Chapter 7

"Don't drink it! It's dirty!"

Bethany quickly stopped him.

"It's not dirty."

Alex shook his head, his eyes incredibly gentle,

"How could something you made with your own hands be dirty?"

He gulped down the soup, praising how delicious it was, as if he hadn't been the one to disdain it just moments before.

I stood by, watching Alex's happy expression.

I suddenly remembered a time when I had a fever and, despite feeling weak, cooked a bowl of noodles for Alex, who was staying up late playing games.

But because I was so hungry, I took a bite myself.

As a result, he threw the bowl and noodles into the trash right in front of me.

Back then, Alex had severe潔癖, and he would disdain anything I touched.

But now, he was actually eating something he picked out of the trash.

Just because it was "handmade" by Bethany.

I gave a self-deprecating smile, unsure if I was laughing at him or at myself.

As I turned to leave, I heard Alex's gentle voice from the hospital room:

"Sweetie, don't do these things anymore. You getting hurt hurts me more than my own injuries…"

I closed my eyes and quickly left the hospital.

In the days that followed, I stayed at home packing my luggage.

I folded my clothes one by one into my suitcase. Each item I packed felt like sealing away a memory from the past.

My phone screen occasionally lit up with notifications from our mutual friends' group chat.

He took her to various galas, introduced her to family and friends, eager to announce to the world that he had found his ideal partner.

The pictures in the group chat, one after another, displayed their intimacy.

Alex with his arm around Bethany's waist, his eyes so gentle they could drip water.

Alex leaning down to adjust Bethany's skirt, his movements careful and tender.

Alex publicly kissing Bethany's forehead at the banquet, drawing cheers and whistles…

Everyone said Alex was truly in love this time.

I scrolled through them quietly. Strangely, the pain in my chest gradually grew fainter.

Like a wound that had scabbed over; it might still throb faintly, but at least it was no longer bleeding.

Two days before my departure, I met a few close friends at The Grand Gala Lounge for a farewell.

"Alice, are you really leaving?"

My best friend, Chloe, held my hand,

"Not coming back?"

"No, I won't be back."

I took a sip of wine,

"The London Symphony Orchestra is my dream. From now on, I'll focus on my career."

The private room suddenly grew quiet. My friends exchanged glances, hesitating to speak.

"That's good too,"

Chloe finally broke the silence,

"A change of scenery, a fresh start."

I smiled, raising my glass:

"To new beginnings."

After a few rounds of drinks, I got up to use the restroom.

Passing by the adjacent private room, a familiar voice made me pause.

"Alex, are you crazy? You've only known her for less than a month and you want to propose? Didn't you used to say people who rushed into marriage were idiots?"

I instinctively stopped, peeking through the half-open door.

I saw Alex leaning back in his chair, a rare, gentle smile playing on his lips.

"That was before I met Bethany. When Alice was chasing me, I thought she was crazy too. How could anyone be so fixated on another person?"

My fingertips dug into my palm.

"Until I met Bethany."

Alex's eyes suddenly softened,

"The first time I saw her, I knew I wanted to spend my life with her. When she smiles, I'm happy; when she cries, my heart aches. My emotions are completely tied to her. My gaze always follows her involuntarily…"

He paused, then pulled a velvet box from his pocket:

"I've been planning this proposal since the first day we got together. I'm so afraid she'll belong to someone else. I have to make her my wife as soon as possible."

The private room erupted in gasps.

"It's normal for hormones to be running high, but you're too deep! At least spend another six months together…"

"I can't wait a day."

Alex's voice was firm,

"I've never longed for marriage and a family so much."