The heavy stench of alcohol on him was a constant reminder: he had still gone to see Emma last night. I lost control of my emotions. I pushed him away, pulled off my engagement ring, and threw it into the dark. He searched desperately for it all day. When soft tactics didn't work, he resorted to force. But I already didn't want to love him anymore. 1 Emma Davis was back. She deliberately sent me a text: "Chloe, thank you for staying by Liam’s side through those hard times." It happened just as Liam Carter walked in. It happened just as we were in the middle of a cold war. I unconsciously bit my lower lip, a bitter taste spreading in my mouth. Today was his birthday. I had baked a cake from scratch, wanting to be the first to soften and make peace. But the moment I opened the door, I saw Liam and Emma tangled together on the sofa. Smash! The cake dropped and splattered all over the floor. I slammed the door and walked away. Liam panicked and chased after me. "Chloe, it’s not what it looks like." He reeked of alcohol, mixed with the pungent scent of her perfume. It made me want to gag. "I get it," I said. "It's just a mistake any man might make. Go back and finish what you started." "Chloe, stop making a scene. I can't lose you." My Uber arrived quickly. Thoroughly disappointed and drained of all anger, I said, "I'm really tired today. Just let me go, okay?" Liam lowered his head. I hadn't seen him in a few days, and his hair seemed to have grown longer, covering his eyes. He looked exhausted, conflicted, and torn. Ever since his business took off, he had become calm and decisive. I hadn't seen him look this lost and helpless in a very long time. He finally let go of my hand, hesitating. "Let me take you back to the hotel." The dim night wind blew, sending a chill straight to my heart. "No need." I got into the car. The driver reminded me to buckle up and started the engine. I leaned against the window, the bumps in the road making my head sway gently. My heart still ached terribly. Maybe because I had been so fiercely loyal to him, he took it as a given that I would never leave. So, he offered no explanation and made no real effort to make me stay. But what he didn't know was that I was tired. I didn't want to love him anymore. I watched the neon lights outside blur into streaks of color as the past played back in my mind like a movie. Liam and I didn't have many romantic memories. The moment that moved me the most was the night he saved me. He didn't know me back then, but I had a huge crush on him. That night, after a late study session at the campus library, a creep followed me on my way back to the dorms. Hearing the gross laughter and quickening footsteps behind me, I was terrified. Then, just like the male lead in a movie, Liam appeared right on time. He threw an arm around my shoulder and smiled. "Girlfriend, wandering around this late? I'm gonna get mad." He escorted me all the way back to my building. I didn't sleep at all that night. My mind was full of his handsome side profile, our overlapping shadows under the streetlights, and that ambiguous word: "Girlfriend." Having a crush is a chaotic, one-person war. Even making eye contact with him made my heart race. But his eyes were only ever on Emma. Emma liked the attention, but she looked down on his poor background, always stringing him along. It wasn't until Emma started dating a trust-fund kid and moved abroad that Liam finally gave up. During that time, he let his studies slip, drank himself into a stupor, and hit rock bottom. Losing Emma shattered him. I couldn't bear to see him destroy himself, so I secretly kept tabs on him and wrote him letters of encouragement. After graduation, I thought our paths would never cross again. Unexpectedly, we ended up working at the same corporate firm. Later, because of our projects, we spent more and more time together. We ate lunch together, went on business trips, pulled all-nighters, and grabbed late-night diner food. We drifted closer, our interactions growing increasingly ambiguous. We finally made it official after a client dinner. That night, an aggressive client got handsy and ended up ripping a button off my white blouse. Liam got into a fistfight for me, draped his suit jacket over my shoulders, and boldly escorted me out in front of everyone. To appease the client, the manager fired him on the spot. That night, his emotions were incredibly unstable. He drank too much, his voice trembling as he shouted at the city skyline across the river. "Why?! Just because we don't have power, money, or connections, we have to be bullied and swallow our pride?! I swear I'm going to make a name for myself and smash their ugly faces!" I wept silently, holding him tightly. Two down-and-out people huddled together for warmth in the freezing wind. He confessed to me. There were no sweet words, just his dark, shining eyes. "Chloe, be with me. I won't ever let you down." Crying, I cupped his face, kissed his lips, and said yes. The wind tangled our hair together. That night, we awkwardly and passionately explored each other. At the height of it, he kissed my ear and hoarsely repeated, "Chloe, I won't let you down." A soft, miraculous feeling seeped into my heart. I felt so safe. I held him