Chapter 4

When I walked back into the marital apartment Jason and I shared, the air was still thick with the scent of celebration.

Beautiful wedding decorations covered the walls, shiny new furniture filled the rooms, and every curtain and decoration was something I'd picked out myself.

This place used to be the symbol of my happiness.

But now, everything just seemed to mock me.

I tossed the ripped wedding dress onto the couch and started packing up my things.

I didn't have much, just some clothes, a few books, and some skincare stuff.

I stuffed them into my suitcase one by one, my movements numb and mechanical.

I didn't want to cry. I kept telling myself that he and all this mess weren't worth my tears.

But when I pulled a small wooden box out of the nightstand, the tears dropped anyway, no matter how hard I tried to hold them back.

Inside were all the movie ticket stubs Jason and I had kept over the past three years.

From our very first movie together to that artsy film last week, in which he dozed off halfway through.

On the back of each stub, I'd carefully written the date and the movie title.

I used to think these stubs were proof of our love.

But now, it just felt like I'd been putting on a one-person show all along.

I opened the box and let all the ticket stubs spill out onto the bed.

Then I picked up my phone and sent Jason a message. [I'll move my stuff out soon. You can keep the apartment.]

Less than a minute after I sent the message, Jason called.

I stared at his name flashing on the screen, hesitated for a second, and then hit answer.

"Wendy, what the hell are you doing? Are you serious?" Jason's voice was full of anger and confusion.

"Do I sound like I'm joking?" I replied coldly.

He said, "You're really breaking things off over a wedding dress? Wendy, can you just grow up for once?"

Not this again.

I was sick of hearing it.

"Jason, you know as well as I do that our problems were never just about a wedding dress," I said.

He yelled, "I don't know anything! All I know is, I'm supposed to get married tomorrow, but my bride's bailing on me. Do you even care what people will say about me?"

He only ever cared about saving his face.

"Then why don't you just marry your precious 'family', Yvonne? The dress is all ready for her anyway," I shot back, my voice thick with sarcasm.

There was silence on the other end.

After a long pause, Jason finally spoke again, his voice weary and resigned.

He said, "Wendy, I admit I was wrong, alright? I shouldn't have made a wedding dress for Yvonne behind your back. I'm sorry. Just come back, and let's talk things through. Let's not fight anymore."

"There's nothing left to say, Jason," I replied, my heart already numb. "The moment you chose to defend her, we were done."

He said, "I wasn't defending her. I just..."

"You just get used to it," I cut him off. "Always putting her first, always acting like my feelings don't matter. Jason, I can't live like this anymore."

I didn't want to see them in those matching shirts, and he even told me it was just a coincidence.

I didn't want to find him talking to her on the phone late at night, and he always said it was just about work.

I didn't want to keep finding her favorite candy in his jacket pockets.

I couldn't keep pretending anymore.

"Wendy..." Jason called out.

"That's enough," I said. Then I hung up and blocked his number.

At last, it was just me and silence.

I sat on the bed, zoning out for ages as I stared at that pile of movie ticket stubs.

That was when I made a decision.

I grabbed a lighter and set one of the stubs on fire.

The flame shot up, quickly devouring the thin piece of paper.

One by one, I burned them all, watching what I once called "memories" turn to ash in the fire.

The flames flickered across my face, lighting up and fading away.

When I reached the last stub, my hand stopped.

It was a really old one, from our very first movie together. It was a movie about exes.

I remembered that day, after the movie ended, Jason grabbed my hand and looked me in the eye. "Wendy, I'll never let you become my ex."

Looking back now, what a joke that turned out to be.

I tossed the last stub into the fire, watching the flames lick and twist it until all that was left was a little pile of black ash.

Just like our love.

Once I finished packing, I grabbed my suitcase and headed for the door.

As I reached the entrance, I spotted a photo frame sitting on the entrance cabinet.

Inside was our engagement photo.

In the photo, I was smiling brightly, snuggled up in Jason's arms, my eyes full of happiness and hope.

He was looking down at me, his gaze so gentle that it could melt my heart.

I stared at that photo for ages, and then picked it up from the cabinet.

I didn't smash it, and I didn't throw it away.

I just turned it face down and put it back.

Out of sight, out of mind.

With everything done, I opened the door and walked out without looking back.

I didn't feel a single ounce of nostalgia.