Chapter 3

When the deliveryman knocked, I opened the door and accepted the cake from his hands.

I had always been a little spoiled, and I liked romance. I liked the feeling of being cherished and remembered.

Whenever Julian made me angry, he would always make it up to me in the same way. He sent a cake shaped like a fairytale castle.

I had eaten that cake for ten years. To be honest, I had grown tired of it long ago.

But Julian was always so busy, staying up night after night at the lab. I could not bring myself to let him strain himself even more just to make me feel better.

So every time the cake arrived, I would put on a bright smile and pretend to be delighted.

I wanted him to feel at ease. I wanted him to believe that everything between us was still fine.

This time, I did not pretend.

I gave the cake to the neighbor's child and sent Julian a message.

[Ten years is a long time. Even the best cake eventually loses its flavor.]

Julian must have understood the meaning behind my words.

His reply came soon after. [I did not think it through. That was my fault. Tomorrow, I will go to the mall myself and choose a gift for you.]

Julian did not come home that night.

Letting go of a ten-year relationship was never something a single night could accomplish.

I lay awake until the early hours, then finally got up and began sorting through the things in the apartment that belonged to me.

As I placed items into storage boxes one by one, memories rose to the surface, uninvited and relentless.

The year we graduated, Julian had just joined the national research institute. He was so busy it felt as if he were always on the verge of being carried away by his work.

A year later, he returned home late one night and placed a contract in my hands. It was a ten-year appointment letter, along with a transfer record for five million.

"Wenna," he had said, his eyes bright with resolve, "I'll give you a home. I promise."

The boy in my memories had been sincere and fearless. When he loved, he burned with a heat fiercer than the rising sun.

That day, I cried until my eyes were red as we held each other.

Using the money he earned, we bought this apartment together.

We kissed beneath the fading glow of the sunset.

Embarrassed and excited, we wandered through a flat-pack furniture store, picking out sofas and shelves. We talked without end, like two birds chirping happily, never running out of things to say.

We strung fairy lights across the balcony together. The rocking chair by the window carried ten years of whispered conversations.

We sprawled on the living room rug with half a watermelon between us, drinking soda and watching cheesy romance dramas, mocking the storyline even as we kept watching.

He said he would give me a home.

And now, he was forcing me to leave it.

It took me three full days to clear out everything that belonged to me.

While I was packing, both families came by.

I did not have the courage to tell them what Julian had done. Even now, they did not know why we were separating.

My parents respected my decision. Julian's parents, however, kept trying to persuade me to reconsider.

"Wenna," his mother said anxiously, gripping my hand, "the ceremony just didn't go smoothly. We can hold another wedding later. Couples fight sometimes. There's no need to end everything over this."

I said nothing and watched as the movers carried box after box out the door.

Just as Julian's parents were nearly exhausted from trying to convince me, Julian returned unexpectedly.

He was holding Lynn's hand.

The atmosphere in the apartment changed instantly. Everyone looked at the two of them, their expressions complicated and uncertain.

His mother's voice trembled as she spoke. "Julian, did you do something to hurt Wenna?"

His father stared at Lynn, anger flashing in his eyes. "Son, who is this woman?"

Julian did not answer them.

He glanced around the apartment, now more than half empty, then turned his gaze to me.

"Where are you moving to?" he asked.

He remained calm and rational, as if my leaving were nothing more than a logistical issue.

He offered no explanation, made no attempt to stop me, and showed no hesitation in bringing Lynn back here.

I replied evenly, "I'm going back to my real home."

Julian nodded. "Alright. I'll come see you in a few days."

After that, he pulled Lynn closer and introduced her to everyone.

"This is my assistant from the lab," Julian said. "She's just out of the hospital, so I brought her by to look at the apartment and eat something while she's here."

Julian introduced her so openly and confidently that it only made our suspicions look petty.

Lynn smiled sweetly and gently linked her arm with Julian's mother.

"Mrs. Grant, Dr. Grant has really taken good care of me at the institute," she said brightly. "He even said he'd treat me to a meal today to celebrate my discharge."

She tilted her head slightly, feigning shyness. "But I couldn't possibly trouble him to cook. Since you and Mr. Grant are here, why don't you try some of my cooking instead?"

Julian's mother glanced at me, her expression stiff and uneasy. "Wenna, why don't we all sit down and talk this through?"

I was about to refuse.

Before I could say a single word, Lynn spoke again and cut me off effortlessly. Her eyes flashed with a bold, triumphant glint that made my blood boil.

"Wenna, why don't you join us for a meal? What do you think?" Lynn said, her voice laced with challenge.

Before anyone could react, my mother stepped forward and struck Lynn across the face.

The room fell silent, and I stared at my mother in shock.

"Mom, you—" I started, but she cut me off.

Her eyes were red, and her voice trembled with barely contained fury. "You're my daughter. Do you really think I don't know what's been going on?"

"You've been with Julian since you were eighteen, and now you're twenty-eight. Ten whole years of your youth," she continued, sharpness in her words despite the tremor. "For him, you learned to cook, knit sweaters, swallow your pride, and endure everything."

She drew a shaky breath, her eyes never leaving mine. "If it weren't truly unbearable, would you even think to come home?"

"I don't ask much of you," she said, her voice breaking. "But today, Julian brings another woman here to humiliate you, right in front of us. As your mother, I will not tolerate it."