She had a haughty personality, but hearing this, she gave a quiet "Oh," seemingly taking the advice to heart. 05 I used my lack of social skills as an excuse to avoid going over to say hello. "Are you crazy?" My cousin grabbed me and dragged me forward. "With your looks, you need to be meeting more elite bachelors!" She acted like a thug. Terrified of making a scene, I hastily compromised. I followed behind her, trying to remain invisible as we approached the table. My cousin called Felix "Mr. Vance," greeting him with perfect, respectful etiquette. Felix was, as always, the picture of a perfect gentleman. Though... it wasn't exactly the same. There was a heavy sense of detachment about him now. It made people feel like he was easygoing, but in reality, incredibly unapproachable. My cousin smiled radiantly. "If I had known you were here, Mr. Vance, I would have brought my girls over to hang out much earlier." Chloe flawlessly caught the cue. She greeted Felix with poised confidence, following my cousin's lead. "Hello, Mr. Vance~" Felix lifted his eyes and gave her a passing glance. His smile was razor-thin. A young man sitting nearby chimed in to smooth things over. "Not many people get to call him that so casually, sweetheart. You better stick with calling him Mr. Vance like the rest of us." Chloe playfully stuck her tongue out and gracefully apologized, "My apologies, Mr. Vance." I silently praised her high emotional intelligence in my head. She effortlessly diffused the awkwardness, but then my cousin suddenly spoke up: "Mr. Vance, this is my cousin, Harper Quinn." As she spoke, she stepped to the side, fully exposing me hiding behind her. The space in front of me suddenly cleared, and several pairs of eyes landed on me. The gaze shooting straight at me from the front was exceptionally sharp. Almost the instant he looked over, I felt a suffocating, aggressive pressure wash over me. Knowing I couldn't hide, I slowly raised my eyes and looked back, meeting that familiar yet strangely foreign face. I clenched my fists, forcing a calm demeanor, and smiled. "Hello, Mr. Vance~" Felix's lips pressed into a tight, strained line. He stared at me, not saying a single word. His entire demeanor became terrifyingly cold and severe. The atmosphere wasn't terrible, actually. We were both just hiding it very well. No one noticed that anything was wrong between us. My cousin continued introducing her other friends. The bridesmaids were actively trying to blend into the table's conversation. Felix's friends were quite friendly, giving my cousin face, and the vibe remained lively. Until Felix suddenly called out, "Harper Quinn." He called my name out of nowhere. His voice wasn't loud. But it instantly silenced the entire area. My heart gave a violent, uncontrollable jolt, and I instinctively looked at him. He sat on the sofa, leaning his head back to look up at me. His face was devoid of any emotion. From his throat, he slowly spat out four words. He said, "Long time no see." Then, there was a pin-drop silence. It felt like seconds ticked by before my cousin, shocked, found her voice. "Harper, you and Mr. Vance... you know each other?" The question was finally laid bare in front of me in public. I was speechless. I meticulously filtered through my thoughts before giving an answer: "We went to the same college." Felix hadn't taken his eyes off me. Hearing my response, his body visibly stiffened. He stood up from the sofa and walked slowly toward me, step by step. He didn't move fast, but he carried a heavy, suffocating aura, like a dark thundercloud crackling with lightning. He stopped right in front of me and asked, his voice dripping with self-mockery: "So, I don't even qualify as an ex-boyfriend?"
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