Standing next to Sarah, William smiled at me like he was the nicest guy in the world.
"James, I'm sorry, man."
"I'm younger than you—Sarah's just worried about me."
"But tomorrow, I swear, I'll make sure she visits you at the hospital."
Before I could respond, Sarah reached out and ruffled his short hair affectionately.
"This isn't a big deal. He's a grown man—he can take care of himself."
"But you, standing out here in the cold with just that thin shirt on… You'll catch a cold again."
"He drank himself sick—who's fault is that?"
"And come on, it's not like he even drank that much. I bet he's just faking it."
That's when it hit me.
Sarah didn't ignore the fact that I was in pain—she just thought I was putting on a show to get her attention.
In the past, I would've lost it.
I would've demanded an explanation, started a fight, forced her to tell me why she was treating me like this.
But now?
I just glanced at the two of them, then closed my eyes and let the paramedics take me away.
The alcohol burned through my stomach like fire.
But my heart felt like it was sinking into ice water.
Sarah seemed caught off guard by my reaction.
She hesitated for a moment, then scoffed.
"Oh, what's this? A new act?"
"I don't have time for your games."
She grabbed William Johnson's hand and walked toward the parking lot.
I didn't hear what he said, but Sarah giggled and playfully pinched his cheek.
Their laughter drifted through the chilly autumn air, reaching my ears.
I used to love holding hands with Sarah.
But she never wanted to.
She'd always say hands got sweaty, that it was gross and sticky.
Now, I finally accepted it—Sarah never loved me.
The next morning, I couldn't hide it from my parents.
When I woke up, they were sitting by my bed.
My dad's hair was graying at the temples.
My mom's face was lined with worry.
I felt a wave of guilt crash over me.
Mom looked around the room, then frowned.
"You're in the hospital. Where's your girlfriend?"
"And after all these years, she still hasn't come to meet us properly."
Dad didn't say anything, but his expression was just as bad.
This wasn't the first time they'd been unhappy with Sarah.
But every time, I'd jump to defend her.
Before I could this time, Mom shot me a sharp look.
"Don't bother making excuses for her. Your father and I aren't blind."
"I know when you're lying to yourself."
I froze for a second, then let out a bitter laugh.
So they'd known all along. They just never called me out on it.
"I just wanted to ask… about moving back home."
Mom stiffened, then a hint of hope flickered across her face.
"You mean… for work? But what about Sarah…?"
"Yeah. After I take care of things here, I'm coming back."
I didn't say the rest.
But she understood.
When I first graduated, my mom wanted me to come home.
She had connections—a friend in a Fortune 500 company who could get me in.
But Sarah wanted to start a business.
So I stayed.
Now, I was exhausted.
I just wanted to go home.
—
Not long after my parents left, Sarah showed up with a takeout container.
She was wearing a men's dress shirt, the scent of sandalwood clinging to her.
She glanced at the thermos my mom had left by my bed, then looked at me.
"Your parents were here?"
I didn't even look up from my phone.
"Yeah."
She let out a cold laugh.
"So that's why you told me to come this morning? You just wanted them to see me?"
I frowned.
"When did I ask you to come to the hospital?"
Sarah scoffed.
"Don't play dumb."
"William said you texted him, and he told me to be here by noon."
I didn't feel like arguing, so I pulled up my messages with William.
The chat was completely empty.
Sarah still wasn't convinced.
"Texts can be deleted. Don't think I don't know that."
I let out a slow, mocking smile.
"Then why don't you ask your precious William to show you his messages?"
Sarah looked like she was ready to catch me in a lie as she pulled out her phone and called William.
"William, didn't you say James Brown told you to tell me to come to the hospital?"
The moment she spoke, the sound of sniffles came from the other end of the line.
"I'm sorry, Sarah. I lied to you."
"I just… James looked so miserable yesterday, and I felt bad for him. So I made it up."
By the end of his sentence, his voice was hoarse, almost breaking.
Sarah's face softened, full of concern.
Her tone turned impossibly gentle.
"It's okay, it's not your fault."
"You're just too kind—you got fooled by James's little act."
