Watching them disappear down the hallway, a sharp, needle-like pain pricked at my heart.
But all I could do was laugh bitterly at how pathetic it all felt.
In my past life, I got what I wanted—Serena became my girlfriend. Yet, happiness never followed.
On my birthday, I hoped for nothing more than a simple celebration with her. Instead, she told me, “I’m busy with work. Can you stop bothering me?”
Later, I saw pictures on Cyril’s friends' social media. He and Serena had gone skiing in the mountains that day.
Not only that. When I was writhing in pain from a stomach ulcer and asked her to accompany me to the hospital, she brushed me off impatiently. “I’m not a doctor. If it hurts, go to the hospital. Why are you telling me?”
But not long after, I saw her at the hospital—standing beside Cyril, who had come in for nothing more than a cold.
Then there was also a time I planned a surprise for our anniversary. But on my way back, I got into a car accident.
The doctors called her, urgently asking her to come to the hospital to sign for my surgery.
Her response? “Is he dead? If not, don’t bother me.”
I heard Cyril’s excited voice in the background as she spoke. “Serena, look! The Northern Lights are beautiful. This trip was so worth it!”
When the call ended, my body was drenched in blood, staining half the hospital bed.
I could still remember the twisting pain in my chest as I lay there and died. Even now, the mere memory made it hard to breathe.
Clutching my aching heart, I let out a pale, bitter laugh.
Serena, if my love is such a burden to you, then I’ll never love you again.
That night, Stephanie and I didn’t linger. We went home early.
The next morning, I woke up groggily and reached for my phone to check the time.
But the first thing I saw was a message from Cyril.
He’d sent me a photo of Serena sleeping at his place accompanied with a message.
[Cyril: Serena stayed over at my house last night to keep me company.]
I stared at it without a hint of emotion and then replied with a simple response.
[Me: Oh.]
I didn’t give him much attention, but he wasn’t done.
Soon after, he sent me another photo—this time, it was of breakfast.
[Cyril: Serena made me breakfast this morning. She even cooked heart-shaped eggs just for me.]
Serena had never stepped foot in the kitchen when we were together.