and cried as I kissed him back. Later, I stayed by his side as he launched his startup. Slowly, our little company grew. Then it became a massive corporation, and Liam became an industry titan. I thought I was lucky. I thought I was the one who got to walk to the finish line with the regretful crush of my youth. It wasn't until Emma came back that I realized how pathetic I was. Years of my loyal companionship couldn't rival a single pout from her. He grew colder toward me, came home later and later, and we spoke less and less. Thinking back, Liam and I never even had a honeymoon phase. We were always just... steady. Plain. Even the romantic things he said to me were incredibly bland: "Chloe, being with you makes me feel at peace." I used to be so moved by that. Until I accidentally unlocked his old phone and looked through the photo gallery. He had played the guitar for her under the moonlight. He had hand-carved a wooden comb for her. He had lit a heart made of candles for her. He had stayed up all night writing poetry for her. It turned out he wasn't incapable of romance or surprises. He just didn't want to waste his time and energy preparing them for me. Maybe he had never felt his heart flutter for me. He chose me simply because I didn't throw tantrums, didn't make demands, and devoted myself entirely to him. 2 The next day, I drove to the office. In truth, I hadn't been to the company in a while. Even though I owned shares, I didn't like corporate management or the business operations, so I held an empty title and spent most of my time running my own floral boutique. When Liam saw me, surprise flashed in his eyes. He had dark circles under them; he clearly hadn't slept well last night. "Chloe, what are you doing here?" "I think there are some things we need to make clear." A knock on the door interrupted us. Someone brought in tea, accompanied by a very familiar perfume scent. I looked at the person holding the tray. Sure enough, it was Emma. I knew that scent all too well. On countless nights when Liam came home late, I had smelled it on his suit. At first, I only suspected. I never expected that they had rekindled their messy, tangled affair long before I even noticed, and that he had actually given her a job at our company. How incredibly ironic. A rare look of panic flashed across Liam's face. He only ever showed that kind of flustered, helpless expression in front of his old flame. "You can step out," Liam told her. Emma pouted, a playful look crossing her flawlessly manicured face. I couldn't stand watching them flirt right under my nose. "Wait. Fire her. Right now." "Chloe, calm down," Liam pleaded. "I'm already helping her find another job. Her family went bankrupt, her boyfriend dumped her, and she's drowning in debt. We were college classmates. I purely just want to help her." Helping her all the way into his bed? Purely? I saw Emma holding back a smirk, only to instantly put on a pitiful, fragile look the moment Liam glanced her way. Any man would feel a surge of protective instinct seeing that—especially since she was his untouchable first love. Emma spoke up in a weak voice. "Chloe, we used to be roommates. Don't be so ruthless. What you saw yesterday was truly a misunderstanding. I can explain." "Liam, I'm giving you two choices. She leaves, or I leave." "Chloe, stop acting out. You never used to be this aggressive." There it was again. That torn, conflicted expression. Suddenly, it was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. Disappointment made me unusually calm. After all these years by his side, I only managed to occupy a small corner of his heart. I could never become his undeniable preference. He would never choose me without hesitation. Perhaps my gaze was too icy, because he finally compromised and fired Emma. But I knew she hadn't lost, and I hadn't won. 3 "Liam, we..." Before I could finish, my words were silenced by a soft warmth pressing against my lips. Whenever we fought in the past, he used this method. Dominant yet gentle, he would show weakness, holding me and coaxing me in a soft voice: "Promise me, never say those two words (break up)." But this time, his eyes were red. "Chloe, I'm sorry. I'll handle this properly. Just give me some time, please? That day was truly an accident. She was drunk and out of her mind. I was going to push her away, but you came back right then. Chloe, I can't live without you. Don't look at me like that, it kills me." Looking at him now, my heart felt absolutely nothing. I even found it laughable. I used to always watch him. When he was happy, I was happy. When he was sad, I was even sadder. I always tried so hard to step into his world, but he never actively shared his joys or sorrows with me. Back when we first started the business, he worked himself to the bone to build connections, secure orders, and expand the company. He skipped meals, ignored his illnesses, drank heavily every day, traveled constantly, and messed up his sleep schedule. I knew he was under immense pressure. It's not easy fighting for success alone. I wanted to share the burden, but he never talked to me. He only ever told me not to worry. But how could I not worry? Every time I saw him throwing up in the bathroom for half an hour, or