1 My mother's surgery failed, and the doctors gave her less than three months to live. Suffocating under the weight of the news, I had no one to turn to except my boyfriend, Cavette. "Are you busy?" I texted him. No reply. Half an hour later, I sent another message: "Do you have a minute to talk? It's about my mom." Another thirty minutes passed before Cavette finally sent back a single digit: "1". I stared at that "1" for a long time. It was always like this. When I was burning up with a 103-degree fever and begged him to take me to the emergency room, all I got back was a "1". When my mom was first hospitalized and I asked if he could use his connections to get a top specialist, he waited half a day just to send a "1". Even last month when we had a terrible fight and I asked if he cared about me at all, he waited overnight to reply with a "1". Now my mother was dying, and I truly had no one left to lean on. Suddenly, a push notification popped up from his executive assistant Phoebe's Instagram story. [I'm such a airhead! ruined the client proposal, but thanks to Mr. Cavette staying up past midnight fixing it with me, I'm touched enough to propose to him~] How utterly ridiculous. … Cavette was always "too busy." Calls to his personal line were screened by his secretary. Dates had to be scheduled three days in advance. Yet he willingly sacrificed his precious time to personally fix a proposal for a junior assistant. I tilted my head back to force the tears back into my eyes. I searched my mind, trying to remember why I had ever fallen for Cavette in the first place. A boyfriend like this wasn't worth keeping. I stared at Phoebe's post for a long time. Attached was a photo of Cavette. He was dressed in a tailored black suit, staring intently at his laptop screen with a coffee cup sitting beside him. The cup had delicate latte art poured over the top, and the mug itself was a dusty pink. It looked like something a young girl would pick out with care. My mind drifted back to every birthday we spent together, when I used to buy Cavette a custom mug as a gift. Every single time he received one, he tossed it into the back of the hallway cabinet. It sat there gathering dust, never used once. I remembered asking him with red, tear-brimmed eyes, "Do you not like them?" Cavette had paused, reaching out to pat my hair carelessly. "The gifts you give me are too precious. I want to collect them and keep them safe." "When I turn fifty, I'll take them all out and count them one by one." "Don't overthink things, Hailey. I don't care much for everyday items like mugs anyway. I have work to handle." Yet I had seen that exact pink coffee cup on Phoebe's feed before. It was a free promotional giveaway she got when buying a latte. Cavette had taken it and used it without a second thought. I scrolled up her profile. Cavette had liked her previous post too. Out of her last seven posts, he had liked six of them. Looking back at my own profile, he hadn't liked a single one of my posts in nearly two years. Forget liking them, he probably didn't even bother looking. I tapped the heart icon on Phoebe's post, adding my own like to the list. Then I quietly closed the chat window with Cavette, sending nothing more. The screen went black. I let it stay dark. No matter how many messages I sent, that chat window would only ever receive another cold "1". It was completely meaningless. I slipped my phone into my coat pocket, stood up, and went to make the final arrangements for my mother. By the time I finished, my body felt heavy and hollow. I dragged myself back to our shared apartment. The moment I unlocked the front door, I noticed the living room lights were on. I thought Cavette was back, but instead, Phoebe walked out of the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a bath towel. "Oh! Sorry, Hailey! I thought you weren't coming home tonight." "Mr. Cavette sent me over to grab some files, and I was drenched in sweat, so I borrowed your bathroom..." "After all, he and I are going on a week-long business trip tomorrow morning." Phoebe gave me a smug, triumphant smirk before strolling directly into the master bedroom to pack Cavette's clothes. I didn't say a word. My gaze was fixed on the spare key held tight in her hand. "How did you get that?" I asked quietly. Phoebe turned around, raising an eyebrow. "You mean this?" "Mr. Cavette gave it to me, of course." A small Bunny Cop keychain dangled from the ring. It stung my eyes like a blade. If memory served, Cavette's own keychain carried a matching Fox Nick charm. When had he gotten it? Three months ago? Six months ago? I couldn't even remember. "These are all Mr. Cavette's clothes, right? They definitely match his style," Phoebe murmured, opening the closet and sifting through his wardrobe as if she owned the place. "Oh, I remember this shirt! I helped him pick it out while we were shopping on our last business trip." "And this jacket! The coffee stain on the sleeve is from when I slipped and spilled my drink on him last week. Hahaha, you still haven't washed it out?" I stood by the bedroom door like a total stranger, watching another woman sort through my boyfriend's intimate belongings. A deep, bitter ache flooded my chest. As if sensing my stare, Phoebe glanced back at me. "Hailey, don't misunderstand. I'm just Mr. Cavette's assistant. Everything between