Alice had left early, leaving Leo to silently pick up the pieces of our shattered evening.
By the time he finished, it was well past midnight.
Without a word to me, Leo went upstairs on his own.
I knew he was angry.
I lay on the sofa, covering my eyes with my hand, but the tears still slipped out, no matter how hard I tried to stop them.
I didn’t know what to do anymore.
Alice and I worked at the same company. We’d become friends after being assigned to the same project.
I had invited her over, introduced her to Leo.
But when had she and Leo grown so close?
I couldn’t figure it out—and didn’t want to dwell on it any longer.
Suddenly, a warm hand gently brushed my cheek.
"Why are you crying?"
It was Leo.
I turned my head away, not wanting to talk to him.
But he cupped my chin and forced me to face him.
"You ruined what should’ve been a nice anniversary—and I’m not even crying. So why are you?"
He finished speaking and handed me a gift box.
Inside was a Vivienne Westwood Saturn necklace.
"It’s not anything extravagant, but back in college, you’d always stop and look at it when we passed by the store. I saw it again a few days ago and thought I’d finally get it for you. As for Alice’s ring, it was just... incidental. Didn’t you always want me to get along with your friends?"
Leo leaned down, fastened the necklace around my neck, and then pulled me into his arms, speaking in a low, soothing voice.
His warm hand gently patted my back, over and over, easing the ache in my chest, piece by piece.
"I’m sorry," I mumbled, burying my face in his embrace—just like I always did after our arguments.
But the unease in my heart still lingered.
"I don’t want you getting so close to Alice."
Leo paused. Then he kissed the top of my head and whispered, “Alright. Whatever you say.”
After that night, Leo and I fell back into our usual routine. The days passed, one after the other.
I thought we had turned the page.
Until the night of the Westland University Law School alumni gathering.
It was well past midnight, and I still hadn’t heard a word from Leo.
Worried, I drove to the hotel where the event was being held.
The ballroom was huge, packed with famous alumni from the law school—some of whom I’d seen on the news.
I wove through the crowd, scanning the room, but there was no sign of Leo.
Had he gone home already? Had we just missed each other on the road?
With that thought, I stepped out into the hotel’s back garden and pulled out my phone to call him again.
That’s when I saw them—two familiar figures standing by the fountain.
Leo and Alice.
Leo was still in his tailored suit. Alice was wearing a red dress with a slit so high it nearly reached her navel.
She had always been tall and striking. Standing next to Leo, they looked like the perfect couple. If I weren’t his girlfriend, I might’ve thought the same.
There weren’t many people in the garden, so their voices carried clearly.
"Leo, are you still mad at me for disappearing back then? It wasn’t my choice—my dad forced me to go abroad. I never wanted to leave."
"I was miserable overseas. I thought about you all the time. I kept hoping you'd come find me or wondering when I’d get to come home and see you."
"But when I finally convinced my dad to let me come back for college… you already had a girlfriend?"
"I know you were just trying to get back at me. But now I’m here. I’ve been suffering these past few years. Leo, please—come back to me. I’m begging you. I haven’t had a single good night’s sleep. I can’t live without you."
As she spoke, Alice extended her wrist toward Leo. Faint red marks lined the inside of her arm, pale and delicate like lotus roots.
When Alice first joined the company, she wore cheap clothes and sometimes had to split meals with others. I thought her family was struggling, so I went out of my way to help her at work.
I had also noticed those marks on her wrist.
I was the one who took her to a therapist, got her medication.
She never told me what caused them—and I never asked.
But now, I knew.
The root of it all was my own boyfriend.
And I couldn’t think of anything more bitterly ironic.
