"She's still technically my girlfriend. If this gets out, I'm the one who looks bad. So let's drop it."

Not defense. Just damage control for his own reputation.

"Wait, you're seriously still going to marry her after all that?"

Camille pressed closer to him, tugging at his arm with a pout.

"What about me? I'm not going to be some mistress."

"If you don't give me an answer soon, we're done."

"That's not going to happen!"

Kevin's composure cracked. Panic flashed across his face.

My fingers curled into fists.

He had never once lost his cool like that for me. Not once.

"Why should I be the one stuck cleaning up someone else's mess?" His voice turned cold, dripping with contempt. "If my parents weren't always nagging me to 'take care of her,' I would've ended it ages ago."

As he spoke, his expression shifted—disgust settling over his features like a mask he'd finally stopped hiding.

I couldn't move. My arms dropped to my sides.

So this is how he really feels about me.

Then why didn't he just say so?

All those years together—the gentleness, the patience—was any of it real?

"After the holiday, I'll go home and set things straight."

Kevin turned and pressed a kiss to Camille's cheek, his voice soft and sweet.

"Then I'll introduce you to my parents."

The room erupted in cheers. Everyone raised their glasses.

"Congratulations in advance to Kevin and the future Mrs. James!"

Inside, the celebration roared on—laughter, clinking glasses, warmth.

I felt like I'd been plunged into ice water.

I don't know how long I stood there before the world came back into focus. My vision had blurred. Tears, I realized.

My fingers were numb from the cold. I typed out the words, one character at a time.

[Let's break up.]

Inside the room, a WeChat notification chimed.

Kevin picked up his phone, glanced at the screen, and tapped out a voice message.

"Mom, Dad—I've got an overseas project I need to handle. I really can't make it back today."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll let you know as soon as I've locked in a return date."

He set down the phone. That was it. No other response.

I waited.

And then it hit me.

I wasn't just missing from his pinned contacts—he'd muted me entirely.

A thousand miles apart, and he'd routinely take a full day to reply to my messages. I'd told myself he was busy with work. I'd made excuses for him.

Turns out, he simply couldn't be bothered.

Tears splashed onto my screen, one drop at a time.

Desperate, I called him.