He Told Me to Drop Dead, So I Did

When Mason asked for a breakup, I thought he was just throwing another tantrum. After all, everyone in the Upper East Side elite circle knew we had been childhood sweethearts, breaking up and making up for over a decade without ever truly severing ties. Too proud to be the first to beg for peace, I had my best friend text him, saying I had committed suicide. I didn't expect Mason's reply to her: [Tell her to drop dead! In fact, why didn't you go die with her!] At the exact same time, Mason’s grad-school mentee updated her Instagram story. "Spring is here. I was going to hire a male stripper for the night, but this gorgeous guy insisted on throwing himself at me. Saved me $500." The "stripper" wrapping his arms tightly around her neck in the photo was none other than Mason. When Mason asked for a breakup, I thought he was just throwing another tantrum. After all, everyone in the Upper East Side elite circle knew we had been childhood sweethearts, breaking up and making up for over a decade without ever truly severing ties. Too proud to be the first to beg for peace, I had my best friend text him, saying I had committed suicide. I didn't expect Mason's reply to her: [Tell her to drop dead! In fact, why didn't you go die with her!] At the exact same time, Mason’s grad-school mentee updated her Instagram story. "Spring is here. I was going to hire a male stripper for the night, but this gorgeous guy insisted on throwing himself at me. Saved me $500." The "stripper" wrapping his arms tightly around her neck in the photo was none other than Mason. …… I couldn't believe my eyes. After staring at that painfully familiar face in the photo for a few seconds, my hands shook as I FaceTimed Mason. To my shock, the face that abruptly popped up on the screen was Scarlett’s, beaming with a radiant smile. "Mason is in the shower. If you have something to say, you can just tell me. It's the same thing." I stared blankly at the screen. Across Scarlett’s exposed collarbone was a cluster of bright red hickeys. The background was a messy, white hotel bed. I could faintly hear the sound of the shower running. Scarlett let out a scoff. "Looks like you're still confused. I'll send you a link to a post; you'll understand everything once you see it." Without waiting for my reply, she hung up and texted me a link from her own account. Numbly, I clicked on it. Though the poster’s profile picture was just a blurry silhouette, I instantly recognized it as Mason. Turns out, he had a secret burner account I knew nothing about. The post featured a video he had taken of me during our ski trip to Aspen last winter. In the video, I was holding a bouquet of winter blooms, skipping happily through the snow-capped mountains. But the caption read: She's always so happy every time we go out. How do I tell her I stopped loving her a long time ago? I stopped loving her a long time ago! Every single word felt like a dagger plunged directly into my chest. It hurt so much I could barely breathe. But my first reaction was still denial. Mason and I had twenty years of history, a passionate and fiery romance. Everyone in New York society knew the Sterling and Crawford families had essentially arranged our marriage. Next month, after graduating with our Master's degrees, we were supposed to have our wedding. Unless I heard him say he didn't love me with his own mouth, some bullshit burner post meant nothing! Like a madwoman, I ran downstairs, hopped into my car, and sped straight to The Ritz-Carlton. Mason had a permanent VIP suite there. But the moment I reached his door, I heard the unmistakable, heavy panting echoing from inside. The sound wrapped around me like a curse, driving me to the brink of insanity. I bit my lip so hard that the metallic taste of blood bloomed in my mouth. I don't know how much time passed, but masochistically, I stood there and listened to the entire process. Suddenly, the door swung open. Along with Mason’s face came the heavy, unmistakable scent of sex. The corners of Mason’s eyes were still flushed with lust. Seeing me, he didn't panic at all. He just raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Didn't you say you committed suicide? You look perfectly healthy grinding your teeth like that." My gaze bypassed him, landing on Scarlett, who was taking her sweet time getting dressed on the bed, and the used condoms scattered on the floor. Through my blurry, tear-filled eyes, I saw her smile provocatively. "What are you so shocked about?" "It's not like this is my first time with him. Empty classrooms, campus rooftops, the bed in his parents' mansion, and even the sofa in that apartment you share with him... we've done it everywhere." "Today I just wanted a thrill. I wanted you to come stand outside the door and listen, which is why I posted that story for you to see." "Got to say, I've never seen Mason as excited as he was just now." A wave of intense nausea hit me. My internal organs felt like they were twisting into knots. I looked up at Mason, my voice hoarse. "Is everything she said true?" Our eyes met, and Mason gave a lazy shrug. "I have nothing to defend." The next second, I rushed into the hallway bathroom and threw up until my vision went dark. Footsteps echoed behind me, and a familiar, large hand gently patted my back. I looked up, seeing my bloodshot eyes in the mirror. Mason let out a sigh. "Chloe, can we calm down? We've already broken up." My entire body ran cold. I stared at his reflection dead in the eye. "Scarlett joined your advisor's lab three months ago. Over these last three months, we've 'broken up' so many times. Tell me, which time was the real one?" "Every single one." The brief answer made my scalp go numb with agony. It turned out that what I thought were just lovers' quarrels were his premeditated attempts to leave me. Seeing how deathly pale my face was, he sighed helplessly and turned to Scarlett. "You head back