"I don't blame you."
"Didn't you say earlier you were craving coffee from that shop on Westside?"
"I'll grab it for you."
"Don't be sad, alright? I'll be home soon."
Hearing that, I couldn't help but think back to the past.
Last month, I told a harmless little lie to surprise her.
When she found out the truth, she was furious.
"James, do you think I have all the time in the world?"
"You lied to me over something so trivial."
"You know I hate liars, don't you?"
The sound of the hospital room door closing snapped me back to reality.
I pushed down the dull ache in my chest and drafted my resignation letter, sending it straight to HR.
Just as the confirmation popped up on my screen, an unfamiliar number called.
I answered, only to hear my mom's best friend on the other end.
"James! I heard from your mom that you're planning to move back home for work?"
"Well, we can't let good talent go to waste."
"My department could really use someone like you."
"Pay and benefits will be better than anywhere else, I guarantee it."
I smiled and agreed.
"Auntie, as soon as I wrap things up here, I'll come find you."
After hanging up, I saw a notification—someone had tagged me in a post.
It was William's latest update: a live photo of Sarah putting a straw in his coffee.
In the background, her voice cooed affectionately.
"Greedy little thing, don't drink too much. I'm taking you out for a big meal later."
The caption read: "Sarah says this is my reward for telling a ‘harmless little lie.'"
"I'm so lucky to have a boss like her."
"William, you're one lucky guy to marry such an amazing woman."
Sarah commented underneath: "Brat, are you secretly taking pictures of me?"
William's words dripped with smugness and provocation.
I liked the post and casually left a comment:
"She's all yours."
Then, I went to my chat list and unpinned the conversation that had been at the top for seven years.
I changed my lock screen to a default system wallpaper.
Just as I finished, Sarah's name popped up on my phone.
I didn't even need to think—I knew exactly why she was calling.
She wanted to yell at me for that comment.
Without hesitation, I declined the call.
She called again. And again. And again.
When I ignored them all, she switched to texts.
"James, did you seriously just hang up on me?"
"If you keep spouting nonsense and upsetting William, you can forget about keeping your job as director."
I raised an eyebrow at that.
Wasn't that exactly what I wanted?
I replied with a simple, "Got it."
Sarah didn't text back after that.
I didn't care either—I had work to wrap up before leaving.
For the rest of my hospital stay, Sarah never showed up again.
Every day, I saw William posting about what Sarah had done for him—where she took him, what she bought him.
Eventually, I got tired of it and muted his posts.
—-
The day I was discharged, Sarah suddenly texted me, saying she was coming to pick me up and to wait for her at the hospital.
I didn't reply.
And I didn't wait.
I picked up my medication and headed home.
When I walked through the door, the first thing I saw was Sarah, tenderly tending to William's "injury."
I glanced at the tiny cut—it probably didn't even need a band-aid, let alone all this fuss.
I thought back to last year, when I accidentally sliced my hand open on broken glass.
I'd asked Sarah to help me bandage it.
She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"It's just a scratch. Just wrap it up yourself."
"And don't get your dirty blood on my hands."
I ended up taking a cab to the hospital and getting stitches on my own.
William looked up at the sound of the door opening and grinned brightly.
"James, you're back! I cut my hand a little, and Sarah freaked out."
"She insisted on disinfecting it for me."
I barely reacted. "Mm."
William shifted uncomfortably, making a show of wincing.
Sarah clicked her tongue in annoyance.
"Hold still. You're bleeding."
"You need to keep it properly wrapped."
William pouted.
"It's really not a big deal. Sarah just worries too much."
Sarah carefully pressed a band-aid onto his barely-there cut before finally sparing me a glance.
Her tone was mocking.
"What, done faking sick at the hospital?"
"You really wasted a hospital bed over some petty jealousy."
I let out a dry laugh.
So that's what she thought this whole time—that I was just being dramatic.
I didn't bother responding.
I grabbed my meds and headed straight to my room.
Sarah pushed the door open and walked in, her tone commanding.
"Since you're back, go make dinner. William wants barbecue ribs."