us is completely professional." I forced a weak curve onto my lips. "I'm not misunderstanding anything. Take your time." Turning around, I walked straight into the study and shut the door behind me. The second the door clicked shut, my knees gave out. I slid down against the wood, tears spilling over my lashes. With trembling fingers, I pulled out my phone and typed a message to Cavette. "Cavette, let's break up." Five minutes later, my phone chimed. A pathetic sliver of expectation still lingered in my chest, hoping he might say something to hold onto me. When I opened the screen, the lingering hope shattered instantly. It was the exact same reply as always. "1". I suddenly remembered a time when I couldn't hold back my frustration and asked Cavette why he always replied with a single digit. He had said, "Because it's fast. You know how busy I am, and extra words waste time. Replying with a '1' means I've read it and acknowledged it." He was indeed busy. Busy acquiring companies, busy closing multimillion-dollar deals, making thousands of dollars every single minute. Back then, I thought his explanation made sense. I tried my best to be understanding, sensible, and quiet, never disturbing his work. Only now did I realize the truth. He was simply saving his time so he could spend it on someone else. I didn't have the energy to dwell on it anymore. My mother was laying in the hospital morgue, waiting for me to send her off on her final journey. I slept for barely two hours that night. Before dawn broke, I pulled myself out of bed to handle the funeral arrangements. Standing inside the cold morgue, looking down at my mother's quiet, sleeping face, I finally broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. "Mom, I'm sorry... I was useless. I couldn't save you..." The failed operation had been her last chance. Before she was wheeled into the operating room, she had already lapsed into a coma. The doctor had told me that if a top national specialist led the surgery, her survival rate could reach over sixty percent. Before that, I had begged Cavette with everything I had. "Please, can you introduce the specialist you know to my mom?" "The doctors said if he performs the surgery, there's a high chance she'll make it." Cavette had been glued to his laptop screen. He didn't even lift his head. Only when I begged repeatedly did he crease his brows in annoyance. "Hailey, it's not that I don't want to help you, but Dr. Chen has strict principles. He only sees patients by appointment." "Then... is it too late if I book an appointment now?" Cavette glanced at me coolly. "His schedule is packed until next month. If you're willing to wait, I can put your name down." But my mother's condition couldn't wait. I had no choice but to settle for another surgeon. Yet the very next day, Phoebe had posted an update on her feed: [I officially declare Mr. Cavette the best boss in the world! Not only does he pay me well, but he also pulled strings to get a top specialist for my mom!] [Everyone else has to wait two months, but one word from him got me bumped to the front of the line! Boss Cavette is the best!] My heart had gone completely dead in that moment. I had driven straight to Cavette's corporate building with red eyes, wanting to confront him, only to be blocked by security at the front lobby. "Miss, you don't have an appointment. You can't go up." I dialed Cavette's phone frantically, but his executive secretary answered instead. "Miss Hailey, Mr. Cavette instructed that if you wish to see him, you must book an appointment three days in advance." Booking an appointment three days in advance. What an absolute joke. A girlfriend needing an advance reservation just to see her own boyfriend. Now, watching my mother being pushed into the cremation furnace, waiting until she was reduced to a small pile of grey ashes, I couldn't even squeeze out another tear. I held the warm urn in my arms, walking numbly down the street. A small vendor cart stood by the curb, selling hot roasted chestnuts. A young girl behind the cart called out shyly, "Miss, would you like some chestnuts? Fresh out of the roaster!" My mind flashed back to my mother lying in her hospital bed, gripping my hand with a faint smile. "Hailey, my sweet girl loves roasted chestnuts the most." "When Mom gets better, I'll take you shopping and buy you a giant bag of hot chestnuts..." Before she was wheeled into the operating room, sensing the worst, she had forced her small savings into my palm. "Mom might not be able to stay with you much longer. If you see roasted chestnuts on the street, buy a bag for yourself." "Just pretend Mom bought them for you." "Cavette is always so busy with work. He never has time for you, and I hate seeing you suffer alone..." Tears had poured down my mother's face as she spoke. "Mom is useless. I can't stay by your side." "If only Cavette wasn't so busy..." Mom, Cavette wasn't busy. He just didn't want to spend his time on me. He had never bought me roasted chestnuts from the street vendor. So I would buy them myself. I bought a small bag and held it tight. The hot shells burned my fingertips red. I peeled one and slipped it into my mouth. Tears spilled over my eyelashes instantly. "Mom, I ate the chestnuts you bought me." Just then, my phone chimed with another notification from Phoebe's feed. It was a photo