After eight years of dating, my boyfriend finally proposed to me.
In order to meet my future in-laws, I prepared tens of thousands of dollars worth of liquor and bought all kinds of gifts.
But I was suddenly blocked the night before departure.
I thought he just pressed the wrong button accidentally, but unexpectedly I saw him in the post of my boyfriend's sweetheart, Monica Whitney.
He held the gifts I bought and handed them to Monica's parents with a smile.
Monica wrote, [My childhood sweetheart has prepared a gift and is here. Should I accept it?]
I questioned him angrily, but my boyfriend accused me of not being magnanimous enough, “Monica's parents are pressuring her about marriage; I'm just helping her manage their expectations. Don’t stir things up, just wait for me to come back.”
The prepared engagement ring was worn on Monica's hand and the two held hands with their fingers interlocked, looking very affectionate.
I sneered and commented directly under the post, [I wish you a happy marriage and a son soon.]
Less than two minutes after I made the comment, my boyfriend, Marcell Kendrick, called me angrily.
As soon as the call was connected, he started to accuse me, “What do you mean by those vague comments? How am I supposed to live my life if a mutual friend sees you?
“I just helped her with a small favor. Why are you being so uptight? Are you seriously this petty?”
I laughed, a sharp edge to my tone. “Oh, I already wished you a happy marriage and you still call me petty? So, what’s next? Do you need me to stand guard at the door before you head into the bridal chamber?”
Marcell furiously asked, “What nonsense are you talking about? I have explained it to you clearly, but you are still so stubborn. Do you really want to break up?”
Listening to his angry words without a trace of warmth, I felt like my eight years of affection had been wasted.
I had always considered him as my future husband.
I fully support him in whatever he did, whether it was starting a business or something else. I wished I could use myself as a raft to help him reach greater heights.
But Marcell took all that for granted. Whenever something went wrong, he would make a fuss and break up with me.
Ever since his childhood sweetheart Monica returned from studying abroad half a year ago, Marcell lost his temper so often that it was outrageous.
But I endured it all because I understand that unrequited love would lead to resentment.
I also felt that even if he had another woman in his heart, he loved me more, because he had been dating me for so many years.
So, I was more tolerant and accommodating towards him.
But I gave him too much freedom. He even ignored the date we had agreed on and took the things I bought.
As Monica's boyfriend, he visited her parents.
You know, I tried to coax him to visit my parents in my hometown many times, but he always refused.
The contrast between the two made my heart grow colder and the words that had been suppressed in my heart for a long time came out directly, “Let's break up.”
The man opposite was stunned for a moment, then his tone became louder, “What do you mean by wanting to break up? You were the one who chased me all the time and now you're breaking up for no apparent reason.
“Do you think you're some kind of beautiful lady? Do you think any man would want you if you left me?
“Don't think you can get me to go back by playing hard to get. Anyway, I have to stay at Monica's house and play with them for a few days. If you keep talking nonsense, don't blame me for really breaking up with you!”
He hung up the phone without taking my words to heart.
I clenched my fists into tight fists and scanned the empty rental house.
Chapter 2
I found that the room was full of things that Marcell liked and there were also books and flowers that Monica liked.
As for my belongings, there was only a toothbrush and a towel on the sink and a few clothes in the corner of the closet.
Everything that had been shrouded in fog for a long time suddenly became clear.
It suddenly woke me up.
In fact, I did not integrate into Marcell's life at all and he did not regard me as his lifelong girlfriend.
Maybe in his heart, I would always be the second best.
It was indeed me who took the initiative to pursue Marcell at the beginning, but I did not think normal pursuit was shameless.
If he did not want to, he could just refuse directly.
Suddenly a message came to my phone. When I opened it, it turned out to be from Monica.
[Monica: I'm sorry, he was just trying to help me, you're not really angry, are you? We are all women, we all know the pain of being urged to get married, don't be so petty.]
Then came a photo of the two holding hands, with the sparkling couple rings dazzling.
I suddenly realized that the women's ring that I had worn on my hand for several years was no longer suitable. Since it actually fitted perfectly on Monica's hand.
It fitted so perfectly that it seemed like it was custom-made for her.
Usually, I would have caused him to burst into rage. But at that moment, I was so calm at that moment that it did not cause any ripples.
I packed my things into the box with an expressionless face and turned to leave the place where I had lived for many years.
After loving for so many years, it was time to let go.
I rented a new house and slept soundly for two days.
I did not go to the company and did not go out.
Only when I felt it was almost done did I get up and print the equity division book.
Marcell had a company under his name, which he and I founded together.
Although we said we were together, I was actually responsible for most of it.
But at that time, I regarded him as my future husband, so I only held a small portion of the shares.
However, since we had been breaking up, the equity and financial details should naturally be clearly divided. Not to mention that 80% of it was the least I deserve for my hard work.
As I mulled over everything, a sudden loud banging jolted me out of my thoughts, followed by furious kicks rattling the door. I did not need to see him to know who it was.
“Carla!” Marcell's voice bellowed from the other side. “You had the guts to move out, to ignore work, but why can’t you face me?”
I yanked the door open just as he prepared to kick again.
With a stumble, Marcell lost his balance and pitched forward.
I sidestepped smoothly, letting him crash to the floor with a satisfying thud.
