Amanda's words twisted a knife in my chest. She had so thoroughly misunderstood my intentions.
“Following you? Amanda, is that how little you think of me?” My voice trembled, a mix of anger and exhaustion.
The cold air and my rising fury sent me into a fit of violent coughing, my vision blurring as my eyes reddened.
Amanda frowned slightly, a flicker of disbelief crossing her face. “Are you really sick? Why didn’t you make it clear?”
Jayden chimed in from the side, “Amanda, maybe it really is a misunderstanding. He doesn’t look well at all.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “What difference does it make now? To you, even if I were on my deathbed, it wouldn’t matter as much as his headache.”
For a moment, she looked at a loss for words. Guilt flashed in her eyes, but she quickly masked it.
“What’s your condition now? You're coughing so badly—is it contagious?” she asked coldly. “Jayden isn’t in great health. Don’t get too close to him.”
She continued, her tone distant, “Just rest up. Don’t come looking for me again until you’re fully recovered. I’ll cover your medical bills.”
With that, she turned to leave.
I watched her retreating figure, emotions churning in my chest. The promises we had once made echoed faintly in my mind, but now, they felt like cruel mockery.
“Amanda,” I called out loudly, “if you leave now, we’re finished for good.”
Her steps faltered for a brief moment, but she didn’t turn back. She walked away with Jayden, vanishing from my sight.
I slid down the wall, tears blurring my vision once again. This time, I promised myself I wouldn’t look back.
I stayed in the hospital for another two weeks. Amanda didn’t call once.
Instead, I saw her new post on her social media feed: photos of her skiing trip with Jayden. Out of nine pictures, eight were of the two of them together.
I couldn’t help but remember how she once told me she didn’t like taking pictures. Even when I tried to capture her beauty, she would wave me off. Photos of us together were rare.
I gave a self-deprecating laugh and, despite my resolve to move on, felt the familiar ache in my chest.
I tapped the “like” button on her post, the caption of which read: [Forever together.]
Within five minutes, my phone rang. It was Amanda.
“Yvo, what’s your problem?” she snapped. “So what if I went skiing with Jayden? Are you jealous just because you’re not here to join me?
“Besides, it was just skiing. Nothing else happened.”
Her indignant tone made me laugh out loud.
“Amanda, do you even hear yourself? You’re telling me that while I’ve been lying in a hospital bed, you’ve been gallivanting around with your first love just to relive your memories?”
“Forget it,” I said, cutting her off. “Don’t say another word.”
I hung up the phone, determined not to care about her anymore.
I forced myself to forget—forget her, forget Jayden, forget everything I had seen. But the harder I tried, the more vivid the memories became.
I had known Jayden was her first love, but I hadn’t realized how deeply rooted he was in her heart. Eight years of us couldn’t even compete with him.
My phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Amanda.
[If it weren’t for the fact that you treated me decently before, do you think I would’ve given you a chance?]
[In terms of looks and background, how do you compare to Jayden? Agreeing to marry you was already a favor. Now you’re being jealous? That's utterly ridiculous.]
I stared at the words that should’ve torn me apart. Strangely, I didn’t feel as hurt as I expected.
Calmly, I typed a reply. [Amanda, if you had to choose all over again, who would it be?]
