3.
The scent of antiseptic hung in the air.
The hospital was quiet in the dead of night.
Sean Valerius was staring down, meticulously peeling an apple.
The thick apple peel broke in his hands. He looked up at me, his expression aggrieved, and continued his earlier explanation.
"Babe, I was really late because I had to work overtime."
Yesterday, I had dinner with Sean and had an allergic reaction to peanuts.
Sean brought me to the hospital. The allergy wasn't severe, but something else was wrong, and it required treatment, so I chose to be admitted.
He said he would take time off work to take care of me at the hospital.
But by nine-thirty at night, I still hadn't gotten the bowl of hot congee I was waiting for.
The person who had promised to come take care of me still hadn't shown up.
The elderly woman in the next bed asked me compassionately, "Dear girl, why haven't you eaten so late?"
I gave a bitter smile. "I'm still waiting for my boyfriend to bring me something."
She asked if I'd met a heartbreaker, saying that a good man wouldn't break a promise so easily.
I lowered my gaze and replied, "Maybe."
Thirsty and hungry in my hospital bed, I finally gave in and ordered takeout.
When the delivery guy handed me the steaming hot food, I suddenly felt that none of it mattered anymore. Even the congee I'd been dreaming of all day had lost its appeal.
It wasn't until much later that Sean rushed in, panting. "The work is finally done! I'll be with you wholeheartedly from now on."
I looked at his empty hands and smiled faintly. "Sean, you can go. I don't need you anymore."
Then, I called my best friend, Jessica Thorne, and asked her to come to the hospital to take care of me.
Jessica only found out I was sick when she answered my call.
I could tell from the tone of her voice that she was worried about me.
But Sean was even more displeased than I was. He said angrily, "Serena Sterling, can't you stop being so petty? I told you, I went to work."
He didn't get to finish his sentence.
Because I held up my phone in front of him. On the screen was a photo that someone had sent me anonymously an hour ago.
The picture was taken at a karaoke bar. It was a photo of two people.
Eve Shaw, looking gentle and charming in a lavender dress, was leaning her head against Sean's chest.
Both of them looked very happy.
Sean panicked. His face was pale, and he looked utterly defeated. "I didn't know Eve was going to be there. I just dropped in for a bit."
Seeing his frantic expression, I found it utterly ridiculous.
His "working late" was actually a long-awaited reunion with his old flame in a neon-lit karaoke bar, where they poured out their hearts to each other.
And I was just a prop to highlight their great love story.
"That's enough, Sean. I don't want to see you racking your brain for lies to cover for someone else. It makes you seem so pathetic."
"It even makes me doubt myself, wondering if I've loved the wrong person all this time."
The light in Sean's eyes died instantly, and he slumped back into the chair, defeated.
I closed my eyes, unable to look at him any longer.
I still remember the summer of my junior year of college. Six months after Sean and I started dating, I asked him out for hot pot for the first time.
"Sean, a new hot pot place opened up near campus. Let's go try it."
"Okay!"
We ordered each other's favorite dishes, but just as the food went into the pot, he took a call and left.
He said he'd be ten minutes, but I ended up waiting for four agonizing hours.
I stood on the street, looking around aimlessly as couples in love passed by, laughing and bickering.
A boy wrapped his arm around a girl's waist, stealing a kiss with a mischievous grin.
It wasn't until ten o'clock that he sent me a text: "Babe, where are you?"
When he found me, reeking of alcohol, he apologized pitifully, just like today. He claimed he'd run into some friends on the way and got dragged out to eat.
He stroked my face and said, "I don't see that friend often. Running into him was fate. I really couldn't say no."
He said he'd been forced to drink a few wheat beers, dozed off for a bit in a daze, and that's why he was so late.
Back then, he was my entire world.
After hearing his explanation, I resolutely ignored the pain in my own heart and chose to believe him.
The ridiculous part is, back then, I actually felt touched.
'He got drunk, but he still rushed over to find me and apologize without stopping.'
'He loves me. He really has me in his heart.'
"Are you still dizzy? I'll make you some honey water when we get home." I supported him as he shook his head with a smile and whispered in my ear, "You're my remedy for sobering up."
My face flushed red, and the four hours of misery and exhaustion were completely swept away.
But today, I couldn't keep lying to myself and believing him anymore.
I was tired.
