Chapter 6

Chloe rested her chin on her hand, smiling as she looked at me.

“I thought you wouldn’t come.”

I ordered a black coffee. Chloe seemed surprised.

“You drink black coffee now? I remember you used to hate anything bitter.”

Because of our close relationship as high school desk mates, Chloe was the first person to know about my family background.

But times had changed. Years had eroded our feelings. No one stayed in the past.

I lowered my gaze.

“You’re probably not here to reminisce.”

Chloe stirred her coffee.

“I really didn’t want things to be like this between us. Actually, I quite liked you.”

I smiled, not a mocking laugh, but a genuine one.

The chosen spot was perfect; I could see the sunset outside with a glance.

The setting sun’s rays fell on Chloe and me, as if admiring our beauty.

“About Julian and me, I’m sorry, but I really can’t be without him now.”

My tone was mocking.

“Your feelings seem so deep. Why did you break up before?”

Chloe was rarely stumped, but she quickly recovered, leaning forward with more aggression.

“I know about the love letter, the one he wrote to me.”

“Actually, by now you should probably know why Julian chose you back then, right? It was because I went abroad, and you could be his best stepping stone at the time.”

She mercilessly shattered my illusions, every word stabbing at my heart.

I saw it clearly, yet I still deluded myself, convincing myself that at least the love of these past few years was real.

But hearing the truth from Chloe, my former good friend and the woman Julian once loved, still made me uncontrollably sad.

Gathering my last bit of courage, I met her gaze, stating calmly,

“So what? At least we were happy for all those years, and we genuinely loved each other.”

Chloe wasn't deterred. She looked like a victorious winner already, pulling out her phone and pushing it towards me.

“Read this, then tell me when you two ever loved each other.”

I picked up the phone and scrolled through, my pupils contracting, the air growing thin.

Chloe’s smile in front of me twisted, like a demon’s.

I forgot how I walked out of the coffee shop. I only remembered all my memories with Julian being splattered with paint.

My mind was filled with that chat log.

Chloe and Julian’s messages started in the second year of Julian and my relationship.

At first, it was just polite greetings, then slowly progressing to casual chats, sharing things, then ambiguous messages, and exchanging gifts.

Every word they typed on the phone felt like a slap to my face.

They had even met multiple times over the years. Julian’s frequent excuses about going abroad for “business collaborations” were actually trips to see Chloe.

The year I was undergoing treatment, they met as usual, the overflowing affection on the screen searing my eyes.

How ridiculous. So ridiculous that I couldn't even cry.

It was completely dark now. There was no dramatic rain, like in a movie, to accompany my sorrow. The city went on as usual.

I even felt a strange relief that I had found the love letter, that I had taken my heart back from Julian before seeing those chat logs.

But why did it still hurt so much?

Was love really so hard to let go of?

I walked to my car, then squatted down, burying my head in my knees, unable to speak.

Afraid of being discovered, I didn't even dare to cry out loud.

I don’t know how long passed, until my legs went numb.

Someone gently called out to me. I looked up, my vision blurry from crying for so long.

A man was squatting in front of me, his voice soft, as if afraid to startle me.

“Why are you crying here? Did something happen?”

I suddenly stood up, but my legs were sore and numb from squatting. I stumbled forward and fell into Liam’s arms.

Liam was about to make a playful remark to lighten the somewhat sad atmosphere.

But the person buried in his shoulder began to sob louder. Liam sighed and silently patted my back.

He comforted me just like he did in elementary school when I cried after doing badly on a test.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Everything will pass.”

The voice muffled against his chest, tainted with a sniffle:

“It won’t pass. It’s already too late.”

I knew I shouldn’t be so close to Liam in public, especially after I’d told him just yesterday not to overstep.

But I desperately needed a anchor right now.

Liam had just finished a business meeting and happened to drive by, seeing my familiar car parked. He got out and found me squatting on the ground.

When I buried myself in his arms, a flicker of joy shot through me, but seeing me cry, he felt a rare surge of anger.

He liked me, had for a long time, but it felt like everyone kept getting in the way of his feelings.

Julian’s appearance, the growing distance between our families, and then *that* incident—he felt he had no face to see me.

Going abroad for further studies, he saw more of the world, and his desire for power grew day by day.

And his former affection had twisted into a distorted love.

Liam was no longer afraid; he confronted his desires head-on.

Liam patiently, endlessly comforted me.

He had already noticed Julian standing not far away, staring at us with cold eyes.

Liam’s lips curved into an almost imperceptible smile.

He lowered his head and gently kissed the forehead of the person in his arms.

I was startled by his action, and rationality returned. I quickly pulled away from him.

Liam reined in his emotions and said,

“I apologize, I was out of line.”

I had thrown myself into his arms, so I opened my mouth but had no words. I just blurted out,

“I have something to do,” and got into my car.