I was in the middle of packing and rejected her without a second thought.
"Not happening. Figure it out yourselves."
The moment I said that, Sarah's face twisted with anger.
"What do you mean 'figure it out'?"
"I can't cook, and William's hand is injured."
"Is it really that hard for you to just make dinner?"
I glanced up at her and let out a chuckle.
"That little scratch on his finger is nothing compared to the stitches I got."
"You really call that an injury?"
Before Sarah could reply, William poked his head in from the hallway.
"It's okay, Sarah. I can cook for you."
"You've never tried my cooking, have you?"
Sarah hesitated but eventually gave in to his insistence.
While he was in the kitchen, I went in to grab a glass of water.
For once, William didn't try to rub anything in my face.
He just gave me a knowing look.
I frowned at him, unsure what game he was playing.
But then again, it didn't matter. I was leaving soon anyway.
At noon, I had just taken my meds and lay down to rest when Sarah suddenly stormed in, fuming.
She threw a bowl of food straight at me.
Before I could react, she raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face.
"James, have you really become this cruel?"
"You tried to poison William just because you're jealous?"
"Get out there and apologize right now!"
I stared at her in confusion, about to ask what the hell she was talking about.
But before I could get a word out, she grabbed a framed photo from my nightstand and hurled it at my forehead.
Blood instantly trickled down my face.
William walked in just then, his expression flashing with brief surprise before he smirked at me.
The moment Sarah turned back to him, his face shifted to one of pure innocence.
"Sarah, I know James resents me, but putting peanut butter in my food? I'm allergic…"
"I—"
Sarah cut me off, her voice laced with concern.
"Don't talk to him, William. He's not worth it."
"Let's get you to a doctor."
And just like that, Sarah rushed a completely unharmed William to the hospital, leaving me behind with a bleeding forehead.
I looked down at the shattered picture on the floor.
Sarah's face beamed with happiness in my arms.
Our first photo together.
She used to say it was her favorite.
Ignoring the blood dripping down my face, I picked it up, tore it in half, and tossed it in the trash—along with whatever attachment I had left.
—-
I was packing my suitcase when Sarah returned.
Her gaze swept over the mess by the bed, her voice low.
"Where's the photo?"
"It got dirty, so I threw it away."
She frowned, then scoffed.
"Fine. It's all in the past anyway."
Her phone rang, and instantly, her expression softened into something sickeningly sweet.
"Hey, troublemaker, what now?"
William whined from the other end.
"Sarah, I'm not asking for food again. I just… kinda miss you."
"But if you happened to bring me a cake when you came over, that'd be nice."
Sarah laughed.
"Still trying to act cool when all you want is tiramisu? Alright, I'll bring you one."
She hung up and finally seemed to remember I was still in the room.
Her eyes flickered for a second.
"I was just checking on William. He got hurt because of you."
"Got it."
I didn't bother responding beyond that, just kept making sure I hadn't forgotten anything.
Sarah suddenly leaned in to examine my forehead.
"How's your cut? I was just really mad earlier."
She reached out, but I turned my head slightly, dodging her touch.
In that moment, I noticed faint red marks on her chest.
Sarah stiffened and quickly straightened up.
"It's… mosquito bites."
I shrugged, indifferent.
She was about to say something when William called again, this time impatient.
She rushed toward the door, pausing only to glance back at me.
"I'll be back soon."
"Tomorrow, let's set up a meeting with your parents."
With that, she shut the door behind her.
I grabbed my suitcase and followed her out—but not to the meeting she had in mind.
At the airport, just before takeoff, I sent Sarah one last message:
"We're done."
The plane touched down, and my parents were already waiting for me at the airport.
The moment my mom saw the cut on my forehead, she gasped and reached for me.
"What happened? Are you okay?"
I slung an arm around her shoulders and grinned.
"It's nothing. Just hit my head by accident."
Before she could press further, I changed the subject.
"Mom, I've been craving your butter garlic shrimp."
She rolled her eyes, muttering about how all I cared about was food, but still nudged my dad to go pick up groceries.