first. Chloe and I need to talk." Scarlett smiled with absolute confidence. "Sure. After all, it's not easy to cleanly sever twenty years of history." With that, she left. Mason’s infatuated gaze followed her retreating figure, exactly the way he used to look at me with such deep devotion. It wasn't until Scarlett’s footsteps completely faded away that he finally brought his eyes back to my face. "Why?" I asked, my voice trembling. "There is no 'why'." Mason lit a cigarette and leaned lazily against the wall. "I got bored of you. I got tired of us." "But none of this has anything to do with Scarlett. She might seem arrogant on the surface, but she’s innocent at heart. She never wanted to get between us." "Don't go looking for trouble with her. If you're mad, take it out on me. I'm the one who wanted to break up with you over the last three months; you're the one who refused to take it seriously." I suddenly burst into laughter, my heart aching so badly it trembled. "Mason Crawford, are you really defending her like this?" "Then what about me? What am I?!" I screamed at him, my voice tearing. "When you ran toward me with flowers at seventeen, when you kissed me under the stars at eighteen, when we lay in the same bed for the first time at twenty... did you ever think there would come a day where you'd treat me like this for another woman?!" His hand holding the cigarette paused, his cold eyes flashing with a hint of red. "No. I never thought we'd end up like this. But that's all in the past." "Chloe, maybe the seventeen-year-old me loved you desperately, but the twenty-five-year-old me undeniably doesn't." "We can't let a few moments from our past shackle our entire future." I stared at his hardened profile. My heart squeezed with a pain so intense I couldn't speak. Twenty years of feelings. From childhood companionship to adult intimacy—shattered into dust by his few weightless sentences. My last shred of dignity stopped me from making any more futile arguments. I turned and walked away, every step feeling like I was walking on broken glass. But the man behind me suddenly lunged forward and grabbed my wrist. "You're too emotional right now. I don't feel safe letting you leave alone. I'll drive you home." One sentence, and in a daze, it felt like we were back in the days when he still loved me. But there was undeniably no trace of that past affection left in his eyes. I forcefully ripped my hand out of his grasp, shedding tears of self-mockery. "No need. Since the love is gone, we should make a clean break. Dragging things out isn't my style!" "Even if we aren't a couple anymore, we still grew up together! I still care about your safety!" He yelled at me, frowning, and without giving me a chance to refuse, he practically dragged me to his car and shoved me into the passenger seat. My gaze abruptly landed on the plushie hanging from his rearview mirror—a little figure in a racing suit. Belatedly, I remembered Mason once mentioning that Scarlett was an amateur race car driver. When did this plushie get hung up here? I couldn't even remember. I watched Mason driving with a serious expression, not knowing exactly when the love between us had begun to rot. The car drove all the way into my upscale neighborhood and stopped in front of my family's estate. Usually, at this moment, we would share a passionate, lingering kiss, refusing to let each other go. But today, swallowing the burning acid behind my eyes, I didn't look at him. I simply reached for the door handle. Yet Mason grabbed my hand again. "Chloe," he called my name, his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry..." "Save your apologies," I cut him off. "They make me sick!" I violently yanked my hand back. As I did, my arm struck the rearview mirror, shattering the little racer plushie. Instantly, his brow furrowed in deep distress. He ignored me entirely, dropping down to meticulously gather the broken pieces. I gave him one last look, turned, and ran into my house. Outside the door, Mason’s phone started to ring. Perhaps because his hands were full, he put it on speaker. "Mason, I saw your mentee's Instagram story. Are you really with her? What about Chloe? Are you seriously throwing away twenty years together?" It was my best friend, Maya. I bit my lip so hard it bled, waiting for Mason's response. After a long silence, his exhausted voice drifted through the door. "Even if it’s hard to let go, I've already said the cruelest things to Chloe to her face. Ripping the band-aid off quickly will hurt her less in the long run." "Because right now, I am absolutely certain: I want to be with Scarlett, not Chloe." In that exact moment, I heard something inside me snap. It completely shattered. A thick, intense wave of sourness mixed with the metallic taste of blood surged up my throat. I violently coughed up a massive mouthful of blood. The next second, I completely lost consciousness. The smell of antiseptic. I slowly opened my eyes. My vision was filled with the stark white ceiling and walls of a hospital room. My parents and Maya were standing by my bed, their eyes red, watching me anxiously. "Chloe! Two days and two nights! You're finally awake. Do you have any idea that you're pregnant?!" I froze, my hand subconsciously moving to my flat stomach. Why? Why now, of all times? My mom took my hand, tears streaming down her face. "Chloe, we know what that bastard Mason did." "This baby... what do you want to do?" "Don't worry, aside from the three of us, no one else knows this child exists." "Whatever you decide, we support you." I lowered my eyes, a thousand thoughts rushing through my mind. Seeing my conflict, my parents and Maya knew I was struggling. "We'll go get you some food and pastries. Take your time and think about it." "Even if you want to keep the baby and ditch the father, the Sterling family is more than wealthy enough to raise a child!"

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