of her and Cavette standing close together, both smiling brightly at the camera with peace signs. The caption read: [A week-long business trip! Boss Cavette worked so hard! We finally closed the big deal we've been chasing for half a month. The boss treated me to a lavish dinner, and I got to pick my favorite restaurant. How is this not a match made in heaven?] Someone had commented below: "Doesn't your boss have a girlfriend?" "You're just an assistant. Posting stuff like this... aren't you afraid the boss's lady will see it and misunderstand?" Phoebe replied with a giggling emoji: "Just work partners~ Don't spread rumors." "Besides, Mr. Cavette isn't married, which legally makes him single. Who knows who the real boss's lady will turn out to be?" I locked my screen, finding the whole thing absurdly funny. We were broken up anyway, and my mother's affairs were settled. It was time to leave. That evening, I was sorting through my belongings, deciding what to pack, what to give away, and what to throw out. The front door suddenly swung open. Cavette walked in, looking exhausted. He stepped up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Hailey." "It's been almost half a month. Why haven't you sent me any messages lately?" "I've been worked to the bone." "Without your daily texts keeping me company, I actually feel a bit unaccustomed to it." Did you truly care about my company? Could a lazy, automated response really become a habit for you? I didn't answer. I pulled away from his grip, creating distance between us. "I'm really tired. I don't feel like talking." "You just got back from your trip. You should get some rest." Holding my pillow, I turned toward the guest bedroom just like I always did. Cavette creased his brows, grabbing my wrist firmly. "Don't sleep in the guest room tonight. Sleep with me, alright?" I turned back, staring directly into his eyes. When we first moved in together, I used to be clingy. I tried every sweet word I knew, begging Cavette to let us sleep in the same room. I told him I was afraid of thunder. He handed me a pair of noise-canceling earplugs. "Put these in and you won't hear a thing." I told him I was afraid of the dark. He handed me a sleep mask. "You'll get used to it." I racked my brain for other excuses, but he had frowned at me impatiently. "Hailey, I'm genuinely busy. I don't have time to play these childish games with you." "Before you met me, did you not sleep alone?" I had been left speechless. He claimed he needed to focus on work late into the night, afraid I would disturb him, and afraid his late-night typing would wake me. So he insisted on separate bedrooms. From that day on, I became a permanent resident of the guest room. Yet now, he was actively asking me to sleep beside him. "No thanks," I said, gently slipping my hand out of his grip. "I'm used to sleeping alone." Cavette's hand hovered in the air, clearly surprised by my refusal. He stared at me, a flicker of confusion breaking through the exhaustion on his face. Subconsciously assuming I was just throwing a minor tantrum, he let his hand drop. "Fine," he sighed, loosening his tie. "Get some sleep then." I nodded, turning to push open the guest room door. "Oh, by the way," his voice called out from behind me. "If I remember correctly, your mom's surgery is the day after tomorrow, right?" My hand froze on the doorknob. Cavette's voice carried a hint of a warm smile. "I took a full day off the day after tomorrow. I'll head to the hospital with you to see your mom." "After all, a major surgery is terrifying for an old lady. Having both of us there will make her feel much better." A suffocating wave of bitterness welled up behind my eyes. I clenched my fists, biting my lip until it hurt. "Thank you, but there's no need." My mother was already gone. Her life-or-death surgery hadn't been scheduled for the day after tomorrow. It had taken place a week ago. It was just a shame that Cavette couldn't even remember something so critical. "Hailey, you don't need to be so polite with me," Cavette said affectionately. "I admit I've been neglecting you because of work lately. Taking the day off will be a good way to make it up to you." He pulled a red velvet gift box from his coat pocket and handed it over. "I saw this on my way back from the airport. Thought it looked nice, so I bought it for you." I turned around. Cavette opened the velvet box, looking at me as if expecting a delighted reaction. With a single glance, my heart sank to the bottom of an icy lake. The bracelet inside was something I had already seen on Phoebe's Instagram feed. [So thankful to Boss Cavette for buying me the Ocean Star necklace!] [Though this free promo bracelet that came with it is pretty ugly. I don't want it, wonder which unlucky soul will end up with it.] I forced a faint smile onto my face. "Well, thank you so much." Cavette didn't notice the strange tone in my voice. He turned and walked into the bathroom to take a shower. And I, the unlucky soul, didn't even look at the bracelet a second time before tossing it directly into the trash can. Early the next morning, I got up and began packing my things. Having lived here for three years, the apartment was filled with memories. The ornaments on the bookshelf, the clothes in the closet, the small milk pot in the kitchen I used for two years, the framed photo