It had been a long time since I felt this kind of warmth.
When I was living with Sarah, I was always the one taking care of her.
If I did even the slightest thing that didn't meet her expectations, she'd give me that cold, silent stare.
Seven years together, and all I did was give and give.
In the end, I was the only one moved by my own efforts.
After dinner, I finally checked my phone.
99+ missed calls and unread messages nearly froze the screen.
Most of them were from Sarah.
—
I opened our chat and saw that just as I had sent my breakup text, she had sent her own message:
"Work emergency tonight, staying late."
"Gotta cancel tomorrow's plans."
Then more messages:
"James, what the hell does ‘let's break up' mean?"
"Just because I didn't meet your parents, you're dumping me?"
"So that's why you were acting so weird today, huh?"
"You were just waiting to pull this stunt."
As I scrolled, an incoming call popped up—William.
My thumb twitched, and before I could stop myself, I hit accept.
His voice came through, overly dramatic as always.
"James! Finally, you answer! Sarah's been so worried about you."
"You quitting out of nowhere caused a mess at work."
"This company is Sarah's everything. You can't just do this to her."
Before I could say a word, Sarah grabbed the phone from him.
"James, you're almost thirty years old."
"Can you stop acting like a child?"
"William thinks this is all his fault—he even submitted his resignation over this."
"Are you happy now? Just quit the theatrics and get your ass back here."
"Otherwise, I might have to seriously reconsider this relationship."
Her voice dripped with confidence, as if she believed I was only doing this out of jealousy.
I let out a sharp laugh.
"Don't bother considering. I meant what I said—we're done."
"Don't call me again."
Before she could reply, I ended the call.
Didn't matter if she was losing her mind on the other end.
For good measure, I blocked both of them.
Now, I just wanted to take it easy and spend time with my parents.
Sarah had consumed my life for so long that I barely visited home.
Every time Mom called, I'd brush her off with a rushed excuse about work.
Every holiday, I'd FaceTime them just long enough to say, "Work's crazy, I probably can't make it this year."
And every single time, I could see the disappointment written all over their faces.
Three days after coming home, I took my parents on a beach trip.
Watching them laugh and relax, I felt something I hadn't in years—peace.
But while I was off the grid, Sarah's company imploded.
William, in his infinite wisdom, accidentally leaked confidential company data, nearly bankrupting the whole business.
At the same time, people started digging through William's old social media posts.
Turns out, he had been sharing every little detail about his relationship with Sarah online, growing a massive following as some kind of "boyfriend goals" influencer.
Now, thanks to his mistake, the company had to lay off employees.
One of those employees, furious over losing their job, exposed everything in the comments of his posts.
William was officially outed as a homewrecker.
His fanbase turned on him, roasting him in the replies.
Some even gave him a nickname—"Green Light Special."
But none of that had anything to do with me.
I was finally free.
Or so I thought.
—
Sarah managed to get ahold of me again.
This time, her usual confidence was gone, replaced by desperation and accusations.
"James, you must be loving this, huh? Feeling important for once?"
"You disappeared, and now everything's falling apart."
"Are you seriously not going to take responsibility?"
"People are throwing rotten eggs at our office!"
"William's too scared to leave his apartment!"
"What the hell do you even want from me?!"
Her delusion made me laugh.
Had she finally snapped from the stress?
"Sarah, we're over. Your company's problems have nothing to do with me."
She scoffed, but I could hear the panic creeping into her voice.
"James! I never approved your resignation! I can still come after you for damages!"
I chuckled coldly.
"You might wanna double-check that."
"Pretty sure I never signed a contract with your company."
Silence.
For the first time ever, Sarah had nothing to say.
Back when the company first started, I never thought about leaving, let alone breaking up with Sarah, so I never bothered bringing up a contract.
Even my salary was just Sarah transferring money to me herself.
Right then, my mom called out from the other room.
"James, Olivia's here! Come on out."
I responded and was about to hang up when Sarah's voice snapped through the phone.
"James! Who the hell is Olivia?"
"Are you going on a blind date?"
"Are your parents forcing you to get married?"
