Compared to the complexity of ending things with Hao Yi, breaking things off with Chu Ke Huan seemed almost absurdly simple—it could be done with a single message:
“I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided to marry Hao Yi after all. I wish you happiness.”
Just a few short words resting in the text box. One tap of the send button, and it would all be over. No need for a meeting, no need to settle financial matters or return belongings. Not even a phone call was necessary. To end something that never truly began wasn’t even a “breakup.” It was a “turning away”—such an elegant phrase.
But if it never truly began, how could I even be certain it deserved to be called a relationship?
I had spent so much effort resisting, struggling, accepting, and finally taking this relationship seriously. Along the way, emotions had undeniably developed. I had once avoided breaking up with Hao Yi; now, as the focus shifted to Chu Ke Huan, I couldn’t allow myself to treat it carelessly.
“Are you free to meet tonight?” The elegant phrase I had planned was rewritten into something clumsier before I finally pressed send.
“I haven’t sorted things out yet,” he replied.
“It’s fine. I just got back from the south and feel a little stifled. I want to see you,” I lied.
Chu Ke Huan fell silent.
I wasn’t sure if he had guessed some of what was going on, but he didn’t ask a single question. A few hours later, he sent me the name of an upscale hotel. I knew he had realized I was bringing bad news, and his understanding left me feeling both disappointed and relieved.
Before meeting him, I bought a new dress, new lingerie, and new shoes. I thought perhaps disguising myself as someone even I didn’t recognize would help me do something I normally couldn’t—break his heart.
At nine in the evening, I stepped into the grand hotel lobby and received a message from him with the room number. The plush carpeting muffled every sound, leaving the enormous hallway in complete silence. As I traversed the winding path to the room at the very end, dizziness overcame me, and I could barely stand upright.
This is the right thing to do, isn’t it? I asked myself. Step through that door, offer myself to Chu Ke Huan like a gift, and put an end to our desires once and for all. Afterward, leave that door behind and forget tonight ever happened. Then, live happily ever after with Hao Yi.
I hadn’t yet found an answer when the door opened. Standing before me, already in a bathrobe, was Chu Ke Huan.
“I don’t want to give you too much time to think,” he said, noticing my unfamiliar attire as his gaze swept over me from head to toe. “Come in.”
“Why shouldn’t I think?” I avoided his piercing eyes and lowered my gaze, only to be confronted by the sight of his chest partially revealed through the gap in his robe as he held the door open. I gasped softly, forcing myself to calm down as I fixed my eyes on the floor and slipped off my heels.
He slid the bolt across the door and, in his usual casual tone, delivered a line that was undoubtedly calculated:
“The more you hesitate, the crueler you’ll be to me.”
My chest burned with a sharp heat—I realized he had been watching me through the peephole for quite some time. Afraid to meet his gaze, I quickly stepped into the room, but he caught me from behind before I could get far.
“I missed you,” he murmured into my ear.
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