He looked up at me, eyes wide in disbelief, as he asked, “You are hiding from me?”
I looked at him coldly and said flatly, “We have broken up, why are you still looking for me?”
Marcell held out his red wrist to me with a grievance, “I'm already injured, are you still going to make trouble with me?”
As he said that, he wanted to hold my hand and act coquettishly as he did in the past.
He knew that I was most susceptible to his submissive attitude like a puppy and wanted me to apologize on my own initiative.
But I just put my hands behind my back.
Marcell's face froze and he looked at me with a look of reproach as he yelled, “I already told her that I was only going to accompany her back to deal with her parents, but you insisted on making a scene and not going to the company.
“There is a big customer who wants to discuss cooperation, I wasn't in the company and you weren't either, so the company directly picked me up! Do you know how much money I lost?”
I sneered. So, it was the reason why he came to me. It turned out that there was a problem in the company.
But based on his tone, as if he was saying, it was all my fault that he lost the cooperation that time.
Chapter 3
I took out the equity division document that I had written long ago and explained, “You, the chairman, are not there and you still want me, an employee, to be there?
“What's more, we are going to break up soon, so we should divide the equity and do business impartially from now on.”
Marcell stared at me, trying to find evidence that I was joking.
But I remained expressionless, with no room for maneuver.
At last, the realization dawned on him, if I was serious about ending things.
Panic flickered across Marcell's face as he stammered, “Why would you break up with me out of nowhere? Didn’t you say you wanted to meet my parents? They’re waiting to have dinner with us tonight.
“They have known about us all along and they have always wanted to meet you,” he pressed, his voice rising in desperation. “Can’t you at least give them this courtesy?”
I looked at him, my tone ice-cold. “We have been together for eight years and you never introduced me to them. Now, at the end of it all, you want me to play along? Do you really not see how absurd that is?”
His expression hardened and anger flashing in his eyes as he gritted out, “Fine. You had better keep up this tough act. Don’t come crawling back to me.”
I kept my composure, calmly closing the door in his face, shutting him out for good.
That was the first time that Marcell was turned away by me.
He raised his hand in frustration, as though he was ready to break the door down, but his phone rang just in time. Without a second thought, he turned and left, abandoning his attempt to reach me.
From the second-floor window, I watched him walk away. A pang of regret stirred in my chest.
If he had just held on a little longer, maybe I would have softened. But, as always, he left, slipping away when I needed him most.
I stared at my phone, where Monica’s latest post glared back at me
[I called my childhood sweetheart over with just one call. It feels so good to be cared for by a busy person.]
The screenshot showed Marcell’s reply too.
[Marcell: I will be there soon.]
Her note was simple, yet pointed, ‘Honey.’
Almost immediately, mutual friends began messaging, asking if everything was all right. I gave the same answer to each.
[Carla: We’ve broken up. I wish them a happy marriage.]
What I did not expect was that even though I was planning to break up quietly, some people still would not let me go.
The hospital called and said that my father’s medical expenses for that month had not been paid and it had been delayed for several days.
So, I checked my bank card and found that the month's salary had not been credited.
I angrily called the company's finance department, but there was no answer.
I have worked like a slave for Marcell for so many years and my salary was lower than that of most leaders.
That day was supposed to be payday, but it had not arrived yet.
Everyone in the company knew about Marcell and me. They also knew the company’s current success was built on my relentless work and dedication.
So, when I noticed my salary had been lower, the motive was obvious. It was Marcell’s doing, no doubt.
With that realization, I dialed Marcell immediately, but the call went unanswered.
As frustration boiled over, I drove straight to the company, determined to confront him, only to be stopped at the entrance by security.
Monica was wearing a high-end dress and had a general manager's ID card hanging around her neck.
When she saw me, she was very surprised, “Haven't you been fired? Why are you still coming to the company?”
I suppressed my anger and asked, “When was I fired? How come I did not know?”
Monica spread her hands and smiled, “Didn't you want to break up with Marcell yesterday? This company is his. If he wants to fire you, does he have to ask you for permission?”
I clenched my fists and wanted to slap her.
But my father was still in the ICU of the hospital and I had to pay the medical bills on time every month.
So, I gritted my teeth and looked at her, “Let me into the company. Even if I have to leave, Marcell has to fire me personally. I also demand that all my wages and compensation be paid immediately!”
Before Monica opened her mouth, a man's sneer reached her ears.
Marcell sneered, "If you want to get back together, that's fine. I knew you could not bear to leave me. If you had just let me in yesterday, we would not be here. But now the company lost a key client because of your actions and I had no choice but to fire you.
“If you apologize, I will reconsider. But don’t expect to return as general manager, that position is now Monica’s. You will report to her as her assistant.”
I laughed, clapping slowly, every sound echoing in the room, “Marcell, you truly outdid yourself. Not only did you cheat, but now you want me to be the assistant to your mistress? Are you out of your mind?”
The word ‘cheat’ caught the attention of everyone nearby and Marcell’s cheeks turned red.
“What nonsense! There’s no cheating, no mistress. Monica and I have never crossed a line, so stop making things up!” he yelled in frustration.
I pointed at the matching rings on their fingers, my voice unwavering.
“You say you didn’t cheat, but aren’t those couple rings? Cheating isn’t just physical; emotional betrayal counts too,” I sneered.