Chapter 4

Three days later, Irene's father, Lawrence Parker, asked me to attend a family dinner.

He said the relatives were all asking about the wedding since it was called off so suddenly, and we had to give them some kind of explanation.

When I arrived at the private room, the place card with my name on it had already been removed.

Zack sat to Irene's right, and Mr. Parker sat to her left. Meanwhile, my chair had been temporarily squeezed next to the serving hatch. Every time a server came in or out, I had to pull my legs in.

Someone poured me a glass of ice water, and Irene reached out to stop them almost without thinking.

"Give him something hot. He has a sensitive stomach."

The moment the words left her mouth, we both froze.

It seemed a five-year habit took longer to fade than her feelings did.

The server brought over a glass of water.

Irene casually placed a piece of paper under the glass and pushed it toward me.

"Read this out loud later."

I looked down. There were only three sentences written on the paper.

"Irene and I already broke up amicably four months ago. But I couldn't accept it and kept pestering her, which is what caused all the misunderstandings. Zack didn't come between us."

Four months ago, we had just decided on the wedding favors and invitations.

Irene thought the sample was too sweet. So, when the shop assistant wasn't looking, she stuffed the remaining half into my mouth and said that from then on, all the sweets at home would be mine.

But now she wanted me to admit in front of all her relatives that we had already broken up back then.

I took out the yellow notebook, and the private room instantly went quiet.

Her expression darkening, Irene warned in a lowered voice, "Gavin, don't make a scene on an occasion like this."

"I'm not making a scene." I looked up. "I just want to confirm—are you seriously advising me to read this out loud?"

Everyone at the table looked over.

Mr. Parker was the first to panic. "Gavin, take my advice—there's nothing you can do once a woman has a change of heart. Bow out gracefully now, and I'll still remember you fondly."

I simply stared at Irene. "Are you advising me to read this out loud?"

Her grip on the glass tightened, little by little.

Zack suddenly put down his fork, his eyes red as he spoke in a low voice.

"Forget it, stop pushing Gavin. If the baby gets called a bastard in the future, I'll leave. Either way, Irene and the baby are the ones who'll end up getting hurt."

That was what finally crushed the last of Irene's hesitation.

She looked up at me and said, "Yes, I'm seriously advising you to read that out loud."

I flipped to the third page and, holding the pen, said, "Please confirm it once more."

Irene closed her eyes and ultimately said, "Confirmed. Gavin, read what's written on the paper out loud."

I stood up and recited the three lines word for word. After I finished, the private room was so quiet one could hear a pin drop.

Soon, one of Irene's uncles by marriage, Donny Roach, stepped in to smooth things over with a smile.

"Young people break up and make up all the time. It's fine as long as you own up to your mistake. Just don't keep pestering Irene. A man needs to take things in stride, lest you come across as petty."

These people had all attended our engagement party and praised us, saying how well-matched we were. It turned out that it only took three sentences to erase our five years together.

Once I finished speaking, Mr. Parker added Zack to the Parker family group chat right in front of me. In less than half a minute, my phone buzzed.

"You have been removed from the group chat."

"Since you and Irene have already split up, it's not appropriate for you to stay in the family group chat," he explained, his tone awkward yet self-righteous.

I nodded and put a check mark on the back of the third page.

As I walked out of the hotel, Irene chased after me.

"Don't take what was said just now to heart."

I stopped walking. "Which parts?"

"The parts where they said you were pestering me and being petty."

"But weren't those the very things you told me to admit?"

Her expression froze. After a long while, she finally answered in a low voice, "It was just a stopgap measure. Gavin, don't take everything so seriously."

I suddenly recalled the time when we were 18 and Irene wrote down those three rules in the cotton field while crying.

"Words said in anger must not be taken to heart."

"Important matters must be confirmed twice."

"Only those who genuinely wish you well have the right to advise you on what to do."

She was the one who taught me all of this, and yet she was blaming me for taking it too seriously now?