Chapter 2

“You shouldn’t have come looking for me today.”

Julian’s voice was clean and low, yet it carried a chilling edge—the kind of coldness reserved for women he was done with.

We sat across from each other, a table separating us. But it wasn’t just a table; it was a chasm of class.

Julian came from a powerful, old-money family, deeply entrenched in politics and business.

The only reason I, a grad student at a prestigious university, even knew a man from such an elite background was because I’d worked so hard to get where I was.

I thought my excellent grades and looks made me special to him. After all, he’d been so good to me this past year. That ring was the best proof.

But I’d overestimated myself. A man giving you a ring doesn’t mean anything.

I looked at him with a hint of mockery. “Does your fiancée know you’ve been dating me all this time?” I pushed.

“I’m really curious, Julian. When you bought me that ring and made all those promises, did you ever think about how you’d explain it away today?”

My eyes were still red, and I tried to keep my voice steady. “May the deceitful choke on a thousand thorns!”

If he’d had a fiancée all along, then this entire year—our dates, our hugs, our kisses, our passionate nights—they were all just a sordid affair?

Julian’s gaze involuntarily darkened, and he simply mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

“You suddenly disappeared because you were afraid I’d cling to you, right? You shouldn't underestimate me, and you certainly shouldn't overestimate yourself. I just needed a formal breakup. There’s no need to imagine me as some desperate woman clinging to you.”

I fought hard to hold back the tears. If even one fell now, I’d truly be defeated.

Just then, a little girl selling flowers came by with a basket full of roses.

“Mister, buy a flower for your girlfriend! She looks like she’s about to cry.”

Julian’s distant gaze flickered slightly, and he finally uttered, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

The little flower girl shook her head, not believing him. Her voice was soft.

“You’re lying! Last time you two were here, you bought a whole basket of flowers from me for this lady! You guys must have had a fight, right?” She continued, “My mom says lovers should learn to apologize.”

Last summer, Julian had indeed bought a bouquet from that little girl and given it to me.

At the time, it felt like nothing special, but today, it felt like a sharp blade piercing my heart.

The flower girl left.

Before Julian walked away, he took a call. His voice wasn’t too loud or too soft; I could hear it perfectly. His fiancée was playfully whining on the phone.

“Julian, when you come home, remember to buy me flowers. You promised that no matter how much we fought, you’d always be the one to apologize and comfort me.”

“Okay, I’ll apologize first and comfort you. Are tulips okay?”

Julian’s tone was so gentle. Even during our sweetest moments, he had never spoken to me with such tenderness.

I momentarily zoned out, then caught my reflection in the store’s decorative mirror behind him. My face was filled with pure envy. I looked just like a discarded doll, still longing to be picked up by its owner.

I instantly pulled my gaze from his phone, trying to keep my face calm and my dignity intact. It wasn’t until he was gone that I realized my face was completely soaked with tears.

Before Julian left, I, as if possessed, asked, “You don’t want me anymore, do you?”

He was in a hurry to go buy flowers for his fiancée and simply dropped, “Yes, I don’t,” before walking away.