Chapter 2

Since I had decided to end things, I needed to cut off every connection between us.

I changed my university application, choosing a different university from Thor.

Then I gathered every gift he had ever given me, packed them neatly into a box, and sent them back.

But soon after, the box was returned by his housekeeper.

So I decided to go in person—to talk things through, one last time.

When I arrived at his house, I saw him in the garden with Lina.

She was holding a small shovel, planting a sapling, while he stood beside her, helping to fill the soil.

From a distance, they looked like a perfect couple. But what hurt most was the way he looked at her. His gaze was soft, filled with tenderness.

I didn't interrupt. I just stood there quietly, watching. Until I noticed the pair of shoes on Lina's feet— the very ones I had given him as a coming-of-age gift.

I had spent five days at a luxury workshop handcrafting those matching shoes myself. They were one of a kind, made only for us. When I'd given them to him, he had cradled them in his arms, smiling with genuine joy.

"They're perfect," he'd said. "Too beautiful to wear. I'll keep them forever as a memory."

But now… he had given them to someone else.

Sensing my gaze, Lina turned to look at me with a bright, unbothered smile.

"Hey, Aisha! You're here! We're planting trees—come join us!"

I shook my head. "No, thank you."

Her eyes flickered, and she walked toward me, lifting her foot to show off the shoes.

"Oh, right—mine got wet earlier, so Thor lent me these. You don't mind, do you?"

I shook my head again.

But what did it matter if I did? Would he even care?

Thor finally noticed me then, his expression darkening when he saw the box in my arms.

"Don't start this breakup nonsense again," he said. "I picked out those gifts carefully for you. If you don't want them anymore, what does that say about me?"

I met his gaze calmly and said, "I'm not making a scene. I'm serious."

His face twisted with anger. "Fine. If you're so set on it, then throw them all away. I don't take back what I've given."

Then he turned his back to me and went on shoveling soil, as if I were nothing more than a passing breeze.

I pressed my lips together, saying nothing. There was no point in continuing this conversation.

My eyes lingered on him for a moment. He was tall and striking, standing nearly six foot three, every inch the guy who drew countless stares wherever he went. He had always carried himself with quiet confidence and taste, effortlessly charming to others.

But back then, his eyes had only ever held me. No matter how many girls tried to flirt or tempt him, he never wavered.

Until Lina.

Now, all it took was her smile to make him forget every promise he'd made me.

It wasn't that Lina was exceptional. It was that after all these years together, he'd grown tired.

Even married couples face the seven-year itch—how could two people who were only dating escape it?

Love, no matter how deep, can't always withstand the slow erosion of time.

When another woman entered his world, I became invisible.

In his mind, nothing was his fault. Everything was mine. He even believed he was the one who had suffered.

But what he never realized was that his constant bias, his indifference, and his neglect had worn me down. I was too tired to keep trying. Too unsure to keep hoping.

The hundredth breakup was the last—because this time, I truly didn't want him anymore.

I straightened my back, forcing steadiness into my voice. "Since we've broken up, it's only right that I return what's yours."

Then I set the box down on the ground.

Just as I turned to leave, he strode forward and kicked it hard.

The box split open, spilling its contents—luxury handbags, jewelry, and the photographs that held every precious memory between us. They scattered across the ground like shattered pieces of the past.

As if that weren't enough, he stepped forward again and crushed one under his shoe.

"I don't need any of this," he said flatly.