Three Years Of Love, One Cruel Punchline

Synopsis

Three years ago, on April Fools' Day, Andrew Lane confessed his love to me. I looked into his charming, flirtatious eyes and said, "I don't joke. You have three years to marry me." His gaze was gentle as he kissed the back of my hand and whispered, "Okay." Today marked exactly three years. Andrew forgot our engagement, but he didn't forget to take me along to help his close female friend, Anna Evans, move. The moment we walked in, Anna naturally pulled a lighter from Andrew's pocket and lit his cigarette for him. She said, "Luna, Andrew told me he doesn't like you anymore. We're together now." Andrew exhaled a smoke ring, chuckled, and casually ruffled her hair, his voice indulgent and lazy. "Luna, let's be civil about this. No need to make a scene. Let's part ways on good terms," Andrew said. My eyes burned with tears. So this was how our three years together ended. Anna and Andrew burst out laughing. "Luna, you totally fell for it. This was a joke Andrew and I cooked up," Anna said. She shot me a look, half-smiling, half-mocking. "Luna, you're always so sensible. Seriously, can't you even handle an April Fool's prank?" Andrew still didn't say a word. But Andrew, I told you, I never joke.