smoking irritably on the balcony, I could only stand behind him, constantly guessing his situation, feeling deeply anxious, and suffering from insomnia night after night. Maybe even if Emma hadn't reappeared, my heart would have grown exhausted by him eventually anyway. I pushed him away, my mind made up. "Let's break up. The wedding is off." My best friend Maya heard what happened and rushed over to see me in a panic. We found a coffee shop downstairs from the company. The moment we sat down, Maya started cursing him out. "I was so blind. I never expected Liam to be such a scumbag. You guys are almost married, and he's still tangled up with another woman! We can't let this slide. That shameless bitch, Emma Davis, right? Watch how I handle her. Don't worry Chloe, I'll definitely get revenge for you." "I broke up with him." "Break up... good! Wait, what? You just said you broke up?! Chloe, if you initiate a breakup now, aren't you playing right into their hands? This is too much. When you got together with him, he had absolutely nothing. If it weren't for you, how could he be this successful today? Even if you break up, you can't let him off that easily." Right on cue, Emma showed up at the absolute worst time. She didn't see me. She and a few friends happened to sit at the table right behind us. "Emma, you're amazing! I heard you bagged another rich boyfriend." Emma smugly showed off, "Oh, him? He's an old college classmate. He had a massive crush on me back then, but I wasn't interested. Who would have thought that after all these years, he's still obsessed with me?" "Emma, your charm is insane. I'm so jealous." "If it weren't for the fact that he's doing pretty well for himself now, there's no way I would have ever gone back to an ex." "Emma, don't tell me you're only with him because he has money now?" They all giggled together in a knowing, unspoken agreement. The laughter pierced my ears, incredibly grating. I grabbed my iced coffee and poured it directly over her head. The dark liquid dripped down from her hair, crawling down her face like disgusting little worms. Emma shrieked, "Chloe Bennett, are you crazy?!" "I think you're the crazy one. Ruining someone else's relationship—is that really something worth bragging about?" "What are you doing?!" Liam's voice rang out. "Liam!" Emma cried. "She's bullying me!" What perfect timing. Liam appeared exactly when she needed rescuing. 4 Emma threw herself pitifully into Liam's arms, rubbing against his chest. Her makeup stained his crisp, clean shirt with brown smudges. It looked so dirty. So incredibly dirty. His hand rested on her shoulder. He couldn't bear to push her away, yet he looked at me with an expression of sheer disbelief. It was as if I could hear his words echoing again: "Chloe, stop acting out. You never used to be this aggressive." Every single word was like a needle, densely packed and stabbing directly into my heart. Liam. It's been seven years. Have you ever truly understood me? Walking out of the coffee shop, a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I leaned against the brick wall in an alleyway, dry heaving violently, but nothing came up. Maya patted my back gently. "Chloe, what's wrong?" I felt terrible. I couldn't utter a single word, only shaking my head continuously. Maya grew worried. "You're not... pregnant, are you? We need to go to the hospital right now." Liam had chased after us. Seeing the dark stain on his shirt, the nausea I had just managed to suppress surged back up, and I started dry heaving again. He scooped me up into his arms. I pounded on his chest like a madwoman, but he didn't loosen his grip in the slightest. Maya panicked and blocked his path. "What the hell are you doing? Put Chloe down!" Liam's voice was devoid of warmth. "If you don't want anything bad to happen to her, get out of my way." He placed me in the passenger seat and buckled my seatbelt. I felt a bone-deep chill. Staring at him numbly, I said only one word: "Dirty." The doctor confirmed it. I was a little over two months pregnant. I bit my lower lip so hard a sweet, metallic taste filled my mouth. The coldness spread from my chest through my entire body. My little baby, you really came at the wrong time. It started pouring rain outside. The drops fell like broken strings of pearls, violently tapping against the windowpanes. When I woke up, the dim, yellow lights of the hospital room made me feel momentarily disoriented. I remembered the first time I ever brought up breaking up. It was also in a hospital, only the person lying in the bed was Liam. He had finally collapsed from the intense workload. First a high fever, then a bleeding stomach ulcer. He was unconscious for a very long time. Seeing him lying there so pale, refusing to wake up, I was terrified. All my grievances, sorrow, and insecurity mixed together and exploded in an instant, crushing my fragile nerves. I had clearly told him: smoke less, drink less, don't stay up all night, eat your meals on time, and don't delay going to the doctor when you're sick. But he never listened. He acted like his body was made of iron. He kept everything from me, always trying to be the tough guy, until he dragged himself into a severe illness. When his condition