For three years, I was Damon’s girlfriend, and in his circle, I was famous for it. I was the perfect, ride-or-die girlfriend. I never checked his phone. I never cared how many other women he flirted with. I never started a fight, no matter how late he came home. Damon was proud of it. He’d brag to his friends about how much I loved him. Until one day, he stumbled upon the old social media account I shared with my first love. The me in those posts was possessive and jealous, a universe away from the emotionally stable woman I was now. In one video, my ex was laughing, a helpless look on his face. “Why are you always so angry?” he teased. My voice, full of righteous indignation, shot back, “I only get angry because I love you! If I didn’t, I wouldn’t give a damn.” Damon froze. 1 When I ran into Damon at the bar, a beautiful girl in a crop top and shorts was perched on his lap. Her slender arms were wrapped around his neck, her glossy lips parted in a dazzling smile as she leaned in close. A few of his married friends were already getting up to leave, making their apologies. “Sorry, Damon, man. The wife’s got me on lockdown. She’s already called three times. If I’m not home soon, I’m sleeping on the couch.” Damon let the girl on his lap pluck the cigarette from his mouth and place it between her own lips. He scoffed. “You’re all pathetic. Getting whipped by a woman.” His single friends hooted. “That’s our Damon! No matter what time he gets home, Callie never says a word. You gotta teach us your ways, man!” The girl in his arms giggled, pressing herself against him. “Yeah, Damon. Aren't you afraid your girlfriend will see you with me and get mad?” A flicker of pride crossed his face. “She’s crazy about me. She’d do anything I say. We’ve been together three years, and she’s never once started a fight.” “Damn! That’s our guy!” The men around him laughed, their faces full of envy. “All these years, Damon’s been playing the field, and she’s never dared to say a thing. That’s a real man—” His words died in his throat. He’d spotted me standing a few feet away, my expression blank. Damon saw me too. There was no panic in his eyes, just a casual arrogance. He pushed the girl off his lap and beckoned me over with a lazy flick of his wrist. “What are you doing here?” I hesitated for a beat before walking over. “I’m here with friends.” The girl who’d been pushed away shot me a dirty look, then forced a tight smile. “Callie.” Up close, I recognized her. The new secretary at Damon’s company. Mia, I think her name was. She’d gone to some no-name state school, but Damon had seen her resume photo and hired her on the spot. I guess it didn’t take him long to seal the deal. I ignored her. Damon was clearly drunk. His handsome eyes were watery, devastatingly beautiful under the hazy club lights. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him. “Didn’t even tell me you were coming out. Give me a kiss.” He leaned in. I flinched away instinctively. I had no idea if he’d already kissed Mia. The thought of it was disgusting. Damon’s expression soured, the smile vanishing from his lips. He was the one sitting, but his gaze was somehow condescending. “Callie, what the hell is that supposed to mean?” I turned my head slightly. “You’re drunk.” “Are you saying you’re too good for me?” My rejection, especially in front of his friends, was a direct blow to his ego. His eyes went cold. He yanked Mia back onto his lap, his hand gripping the back of her head. A triumphant look flashed across her face as she surrendered to his kiss. Right there, in front of me, they shared a deep, messy kiss. When they finally broke apart, Mia was breathless, a thin, silvery thread of saliva connecting their lips for a moment. She shot me a smug, victorious smile. Damon looked at me, his eyes full of challenge. The rest of his friends went silent, their gazes fixed on me. They were all waiting for the explosion. No woman would tolerate her boyfriend doing that. Surely, this was my breaking point. I just met his gaze and said calmly, “You’re drunk. I’m leaving.” As I walked away, I heard one of his friends whisper in awe. “Holy shit, her composure is insane. She’s not even mad!” “That’s Damon for you. He’s got her trained. She’s too scared to piss him off and get dumped.” “She’s just that in love. I heard she chased him for a whole year. Does whatever he says. She’s completely hooked.” Damon let out a short, contemptuous laugh. “She’d never leave me. She doesn’t have the guts to get angry.” The late winter air was sharp as a knife. It had started snowing at some point, fat flakes swirling in the air, turning red in the taillights of cars, then yellow under the streetlamps. I tightened my scarf and leaned against a brick wall, lighting a cigarette. The menthol flavor mixed with the cold air, a sharp sting in my lungs. It was my first love’s favorite brand. I used to beg him for a puff, and he would always scold me. “Callie, are you crazy? If I ever catch you smoking, I’ll kill you!” The day we broke up, I bought my first pack. I smoked it between fits of coughing. After that, there was no one left to stop me. I don’t smoke much anymore. But sometimes, when the feelings bubble up, I can’t help it. Watching Damon kiss someone else didn’t make me angry. Because I didn’t love him at all. 2 I was the one who pursued Damon. I first saw him at the opening of a new bar he’d invested in. The table in front of him was crowded with bottles, and he was surrounded by beautiful women laughing at his jokes. His face captured the attention of every girl in the room. I remember a lot of them asked for his number that night. So did