A few days ago, Christine invited me out to dinner and asked me with a mysterious tone, "Ginny, have you had some good news recently?"

Confused, I listened as she elaborated, "About you and Jack."

"He ordered a diamond necklace worth over a hundred thousand from my store—it's quite extravagant."

"Even I'm envious."

Knowing that her family owns a jewelry store, I trusted her words.

As she spoke, hope began to stir once again in the still waters of my heart.

The more Christine described, the more excited I became.

But on Valentine's Day, my expectations were shattered.

Instead of the specially ordered diamond necklace, I received only a hastily bought bouquet of roses.

The custom-made diamond necklace was on his secretary's neck.

My feelings, built over more than two decades, seemed trivial compared to his bond with a woman he had known for just a year.

Reflecting on this, I scoffed at myself cynically.

After Jack left, I collapsed onto the sofa, utterly spent.

I covered my eyes with my hand, struggling to hold back tears.

At that moment, it felt as if I could hear the sound of my heart breaking.

I had completely given up.

I woke early the next morning and packed my bags to head home.

Once I was ready, I phoned my mom from downstairs. She came out to greet me, her face alight with excitement.

"Ginny, you finally decided to visit your mom!"

"Come on, I made your favorite soup."

I nodded and followed my mother into the living room.

Dad was at the dining table, already enjoying his soup. I pulled out a chair and sat opposite him.

We ate in silence for a while. When we finished, I gathered my courage to broach the subject.

"Mom, Dad, there's something I need to talk about."

Their expressions brightened instantly, but I briefly looked away before meeting their eyes again.

"I'm thinking about calling off the engagement."

They exclaimed in unison, "What?!"

The sound of Dad's spoon hitting the floor echoed sharply through the room.

Mom's concern was immediate. "What happened, did you and Jack have a disagreement?"

"If you're upset, just tell me, and I'll handle it!"

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully, "It's not a quarrel, it's just that... we can't continue."

"He just doesn't care about me, not really."

Dad frowned deeply, the room descending into a tense silence.