Chapter 1

My fiancé, Ethan, has a terrible memory and needs someone to remind him over and over again.

This was the ninety-ninth time he had forgotten one of our plans.

This time, he had booked the restaurant where we were supposed to celebrate our anniversary for his junior colleague Angela’s achievement celebration instead.

"Why didn’t you remind me again? Whatever, it’s already booked, so we can just celebrate together."

I froze and stared at him in disbelief.

Knowing how forgetful he was, I had sent him ninety-nine messages to remind him.

He hadn’t replied to a single one, and now he was blaming me instead.

As I looked at the unanswered messages on my phone, my heart slowly grew cold.

Ever since Angela joined Ethan’s team a year ago, he had placed her plans above ours every single time.

The handbag I had fallen in love with would end up on Angela’s desk.

I had planned a weekend road trip, but he claimed he had forgotten and went to the movies with her instead.

That made ninety-nine times he had forgotten me.

He had probably forgotten that my application for an overseas assignment had already been approved.

I was leaving the country soon.

If he loved celebrating Angela’s achievements so much, then he could stop wasting my time.

......

When I got home and began packing, a message suddenly popped up on my phone.

It was from Ethan: "Where did you go? Don’t wander off."

That sudden show of concern made my fingers tremble slightly.

But as soon as I opened the chat, his next message appeared:

"Go back to the law firm and check which regulation Angela cited in her compliance report. She can’t find it."

I stared at his message for several seconds.

So he hadn’t suddenly realized that I wasn’t at the dinner table.

He had only noticed I was gone because he wanted to order me around.

I scrolled up through our chat history.

Every single message was about Angela.

"Let Angela use that legal research template of yours. She just started and doesn’t know how to use it."

"Angela said she wants Japanese food. Let’s go together after work today. I already booked a table."

"There’s a clause in Angela’s contract that she isn’t sure about. Take a look for her."

Ethan’s messages to me were always statements.

He had already made up his mind, and it had never occurred to him to ask what I wanted.

The most recent message was from the day it rained, when I had asked whether he could come pick me up.

He had replied, "The company needs me to work late tonight. Take a cab home yourself."

But the next second, Angela posted a photo on her social media.

A tilted umbrella escorted her into the passenger seat.

"Almost got stranded in the rain. Good thing someone came to my rescue."

I knew that car’s interior better than anything.

The little animal charm hanging from the mirror was one I had picked out myself.

I used to think that since Ethan was her supervisor and Angela was a new member of his team, it was normal for him to take extra care of her.

But every time I gave in, Ethan only became more excessive.

This time, I didn’t reply to him.

While organizing files at the law firm, I received another message from Ethan:

"Why haven’t you replied yet? Angela says she’s hungry. We’re not waiting for you. Her stomach is sensitive, and she can’t eat cold food."

"Come over by yourself later."

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.

We would clearly make plans to eat together.

But whenever I was delayed by a court hearing or traffic, all that awaited me was cold leftovers.

Ethan showed nothing but indifference toward my hurt feelings.

"Can you stop being so dramatic? It’s only a little cold. It’s not like you can’t eat it."

He said I was being dramatic.

I still remembered how, when we had just started dating, he had practically prepared my bathwater for me.

But everything changed after he met Angela.

When the power went out in our apartment, I had always been afraid of the dark, so I called him.

All I received was a scolding.

"The lights are out, so fix them. Do you really need to call me over something this minor? Can’t you be a little more independent?"

So I contacted a repairman myself, learned how to handle everything on my own, and slowly trained myself not to rely on him.

But with Angela, he showed an entirely different side.

"You’re a girl. You don’t have to be so tough. If you need anything, I’ll help you."

"As your senior, it’s only right for me to look after you."

I couldn’t understand it.

Why was helping the same person treated so differently?

When I needed help as his girlfriend, I was being dramatic, but when Angela needed it, he considered it his duty.

I swallowed the bitterness in my heart and texted Ethan: "You two go ahead and eat. I still have things to do."

It was a long time before he replied.

"Are you pouting again? Claire, you’re not a child anymore. Stop making a scene."

I had made scenes before.

Last winter, I had a fever of 102 degrees and was shivering all over, so I called him and asked him to bring me medicine.

But he said he was at Angela’s company.

Something had gone wrong with Angela’s project, and he needed to stay with her.

I told him I felt awful too.

After a two-second silence, he said, "You’ve always been healthy. How serious could it be? Just go buy some fever medicine."

That was the first time I felt I couldn’t take it anymore.

He was my boyfriend, yet I could never get priority from him.

I asked him to break up with me.

But before I could say anything else, he blocked me without a word.

He knew I loved him too much and couldn’t live without him.

So he let me cry for two days until I had no tears left.

Only then did he have Angela invite me out to eat.

Pathetically, I chose to reconcile with him.

After that, I never made another scene.

But this time was different.

I wasn’t making a scene.

I was serious.