I. Many women wanted Damon, but I was the most persistent. For a year, I was at his beck and call. One word from him, and I would drop everything and appear, no matter how far. Damon’s reputation as a player was well-known. He was never without a woman on his arm. Even if he’d just spent the night with someone else, if he called, I’d go pick him up. I never asked questions. I never said a word. I’d just go home and make him a pot of tea to sober him up. Everyone thought I was desperately in love with him. They said my family was a disgrace—first bankruptcy, and now their only daughter was acting like a doormat for the young master of the Harrison family. We finally got together after a night we both drank too much and ended up in the same bed. I only remember that he was rough, and that I cried a lot, clinging to him the whole time. The next morning, Damon looked at the marks on my body and my swollen eyes, and for a rare moment, he seemed to soften. He lit a cigarette and asked casually, “Do you want to be with me?” “But let’s get one thing straight,” he added, the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Don’t try to control me. I hate that.” I stared at the comforter for a long moment. “Okay,” I said. Damon always thought those were tears of joy. He never knew that day was my first love’s birthday. His profile looked so much like my ex’s. I’d noticed it the first time I saw him, across a crowded room. That night, in the dim light, for just a fleeting second, it felt like he was back with me. … I was with Valet Conn from the time I was seventeen until I was twenty-five. We were together for eight years. He was the only scholarship student at our elite private high school. I heard his family used to be wealthy, but his father was betrayed by a business partner, went bankrupt, and couldn’t handle the blow. He took his own life. Valet’s mother, who was already in poor health, died soon after. Overnight, he went from being a golden boy to an orphan with nothing. But Valet bounced back quickly. He was never arrogant or self-pitying. He held the top rank in a school full of rich kids and was even elected student body president. Who wouldn’t fall for a guy like that? I asked him out many times, and he always turned me down. But I never gave up. Plenty of girls liked him, but they all eventually moved on after being rejected. I was the only one who persisted. Finally, just before graduation, on my sixth attempt, he asked me with a weary sigh, “What is it you even like about me?” My face was flushed, my eyes welling up with tears of frustration. I just knew that I loved him. Sometimes, there’s no reason for it. “I just like you! I like everything about you!” His expression was complicated. After a long pause, he said softly, “But I have nothing. I can’t give you anything. Do you still like me, even like this?” “Yes!” I shouted. “Valet, I have my limits too! If you say no this time, I swear I’ll never ask you again!” He looked at me for a long time, then let out a deep breath, a sound of resignation and surrender. He gently pulled me into a hug. “You’re an idiot.” My eyes went wide. My heart, which had stopped for a beat, began to pound furiously. It was the first time I ever truly understood what it felt like to be ecstatic. It was true—when you’re that happy, it really does feel like fireworks are going off in your chest. We were together after that. He was a brilliant student; I wasn’t. To be with me, he intentionally missed a couple of big questions on his college entrance exams so we could get into the same university. When I found out, I cried my eyes out. He just held me and laughed. “Silly girl, what are you crying for? It doesn’t matter where I go to school. Don’t worry. I won’t let you suffer.” It wasn't an empty promise. By his sophomore year, he’d started his own company with some friends and made his first real money. The year we graduated, he bought a huge penthouse apartment in the city center and had it decorated exactly to my taste. It was going to be our home. Everything was perfect. Our future plans only included each other. Neither of us ever doubted we would end up together. Until the day I took him home to meet my parents. I saw the color drain from my father’s face. Valet swayed on his feet, his own face turning ghost-white. That was when I learned that my father was the business partner who had betrayed Valet’s father, the man who had destroyed his family. Life can be so cruel. Because my father was always away on business, Valet had never met him. We never could have imagined it. That day, my father told my mother and me to leave the room. He wanted to talk to Valet alone. Not long after, Valet left the country. He didn’t leave a note. He didn’t say a word. The man who would cross half the country just because I said I missed him, the man who promised to love me forever, who got down on one knee with tears in his eyes and asked me to marry him, saying that with me, he finally had a home… he just abandoned me. And I couldn’t even hate him for it. It was my father who had ruined his life. Who wouldn’t feel that hatred? If I were in his shoes, I would have hated me too. Maybe it was karma. Not long after, my father’s investments failed, and he took his own life. My family went bankrupt. Meanwhile, Valet thrived abroad. He had a brilliant eye for investment, and in just a few years, his company went public on the Nasdaq. He became a famous tech mogul. Our situations had completely reversed. We had no reason to ever cross paths again. It was impossible. So when I saw Damon, for the first time in years, my dead heart seemed to flicker back to