of my mother on the nightstand... Now that I was leaving, I realized how few things actually belonged to me. I pulled my clothes from the closet, folded them neatly, and packed them into two large rolling suitcases. From the bookshelf, I picked a few sentimental knickknacks to slide into my backpack, leaving the rest behind. Opening the desk drawer, I found several old journals I had written when I first arrived in Seattle. The pages were filled with the innocent longings of a girl hopelessly in love. "Taking a leap of faith for love! I finally moved to Cavette's city! We can finally live together and end the long-distance relationship!" "Cavette is so talented and amazing. So many girls are pursuing him, but I have to do my best not to become a burden to him." "Cavette worked late again tonight. He's too busy to spend time with me." "Little Teddy, I've been in Seattle for half a year now. When do you think Cavette will finally have free time to take me to see the ocean?" I let out a self-deprecating laugh and tossed the journals straight into the trash. As I was wrapping up, footsteps sounded behind me. I turned around. Cavette was leaning against the doorframe, his hair damp from a fresh shower. He scanned the chaotic room, staring at the clutter in confusion. "What are you doing?" He stepped forward, looking down at the packed suitcases resting on the floor. "Going on a business trip?" I didn't bother offering a long explanation, opting for a quiet hum in response. Taking my response at face value, Cavette assumed I was truly going out of town for work. "Alright. I haven't paid much attention to your work lately, but I heard you got promoted last month?" "It's good to work hard while you're young. Don't slacker off when there's work to be done." "When's your flight? Should I drive you to the airport?" Without lifting my head, I replied flatly, "No need." A proper boyfriend wouldn't be completely unaware that his girlfriend had submitted her resignation a week ago. "The company arranged a car to pick me up. Don't worry about it." "Alright." Cavette let out a small sigh of relief, though his brow furrowed again a second later. "But your mom's surgery is the day after tomorrow. Are you not staying to accompany her?" I clenched my palms tight, staying completely silent. Right on the shelf directly in front of him sat my mother's ashes in a small wooden box. Cavette had been back for hours, yet he hadn't noticed it even once. Seeing my silence, Cavette assumed I was feeling anxious about the surgery. He stepped closer and patted my shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry about it. Go focus on your work trip, and I'll take care of your mom." "I'll be there for her. After all, I'm your boyfriend." I didn't argue. Once everything was packed, I retreated into the study, claiming I had last-minute tasks to handle. In truth, I was just hiding from Cavette, unable to stand looking at his face for another second. Noticing that I wasn't acting as clingy as before, Cavette creased his brows in confusion. "Hailey, what's wrong with you..." Before he could finish his sentence, his phone rang loudly. He picked it up, and Phoebe's frantic voice burst through the speaker: "Mr. Cavette! Rescue me!" "I messed up again! I accidentally sent the internal pricing document to the client instead of the proposal! Please save me!" Cavette's face shifted instantly, but his tone carried a familiar fondness as he scolded her gently. "You silly girl." "Don't touch anything. Wait for me at the office." Just like countless times before, Cavette grabbed his coat, threw out a hasty sentence about an emergency at the office, and rushed out the door. I stood by the window, watching his sports car speed out of the complex. A sudden wave of relief washed over me, and I smiled softly. "Cavette, this time, I'm dumping you." The day I left happened to be the exact day Cavette claimed he took time off to visit my mother at the hospital. Cavette insisted on driving me to the airport early that morning. "Hailey, when you get back from your trip, I'll take you out for a nice dinner." He leaned down, intending to kiss my forehead, but I tilted my head away, dodging his touch. Cavette's expression flickered briefly, but he reached out to pat my hair anyway. "Have a safe flight." I looked up, taking one final, careful look at his face. "Don't forget what you said. You promised to go to the hospital for my mom." "Don't worry, I won't forget." I waited at the terminal for an entire day, but no calls or demands came from Cavette. He didn't realize my mother wasn't at the hospital. Instead, I saw from Phoebe's latest Instagram update that Cavette had spent the entire afternoon accompanying her on a shopping spree downtown. It wasn't until six in the evening that Cavette finally sent me a text: "I'm so sorry, Hailey." "Something urgent came up at the office, and I just finished handling it. I'm rushing over to the hospital right now." I didn't bother replying. I turned off my phone. Whether driving from Phoebe's luxury apartment or his corporate office, getting to that hospital took barely fifteen minutes. In fifteen minutes... Cavette, you will never be able to find me again. Sure enough, it didn't take long before my phone began vibrating frantically in my lap.
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