finally stabilized, I asked for a breakup. I thought I could say those two words calmly, but once they actually left my mouth, I covered my face and broke down crying. Liam hugged me, rubbing my back, coaxing me in my ear: "Chloe, it's okay. Don't cry. It's all my fault for making you worry. I promise there won't be a next time." Back then, I was still so deeply, hopelessly in love with this man. But bit by bit, he had completely drained away every expectation I ever had for him. Sometimes I felt that maybe Liam had never loved me at all. It was just that no one else had ever loved him as purely as I did. "Liam, we are already broken up. I don't want to see you ever again." Hearing my voice, Liam suddenly snapped his head up. His hair was a mess. His hands were trembling. His eyes were red and entirely bloodshot. Was he crying? He carefully took my hand and pressed it against his forehead. The moment our skin touched, he buried his head again, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. I felt a wet patch spread across my palm. He was crying! He was always so calm and restrained, but right now, he was sobbing like a helpless child. I didn't understand. Why was he acting so devastated? What was the point? Right now, I felt nothing but disappointment toward him. Liam's voice was raspy. "I don't accept it. I told you, I can't live without you. I will absolutely never let you go. I'm sorry, I was wrong..." I sneered. "Liam, do you know what? Seeing you cry right now... I just find it incredibly pathetic." 5 Honestly, I felt fine physically and wanted to be discharged immediately, but Liam forbade it. He insisted I stay in the hospital for a few more days for observation. I didn't have the energy to fight him, so I just lay down and turned my back to him. Liam fussed over me endlessly. Tucking me in, pouring me warm water, peeling fruit for me. Like a puppy that knew it did something wrong, dropping its head to curry favor. But I had no desire to acknowledge him. I texted Maya to come pick me up. Taking advantage of a moment when Liam stepped out to take a phone call, I made my escape. When Liam realized it, he chased after me, but was intercepted by a tall, muscular man. I got into Maya's car. She wiggled her eyebrows at me. "How about that? I brought my older brother. Reliable, right?" As the car slowly pulled away, Liam grew further and further in the distance. He sprinted after us desperately, but couldn't catch up. The sky was a dull gray. It started raining again, the drops smashing against the windshield, blurring the figure in the rearview mirror until he was gone. "Chloe, are you okay?" I shook my head. Maya was worried about me, so she took me back to her place. She even cooked a whole table of delicious food for me. Though I didn't have much of an appetite, I was deeply touched. "Maya, you're so domestic. Whoever marries you is going to be the luckiest guy in the world." "Shut up, I don't ever want to get married. Don't jinx me." I picked up a piece of pot roast, but just as I was about to take a bite, a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I sprinted to the bathroom and threw up violently. Maya started crying out of worry. "Chloe, what is wrong with you?!" I remained unusually calm. "It's fine. I'm just pregnant." The pale yellow nightlight cast a faint glow in the room. I lay flat on the bed next to Maya, staring at the ceiling, making aimless small talk. It felt as if we had returned to our carefree college days. Then, my phone buzzed with a notification. I thought it was Liam and didn't want to look, but when I opened it, it was a message from Emma. "I really have to thank you for giving Liam back to me." She attached a photo. In it, Liam was blackout drunk, slumped over a table. Emma was kissing his cheek, looking straight into the camera with a triumphant, victorious smile. She was provoking me. She clearly didn't realize that I was no longer the same Chloe Bennett who was so easy to bully years ago. Pregnancy fueled my rebellion. A suffocating rage ignited in the pit of my stomach. I hated Liam. I despised Emma. I wanted revenge. Liam and I had once drafted a "breakup agreement" for our shared assets. He had probably forgotten. Back then, to prevent Emma from returning and snatching him away, I intentionally added a clause: If Liam ever gets back together with Emma, he will voluntarily transfer all his assets to my name. At the time, he laughed at me for being jealous over nothing and signed it without hesitation. Regretting it now would be useless. But to stop Liam from trying to back out, I needed to gather more evidence of him being with Emma. "Chloe, what's wrong?" "I've decided. I'm going to play matchmaker for Liam and Emma." "Chloe, don't scare me." Maya looked totally confused. She pressed her palm to my forehead, thinking I had a fever that had literally burned my brain. I explained the breakup agreement to her. She immediately gave me a thumbs-up and praised me. "I underestimated you! You had a backup plan this whole time. I'm definitely helping you with this. When you become a rich, single billionaire, don't forget about me!" We racked our brains coming up with wicked schemes, cursing both of them out, and eventually felt incredibly