"Is that why you're breaking up with me?"
So, she always knew my parents were pressuring us to settle down.
She just never cared.
In her mind, no matter what she did, I would always be there.
Even now, Sarah didn't believe I was serious about the breakup.
She still thought I was just throwing a tantrum.
I didn't feel like wasting another second on this conversation and hung up.
When I stepped into the living room, I saw a mother and daughter sitting on the couch.
The older woman greeted me with a big smile.
"James, when are you starting work?"
The urgency in her voice made me chuckle.
"I have an interview next week."
She waved me off.
"No need for an interview. I already put in a good word."
"A guy like you? The company would roll out the red carpet to have you."
For a moment, I was caught off guard.
At Sarah's company, no one took me seriously.
Anytime someone complimented my work, Sarah would scoff and brush it off.
In her eyes, no matter how much I sacrificed, it was never worth as much as William handing her a single file.
Eventually, people started seeing me as an afterthought.
But now, this woman was telling me they had a position saved just for me.
A management role.
I blinked hard, swallowing the lump in my throat, and quietly thanked her.
Beside me, Olivia grinned.
"James, do you remember me?"
That familiar smile triggered a memory—
A little girl with pigtails, giggling as she ran around.
"Yeah," I nodded, smirking. "I remember."
Olivia must have noticed my mood, because she spent the whole dinner reminiscing about our childhood.
Slowly, she pulled me into those lighthearted memories.
Before leaving, we exchanged numbers.
It felt nice to have a friend like her.
—
The next day, under my mom's best friend's insistence, I showed up at the company.
Sitting in my own office, I still felt a little dazed.
But as soon as I got to work, I lost myself in it.
The next time I looked at the clock, it was 12:30.
Olivia popped in, grinning.
"Lunch?"
That's when I noticed her company-branded polo.
"Wait—you work here?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Did you even check your messages?"
I shrugged.
"Been busy."
I pulled out my phone and saw a message from her an hour ago—
A picture of her ID badge.
Turns out, she was the assistant director of PR.
As we walked out of the building, a familiar car caught my eye.
I glanced at it, my gut telling me who it belonged to, but I dismissed the thought.
Sarah? Here? No way.
I kept walking, laughing with Olivia—
Until a sharp voice sliced through the air.
"James! Stop right there."
I ignored it.
Sarah stormed up behind me, yanking on my arm.
"Are you deaf?!"
My jaw tightened.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
She scoffed, crossing her arms.
"You win, James."
"You went through all this just to force me to meet your parents, just to push me into marrying you."
"Fine. You got what you wanted."
"
I'll go home with you and meet them."
Then, she cut a glare at Olivia, sneering.
"And you? You really think dating some random chick is gonna make me jealous?"
"Pathetic."
I opened my mouth to shut her down, but Olivia beat me to it.
"Wow, look at you."
She smirked, tilting her head.
"Ever heard the saying? A good ex is like a dead ex."
Sarah turned red.
"Ex? What ex? I'm his girlfriend."
"We're about to meet his parents!"
She reached for my arm.
I stepped back before she could touch me.
I gave her a cold, indifferent look and said impatiently:
"Sarah, I meant it when I said we're done."
"You don't need to meet my parents anymore."
"Just walk away while you still have some dignity."
Sarah stared at me in disbelief, a flicker of hurt crossing her face.
Seeing her eyes well up made something tighten in my chest.
But I kept my expression blank, my voice completely detached.
"Sarah, let me say this one last time. I'm not being petty or irrational."
"I'm serious about this breakup."
"I'm not going back with you, and I won't be involved in your company anymore."
"From now on, we're strangers."
"The kind that don't even acknowledge each other on the street. That's it."
Then, I took Jessica's hand and walked away.
Behind me, Sarah yelled, completely losing her composure:
"James! You're dumping me for trash like her?!"
"You think I can't live without you?!"
"Watch me. I'll be better off than ever."
"But if you take one more step with that woman, we're done for good!"
I didn't turn back, no matter what she screamed.
I'd felt that heartbreak once. That was enough.
