Chapter 1
I was gathering all my winter clothes and neatly folding them into my suitcase.
Suddenly, the front door opened and someone crept in quietly.
Cold fingers covered my eyes from behind.
“Guess who?” she said playfully, lowering her voice like she always did when returning from business trips to surprise me.
In the past, I would have laughed and said “Of course it’s my darling” before warming her hands in mine.
But now, I no longer felt that sweet affection. I wasn’t in the mood to play along.
I simply removed her hands and continued packing without a word.
My girlfriend Olivia looked at me in bewilderment. She clenched her fingers, then said in a coy voice:
“What’s wrong, handsome? Isn’t a month of the cold shoulder enough? When you suddenly burst into the wedding, it was so awkward for everyone. I had to explain for ages.”
I couldn’t help but smirk sardonically.
A month ago, I had become the laughingstock of all our friends and family.
Because my bride had publicly married someone else.
My mother had a heart attack as a result, while Olivia had me thrown out of the venue like a beggar.
Even on the day of my mother’s funeral, the villagers were still pointing and whispering mockingly:
“That’s him - the one whose wife ran off on their wedding day. And he’s supposed to be so smart! Thirty years old and still can’t find a wife!”
“How embarrassing. I heard he angered his mother to death. If I had such a useless son, I’d bash my head against a wall!”
The damp, suffocating feeling from my mother’s burial enveloped me again.
Coming back to my senses, I spoke flatly:
“It’s not the cold shoulder…”
I was about to say “Let’s break up” but before I could get the words out, Olivia nodded and drawled:
“Oh, I see. You’re not giving me the cold shoulder, you’re picking a fight, right? Come on, didn’t I text you? Ethan’s fiancée ran off, and our families are old friends. Helping out won’t kill me.”
She plopped down on the sofa and picked up a grey sweater, folding it as she frowned slightly. Her red lips pouted as she muttered:
“This sweater is so ugly. You should just throw it away!”
I said nothing, just staring blankly at the sparkling diamond on her ring finger. Only then did I realize what that extra cold sensation on my eyelids had been earlier.
Olivia followed my gaze and quickly removed the ring, shoving it in her pocket.
She stuck out her tongue with a guilty smile. “We had to make it look convincing for the act. I forgot to take it off. You jealous little thing, don’t tell me you’re upset again?”
The truth was, I didn’t feel upset at all.
I suddenly remembered.
When I had proposed to her, getting down on one knee with a custom diamond ring, she hadn’t held out her hand.
She said she didn’t like the constricting feeling of rings and would rather wait to exchange rings at the wedding.
But in the end, she had eagerly worn Ethan’s ring first, even reluctant to take it off.
Jealous?
I would never feel jealous again. This past month, I had masochistically followed the news of Olivia and Ethan’s honeymoon travels around the world. My heart no longer stirred at all.
I looked away without responding, just taking back the sweater she was folding. I said flatly:
“This is a wool sweater my mom knitted for me.”
Olivia’s hands were suddenly empty.
She was clearly annoyed but still tried to keep her tone gentle:
“By the way, how is your mother doing? After a month of rest, she must be much better now, right?”
Her eyes curved into a smile as she continued:
“I always thought our wedding venue was too small and shabby anyway. Let’s take this chance to set a new date and have a grand wedding. That would make your mother happy!”
I knew Olivia was in a good enough mood today to have given me plenty of chances to make up.
If I didn’t take them now, she would surely lose her temper.
But she had forgotten.
On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, she showed up at the courthouse saying she forgot her ID, then immediately left to help Ethan try on wedding outfits since his fiancée was absent.
We never actually got married, so there was no need for any wedding.
Coming back to my senses, I could only smile bitterly:
“There’s no need.”
After being coldly rebuffed multiple times, Olivia’s face suddenly darkened.
She was about to speak when her phone rang.
Seeing “Ethan” on the screen, her expression softened and she answered sweetly:
“I just got home. Why are you calling?”
I don’t know what was said on the other end, but she wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder as she picked up a camel-colored wool coat from the rack, laughing:
“Ethan, you’re terrible! I’m in the middle of smoothing things over with my boyfriend! This is the last time, okay?”
I watched as she expertly slipped the ring back on, checked her makeup and clothes in the full-length mirror, then grabbed her purse to leave.
With her hand on the doorknob, she seemed to suddenly remember my existence.
She quickly turned back, stood on tiptoe to ruffle my hair, and said in a sticky-sweet voice:
“Alright Jack, don’t be mad anymore. I bought you a little gift. I’ll bring it over tonight.”
I watched her leave, then went to stand by the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Through the glass, I saw a bright yellow sports car parked below, its chassis so low it seemed to hug the ground.
Ethan was leaning against the car door, a glowing cigarette between his fingers.
Olivia, who was usually a germaphobe, expertly took the cigarette from Ethan’s hand and got into the passenger seat with the cigarette between her lips.
I stopped watching and closed the curtains.
Turning around, I picked up the overseas assignment application form I had already filled out, sitting on my desk.