Love Story3–Chapter 1
“After seven years of dating, Jacob Smith, who never once sent me flowers, arranged for 9,999 roses and a set of lingerie to be delivered on my birthday. Excited, I posted it on Instagram, only to see his ‘white moonlight comment below, saying, “Some people just pick.
up the trash I don’t want.
then did I learn he had bought her an apartment, right below the one meant for us. This misdirected gift was actually intended for her.
I took the flowers over personally and happened to catch the two of them having a candlelit dinner. Jacob lashed out at me without hesitation. ‘Can’t you stop thinking so dirty? Jasmine and I were just discussing work.”
“Besides, if there really were something between us, do you think you’d be the one marryi
me?”
In the past, I would have insisted on getting to the bottom of it. But this time, I simply tossed the flowers and the wedding ring at him and said calmly, ‘I wish you both happiness.”
The wedding ring rolled to Jacob’s feet. He sneered and crushed it under his foot, trampling my dignity and love all at once.
“If you want to marry me, you’d better stop being so paranoid.”
“Don’t stand in our way. We have important matters to handle. Go home and reflect on
yourself.”
Listening to these familiar accusations, I felt an unexpected calm within me. After walking out of Jasmine Brown’s apartment, I posted news of Jacob’s affair in the family groupchat, announcing my intention to break off the engagement. For the first time, Jacob, who usually never replied to my messages, immediately sent a photo of his computer in the chat.
“Just handling work with a female subordinate,” he wrote, smoothly lying and shifting the blame onto
- me.
“Ivy Davis, there’s no need to throw a fit just because I refused to buy you that 8–million–dollar wedding dress.”
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Love Story Chapter 1
“And I’ve never even held it against you for using my card to go drinking with your male
friends at bars.”
The quiet group chat instantly erupted. My mother was the first to jump in, berating me. She called me all sorts of cruel names, saying I was unworthy of Jacob and demanded I apologize to him. She even threatened to die if I missed out on such a good marriage. Seeing this all–too–expected outcome, I sighed softly and left the group chat.
After my parents divorced.
my mother became irritable and harsh. Growing up in such a ifling environment. I was drawn to Jacob’s gentle and courteous demeanor. But in these
seven years together, I came to realize he wasn’t what he seemed. His gentleness and patience were reserved for Jasmine, and his polite manner for strangers. With me, he had
nothing but cold indifference and endless harsh words. He was an expert at provoking me
into anger in front of others, watching me break down in tears and question him in at trembling voice. Then he’d put on an understanding act, pretending to be magnanimous in forgiving me, making everyone believe I was an unreasonable, hysterical woman.
But this time, his plan failed. Only those who can’t let go make a fuss. A heart that’s already
withered won’t stir again because of him.
When Jacob came back with a wilted bouquet of roses, I was lounging on the sofa, casually
scrolling on my phone.
“Why didn’t you make dinner?”
“Still mad? Let’s end it already.”
“Haven’t you always wanted me to buy you flowers? Well, here you go. Don’t sulk.”
He tossed the wet roses in front of me. I used to envy the girls on the street, holding fresh flowers with happiness written all over their faces. I’d mentioned it to Jacob many times,
but he always responded impatiently.
“If I’d known you were this vain, I wouldn’t have gotten together with you!
“It’s not that I can’t afford it, but Ivy, does a housewife like you, who accomplishes nothing and only does laundry and cooking at home, even deserve it?”
He accused me of being lazy and shallow, forgetting it was he who had coaxed me to quit my job, luring me with promises of marriage. In Jacob’s eyes, I was only good enough to
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Love Story Chapter
play his maid. He was too stingy to give me even a single rose yet could generously gift Jasmine an apartment and a sea of flowers.
Just now, I even saw jasmine’s latest post on Instagram. They were enjoying a petal bath together, laughing in the tub with roses. After making a mess of those 9,999 roses, he picked out a few barely intact ones to bring to me.
I nudged the bouquet aside with my foot, looked up at Jacob, and spoke calmly.
Adon’t like secondhand goods.”
“And I like secondhand men even less.”
The Lait Tim