life. For me, who I was with didn’t matter anymore. Damon looked so much like Valet. That alone felt like a gift from heaven. For the sake of that face, I was at his beck and call for years. Whenever he needed me, I was there. No matter how late he was out, no matter which woman he was with, one call and I would get out of bed to bring him home. My birthday, our anniversaries—he remembered none of them. On my actual birthday, he was out with some new girl he’d met. Damon had always been a playboy. Being with me didn’t change him. A few times, other women even came to confront me directly. I could tell he wanted to break up, that he was trying to provoke a fight. But I never got jealous. I never made a scene. Over time, he got used to me. He and his friends all thought I was pathetically, hopelessly in love with him. The truth was, I just didn't care. All I wanted was to see that face in the middle of the night, to pretend, just for a moment, that Valet was still with me. That fantasy was the only thing that kept me going. 3 It was one of Damon’s friends’ birthdays. Everyone brought their partners. Damon brought me. I wasn’t surprised to see Mia there. She sat down next to Damon as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Callie,” she said with a saccharine smile. “You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” Damon glanced at me. I said nothing. The smile on his face faded, replaced by a cold sneer. He wrapped his arm around Mia’s shoulders. She was clearly infatuated with him. Throughout the dinner, she was constantly toasting him, leaning in to whisper in his ear, laughing and draping herself over him. I wasn't angry. I just ate my food quietly. One of Damon’s friends clicked his tongue in admiration. He turned to his own girlfriend. “Look at her. So classy. Not like you, getting jealous over every little thing. You should learn from her.” His girlfriend, who was a little drunk, scoffed. “I care because I love you! If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t care!” Maybe it was a coincidence, but the table went silent. Damon had obviously heard her. The smile was still plastered on his face, but the veins on the hand holding his glass bulged. His friend paled and immediately started backtracking. “My girlfriend’s had too much to drink. Sorry, Damon. She didn’t mean anything by it.” His girlfriend started apologizing too. Damon didn’t say anything. His eyes were on me. I looked away. “Aren’t you even a little bit angry?” he asked suddenly. “What is there to be angry about?” I said, genuinely confused. “Isn’t this the freedom you always wanted?” I got to see his face. He got his freedom. We were both getting what we wanted. What was the problem? After all, from the very beginning, he had warned me not to control him. He’d never stopped seeing other women. I thought this was how he liked it. But he seemed displeased. He pulled Mia even closer, until she was practically sitting in his lap. They started making out right in front of me, a wet, open-mouthed kiss. It was as if I wasn’t even there. No one else seemed surprised, though a few people shot me sympathetic looks. I scrolled through my phone, waiting for the night to be over. As the evening wore on, Mia got bolder. She was clearly making a play to replace me. She looked me up and down and said loudly, “An iPhone 12? That’s so retro. Are you trying to be ironic?” I ignored her, which only seemed to fuel her. “I’d almost forgotten what they look like. It’s practically an antique. I’m actually curious. Let me see it, Callie.” “No,” I said, my grip tightening on my phone. “Damon, make her show me! It’s just a phone, what’s the big deal?” When I didn’t respond, Damon frowned. “She wants to see it. Just let her.” “No.” “Damon~” Mia whined, tugging on his arm. Annoyed that I had defied him, his face went cold. He held out his hand. “Give me the phone.” I stayed silent. “What’s on there, anyway?” Mia added, fanning the flames. “Something you don’t want people to see?” A dark look entered Damon’s eyes. He lunged for my phone. “What are you doing?!” I gasped. We struggled, and the phone flew out of my hand. I instinctively shoved him away to catch it. He stumbled back, hitting his hip on the corner of the table. He swore under his breath. “What is wrong with you, Callie? It’s just a stupid phone! If it breaks, I’ll buy you a new one—” His words cut off. He was staring at the screen, which had lit up as it fell. The video I had been watching earlier had started playing again. It was from when I was still with Valet. I was on his back, not realizing he was recording, complaining petulantly. “Why did you talk to that girl for so long today?!” Valet’s voice was full of fond exasperation. “She’s the vice president of the student council. We were talking about official business. You’re unbelievable. Are you an industrial-sized vat of jealousy?” That only made me angrier. “I’m only jealous because I love you! If I didn’t love you, you could go drop dead for all I care!” Valet just laughed, hoisting me higher on his back. “Alright, alright, you love me. I get it. I guess I should be happy, then?” I poked him. “From now on, no talking to other girls. No adding other girls on social media. No liking anyone else!” “Okay, okay, whatever you say. Where did you get this temper…?” The video kept playing. I snatched the phone and turned it off. Damon was frozen, his posture unchanged. The table was dead silent. No one had expected this. In the next second, Damon grabbed the phone from my hand and smashed it on the floor. On pure instinct, I slapped him across the face. Then I dropped to my knees, scrambling to