Inside the restaurant, Jessica shook her head and sighed dramatically.
"James, I seriously question your taste in women."
"Seven years with that?"
I let out a long sigh.
Couldn't argue with that.
—
During dinner, Jessica got curious.
"So, how'd you and Sarah even get together in the first place?"
My hand paused midair, past memories playing in my head like a movie.
Freshman year.
I was class president, and somehow, I lost the class funds.
Some people started whispering that I stole the money.
The rumors spread like wildfire, and by the time my advisor called me in, I realized that "the truth will come out eventually" was complete bullshit.
Just when I thought I was screwed, Sarah stepped in.
She posted in the class group chat, saying I had already reported it to the police and whoever took the money should confess.
I thought it was a dumb bluff. Who'd fall for that?
Turns out, everyone.
The next day, the real thief turned himself in.
I asked Sarah, "What if I really had taken it?"
She just laughed, all smug.
"No way. I've got a good read on people."
"The moment I met you, I knew you weren't that kind of guy."
When the whole world doubted me, Sarah was the light in my darkness.
After that, we got closer.
By her birthday, I confessed, and we started dating.
But as time passed, I realized I was never Sarah's only priority.
Still, I held on.
I gave and gave, hoping it would mean something.
In the end, I was just setting myself up to be torn apart.
Jessica clutched her throat dramatically.
"Damn, that's some toxic fate right there."
Her exaggerated voice made me laugh, breaking through the lingering sadness.
Then, her expression softened.
She looked at me, totally serious.
"You look better when you smile."
"Stop dwelling on the past, James."
"There's a whole future waiting for you."
Something about the way she said it made my face heat up, and I instinctively turned away.
Sarah disappeared for a while after that.
The next time I heard her name, it was from an old assistant of mine.
One ordinary afternoon, he called me out of the blue.
"James, I just lost my job."
I froze for a second.
"What happened?"
This guy was good at what he did, better than most in that company.
Then, he told me.
Sarah's company was about to go under.
The day she stormed off, William introduced her to a "big client."
My old assistant saw the deal and knew it was a trap.
He warned Sarah, but she brushed him off, convinced he was just trying to sabotage her on my orders.
And because he said something, she got even more stubborn about proving him wrong.
Out of pride, out of spite—she bet everything on that deal.
Then, after she emptied the company's accounts, both William and the "client" disappeared.
Sarah refused to believe it.
Until the police showed up yesterday.
They said her company was involved in an overseas scam.
Every asset under her name was frozen.
Only then did she finally accept that she'd been played.
My old assistant said Sarah locked herself in her office for an entire day and night.
Then, the next morning, she walked out and announced the company was shutting down.
She promised everyone would get their severance once her accounts were unfrozen.
Hearing all this, I couldn't help but feel… something.
After all, that company started with me.
And now, it was gone.
I said a few words to comfort my old assistant before hanging up.
And then, I put the whole thing behind me.
That night, I had just gotten home from work when the doorbell rang.
I had ordered some late-night food, so I didn't think twice before opening the door.
"This time, what's—"
The words caught in my throat when I saw who was standing there.
—
Sarah.
The smile on my face disappeared instantly.
She looked exhausted, her eyes red and puffy from crying.
Her voice was hoarse as she spoke.
"James, I came to see your parents."
I was already drained from work, but that didn't stop me from making myself clear.
My voice was cold as I said,
"I've told you at least three times that we're done."
"So why the hell would you be seeing my parents?"
Hearing the word "breakup" again, Sarah didn't scoff like last time.
Instead, she looked at me with desperation.
"I never agreed to break up."
"So whatever you said doesn't count."
For a second, I genuinely wondered if she had lost her mind.
But then, it clicked. I knew exactly why she was doing this.
I looked at her blankly, my patience wearing thin.
"Sarah, I wasn't asking for your permission."
"I was informing you."
"If you still don't get it, let me make it clearer—Sarah, I don't want you anymore."
Her eyes filled with tears as she clutched my hand, her voice barely above a whisper.
"James, I've lost everything. I can't lose you too."
Before I could respond, my mom's voice called from behind me.