vindicated and relaxed. The next morning, I woke up early to start executing my plan. But when I opened the door, I saw Liam. He was sitting on the floor, his knees pulled up, leaning against the wall. His head was buried in his crossed arms. His tall frame was curled up into a tight ball, looking like an abandoned child. He looked so incredibly sad and lonely. Hearing the door open, he looked up at me. His eyes were heavy and drooping. A man in his early thirties, looking utterly pathetic. "What are you doing here?" He suddenly stood up and hugged me tightly, his voice hoarse and trembling. "Chloe, it took me so long to find you. Please don't leave me, okay? I know I was wrong. I really know I was wrong." The heavy stench of alcohol on him was a constant reminder: he had still gone to see Emma last night. I lost control of my emotions. I used all my strength to push him away. I pulled the engagement ring off my ring finger and, right in front of his face, hurled it as far as I could into the distance. The ring traced a swift arc through the air and vanished from sight. "Liam, whatever we had is just like that ring. You can never get it back." "I can find it." Liam walked off in the direction I had thrown it, searching the ground. 6 I thought he would give up quickly. The apartment complex was huge, and the ring was so small. The chances of finding it were practically zero. He was a man who never wasted his time or energy on meaningless tasks. But to my shock, he searched for the entire day and never gave up. Watching him stumble around, looking like he was going to pass out at any second, I finally felt a pang of pity. "Stop looking. You won't find it. Just go. If you die of exhaustion out here, I'm not taking responsibility." Liam acted as if he didn't hear me. He forced himself to keep going, muttering to himself, "I will definitely find it." The sky was getting darker. If he actually found it, it would be a literal miracle. I couldn't be bothered to care anymore. I turned around to leave. "I found it!" Liam gasped loudly. He excitedly grabbed my hand. His grip was incredibly strong; no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't pull my hand back. I could only watch as he slid the ring back onto my ring finger. "So what if you found it? I can just throw it away again." "Don't you dare." I tried to throw it again, but he pinned my arms down. Then, he scooped me up into his arms. I fought back. I just wanted to push him away, but in my panic, my nails dug into his face and scratched him. The deep gouge extended from beneath his eye down to his jawline, beads of blood welling up. It looked exactly like a trail of bloody tears. Seeing that long, bleeding scratch, I felt terrible and stopped struggling. He didn't get angry. His tone actually softened. "Chloe, stop fighting. You're going to hurt yourself." Maya rushed out, wanting to save me, but one look from Liam terrified her into freezing in place. His eyes were filled with a dark, paranoid possessiveness. The night wind was chilly, and I shivered. Liam took off his jacket, draped it over me, and put me in his car. I turned my head away, refusing to look at him, but from the corner of my eye, I could still see that brutal scar. When we got out of the car, he was afraid I'd run, so he held me tight the entire way up. I demanded to be put down so I could walk myself, but he refused. His grip was an iron vice; I couldn't break free at all. When we entered the elevator, people stared at us. I felt so humiliated I buried my face in his jacket, only to hear him let out a faint, barely audible chuckle. Once inside our home, he set me down on the sofa and crouched beside me. That bloody scratch made his gaze look even more tragic. "It's okay if you don't forgive me. You can hit me, you can scream at me, but you cannot leave me." "You're insane." Soft tactics had failed, so now he was using force to keep me by his side. "Your custom wedding dress is ready. We're going to try it on tomorrow. Our wedding is proceeding as scheduled." "Why?! You clearly love Emma! Why won't you just let me go?!" "No, Chloe. I love you." It was the first time I had ever heard such a serious, desperate confession leave his lips. My brain short-circuited. "I don't care. I'm not marrying you. Marry whoever you want." That night, I had a nightmare. In the dream, Liam and I were walking arm-in-arm down the aisle. It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, but the way Liam looked at me was deeply sorrowful. I felt a warm rush of fluid from my abdomen. My pristine white wedding gown was stained with fresh blood. My hands were covered in blood. Everything I looked at was washed in crimson. I panicked. It hurt so much. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't make a sound. My body went weightless as I fell backward. I jolted awake, drenched in a cold sweat. The other side of the bed was empty. Liam was leaning against the balcony railing, staring into the pitch-black night. The ember of his cigarette glowed and faded. He smoked one after another, the pale moonlight tracing the silhouette of an incredibly tragic, burdened man. Suddenly, a profound sense of dread washed over me.
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