Looking at the anger on his face, my eyes stung with tears.
"I'm embarrassing?"
"One of you is my boyfriend, the other is my best friend—and you two have been flaunting your little 'bond' in front of everyone behind my back. How is that not embarrassing?"
A vein pulsed at Jeffrey's temple. "So you just believe whatever people say? You can't think for yourself? I've been tolerating your antics because I thought you'd eventually see reason. Clearly, I was wrong—you're still completely impossible!"
Laura's voice came through the phone, thick with tears.
"Jill, I had no idea you thought of me that way. Maybe you don't realize it, but that's just how we talk to each other—it's all jokes."
"I know our dynamic bothers you, but Jeffrey isn't just your boyfriend. He's my friend too. I can't cut him off just because of you. I hope you can understand that."
"If you're really that upset, I can post something to clarify that there's nothing between us."
Jeffrey looked up at me.
"Jill, if you insist on making a scene, then let's just break up."
That was the first time Jeffrey ever mentioned breaking up.
And the last.
That same night, I booked a flight, turned off my phone, and vanished for an entire month.
Until one morning, through the mountain mist, I saw him—eyes bloodshot, looking like he hadn't slept in days.
He'd come for me. But he didn't say a word.
He just pitched a tent beside my rented cabin and stayed.
Before dawn, he'd already split firewood and fetched water.
When I went out to sketch, he followed at a distance, silent.
…
None of it seemed like the proud man I knew.
Eventually, even the other young travelers staying in the village started teasing me, urging me to forgive him.
Forgive him? I wasn't that naive.
But then I saw him—drunk, crying, begging me to take him back.
It was the first time I'd ever seen him cry.
He swore there was nothing between him and Laura beyond friendship, and promised to keep his distance from her.
He apologized over and over, begging me not to leave him.
Rekindling a flame doesn't take long. I forgave him quickly.
And said yes when he proposed.
What I didn't expect was how fiercely my parents would fight it.
They'd already arranged a match for me—someone from a family of equal standing. They refused to let me marry beneath myself.
It ended with my father throwing a severance document at me, threatening to disown me if I didn't call off the wedding.
I cried for a month. Then, out of sheer defiance, I signed it.
We had a small wedding. We couldn't afford much—even my dress was rented.
My parents weren't there. Jeffrey noticed.
That night, he pinned me down and took his time with me, but didn't say a word.
Until the very end, when he bit my ear and whispered, "Jill, stop being foolish for my sake."
I didn't understand then.
Later, I realized what he meant.
He didn't think it was worth it—me turning my back on my family for him.
And he didn't need my devotion that badly.
"Miss, we're here."
The driver's voice pulled me back.
The car had stopped outside the courtyard of a well-known private dining club.
The moment I stepped out, I heard a voice calling from the entrance.
"Is that Jill?"
I composed myself and walked in with a smile. "Mrs. Lambert, I'm sorry I'm late."
Nellie Lambert's hair had gone silver at the temples, but her step was steady—a spirited woman who carried her years well.
"I was just giving Jeffrey a hard time," she said. "Why didn't he bring you along when he drove over?"