"Who are you talking to at the door?"
Instinctively, I stepped forward, blocking Sarah from view.
"Just Mike," I called back.
"He wants to grab some late-night food. I'm heading out for a bit."
With that, I shut the door behind me, leading Sarah away.
I kept my tone flat as I said,
"My parents don't want to see you."
"And whatever it is, don't drag them into it."
Ten minutes later, we were sitting across from each other in a 24-hour coffee shop.
I leaned back in my chair lazily.
"Say what you need to say."
Sarah forced a smile, but it looked more painful than comforting.
"James, I came to see your parents."
"And while we're at it… let's go get married tomorrow."
I let out a short laugh, unable to hide my amusement.
"Sarah, do you actually think you're that irresistible?"
"Or do you just assume I'm a complete idiot?"
"Your company is bankrupt. You're under fraud investigation."
"Why the hell would I still be with you?"
She stared at me in shock, clearly not expecting me to say that out loud.
"James, you said you'd always love me."
"How can you just walk away because I made one mistake?"
One mistake?
I couldn't believe the audacity.
I didn't even bother arguing.
Instead, I pulled up the video William had sent me after I left.
I placed my phone in front of her.
Sarah watched the screen in horror as the footage played.
Her face went completely pale.
She stammered, her voice shaky,
"W-where did you get this?"
"It's fake!"
"My competitors must have edited it to turn you against me!"
"This isn't real—I would never betray you."
Her desperate lies only made me laugh.
"Sarah, if you're gonna lie, at least put some effort into it."
"You're not even making sense."
She kept denying it.
But the way her eyes darted around, the way she couldn't even meet my gaze—
It was pathetic.
I sighed and stood up.
"If that's all, I'm leaving."
—-
Sarah grabbed my hand, her grip tight with desperation.
"Seeing your parents isn't important to you?"
"Getting married isn't important to you?"
"James, as long as you don't leave me, I'll do whatever you want."
"I'll stay right here—I won't go back. We can get married and have a baby."
"Your parents always wanted you to settle down, right?"
"We can give them exactly what they want."
Her words made something inside me snap.
I was beyond done.
"Sarah, how many times do I have to say this?"
"We. Are. Over."
"There's no meeting my parents."
"There's no marriage. None of this is happening."
She shook her head frantically, her eyes bloodshot.
"No, you don't mean that. You're just mad at me."
"You said you'd always love me—I don't believe you'd do this to me."
I let out a cold laugh.
"Sarah, I already have a girlfriend. Why the hell would I still love you?"
With that, I pulled out my phone and made a call.
"Babe, come meet me at the coffee shop downstairs."
Sarah kept forcing a smile, insisting this wasn't real.
But the second she saw Jessica walk through the door, that smile vanished.
"James… you're really with her?"
I raised an eyebrow and met her gaze, speaking each word slowly and clearly.
"She's my girlfriend."
"I'd appreciate it if you stopped showing up uninvited—it makes her uncomfortable."
Jessica looped her arm through mine, giving Sarah a pointed look.
"Miss, have some self-respect and quit harassing my boyfriend."
Then, just to drive the point home, she stood on her toes and kissed me on the cheek.
Sarah stared at us, frozen, mumbling over and over, "No… this isn't real… this can't be happening."
I didn't acknowledge her any further.
Taking Jessica's hand, I led her out of the café.
As we stepped outside, Sarah broke down in tears behind us.
Once we were a block away, Jessica grinned up at me.
"Wasn't my performance top-tier?"
I chuckled.
"You're wasted in PR—you should be on Broadway."
She beamed.
"So, how are you gonna thank me?"
I smirked.
"How about some late-night food?"
Jessica's eyes lit up.
"Seafood boil!"
"I was thinking burgers and fries."
That sparked a whole debate as we walked down the street, arguing about the superior choice.
In the end, rock-paper-scissors sealed the deal—seafood it was.
Sarah still showed up outside my apartment from time to time after that night.
But she had no power over me anymore.
I wasn't dwelling on the past.
Because I knew my future was looking pretty damn good.