pick up the pieces. It was the last thing I had of Valet. The phone was shattered beyond repair, the screen completely black. I clutched it to my chest, then slowly turned to look at Damon. It hadn’t been a hard slap. But he was stunned. He didn’t even touch his face. He just stared at me, a look of utter confusion in his eyes, as if he were seeing me for the first time. Everyone else was in shock. You could have heard a pin drop. A part of me regretted it, but another part felt a strange sense of relief. I hadn’t meant to hit him. It was just a reflex. But now, it was done. I knew this was the end. I stood up, grabbed my purse, and walked out. As I left, I sent him one last text. “We’re done.” 4 I was wandering aimlessly down the street when I saw a familiar back in the crowd. In that instant, the world went silent. The sound of traffic, the city noise—it all disappeared. All I could hear was my own heart, which had stopped for a beat before starting to hammer against my ribs. It looked so much like Valet. I ran, pushing through the crowd, but by the time I got to the corner, he was gone, swallowed by the sea of people. I stood there for a long time, lost, until a car horn blared behind me, and I moved on, my mind a complete blank. It seemed to be snowing a lot that winter. I sat on a park bench, and it was only when I felt the cold tickle of snowflakes on my eyelashes that I realized the world around me had turned white. I curled into myself, not wanting to move. I had nowhere to go. After my father died, my mother quickly remarried and moved abroad. I didn’t have a home anymore. Valet had given me a home once, and then he’d left me alone in it. My life with Damon? That was never a home. I had places to stay, but no home to return to. A tear traced a path down my cold cheek. I wiped it away and was about to stand up when a shadow fell over me. I thought it was Damon, coming to find me. I looked up, and my breath caught in my throat. The face that had haunted my dreams for years was standing right in front of me, blurring the line between fantasy and reality. I couldn’t tell which was which. My hand trembled, but I didn’t dare to reach out. The snow seemed to melt in Valet’s eyes. For a split second, I thought the man who had loved me was back. “I’m back,” he said softly. … I don’t remember how I got to Valet’s apartment. I just remember clinging to him, crying, refusing to let go, until he finally gave up and just held me on the bed, patting my back. “Stop crying,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re going to give yourself a headache.” I couldn’t form a coherent sentence, just choked out, “When… when did you get back?” “A few months ago.” That only made me cry harder. “Then why did it take you so long to find me?!” He looked down, his eyes filled with a complicated emotion I couldn’t read. “I heard you were with someone. I didn’t know if I should interfere.” “Then why are you here now?” “I couldn’t stay away.” He sounded like he was admitting defeat. “I can’t forget you, Callie. I can’t let you go. I missed you so much it was killing me. I give up. I just… can’t.” I stopped crying and sat up. Valet leaned in. In the cold winter night, with snow falling outside, his kiss was searing hot. Neither of us spoke. We had been together for so long, we didn’t need words. There was no awkwardness, no strangeness. We knew each other’s bodies too well. It wasn’t about lust; it was about longing, about possession, about reclaiming what was lost. I clung to him, terrified that this was all a dream. I could feel him holding me just as tightly. In a trembling embrace that bordered on pain, we finally, truly found each other again. When I woke up, it was light out. It was still snowing, the sky a heavy, oppressive gray. The space beside me in the bed was empty. Panic seized me. I scrambled out of bed, my heart pounding, and almost collided with Valet as he came back into the room. The light was dim, casting shadows across his sharp features. His lips were still swollen and red. He was devastatingly handsome. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and grabbed his arm. “I thought…” I thought you were a dream. In the years we’d been apart, I’d had so many dreams about him. The joy of seeing him was always followed by the crushing disappointment of waking up. I buried my face in his chest, and after a long moment, I gathered the courage to ask. “You’re back now… are you going to leave again? Because of my father…” He rested his chin on the top of my head. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “At the time, I just… couldn’t accept it. I didn’t know what to do. I truly hated him, and because of that, I couldn’t help but hate you too. All these years, I’ve been torn between hating you and loving you. I thought I was going crazy. I saw a therapist, but it didn’t help.” “I kept dreaming about you,” he said, his voice soft, his hand finding mine. “I’d dream you were crying, asking me why I left you. It broke my heart. I’d wake up and just… smoke all night. I didn’t know what to do, Callie. What was I supposed to do?” “It took me a long time to figure it out. Your father was your father. You are you. What he did has nothing to do with you. And now… he’s gone. I’m willing to let it go. We can start over.” He pulled me tighter. “I’m not leaving again. Never again. That apartment wasn't right for us. I bought a new place. We can decorate it together. Okay?” My eyes stung with tears. I hugged him back. “Okay.” The sun broke through the clouds. The snow had stopped. My world was finally bright again.
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