Chapter 3

Simon and I were alumni of the same university.

He was a few years my junior. We met while volunteering at a school anniversary event.

Back then, he stood under the sun in a simple white shirt, handing out flyers. When he smiled, his eyes lit up—clean, bright, and earnest. He was hardworking, too.

After that, we kept running into each other at different campus activities. Little by little, we grew familiar.

He pursued me with genuine effort—good morning and good night messages, breakfast deliveries, snacks after class.

If I casually mentioned a play I wanted to see, he would line up all night just to buy tickets.

Still, I hesitated. It wasn't only the age gap, but also the difference in our families and upbringing. My family was in business. His parents were ordinary salaried workers. Our values, habits, and social circles were separated by an invisible distance.

So we dated, but I never agreed to marriage.

After graduation, I returned to the city where my family's company was based.

To my surprise, Simon gave up a fairly decent job opportunity in his hometown and dragged his suitcase straight to my city.

That day, at the rain-soaked train station, his hair was dripping wet, but his eyes were unusually bright as he said to me, "Cheryl, even if people say I married into your family for money in the future, I'll accept it. I just want to be with you."

To say I wasn't moved would be a lie.

After meeting him, my parents privately told me that our families weren't exactly "well matched", but they saw that he looked respectable and treated me sincerely. Especially after hearing his willingness to "marry in," they felt he had determination and gave their tacit approval.

My father only said, "We don't care about those superficial things. What matters is whether he treats you well. You just live your life properly together."

Friends around me warned me more than once. "Cheryl, be careful. When too many other things get mixed into love, it stops being pure."

But back then, I was drunk on love. I believed I had both the ability and the confidence to manage this relationship. As long as we loved each other, nothing else mattered.

To be fair, during the first few years of work, Simon did seem ambitious. At my father's company, even in an entry-level position, he worked hard. He was attentive to me, too—surprises on every holiday, big or small.

We spent a long time in the honeymoon phase. For a while, I truly thought I had broken the so-called curse of "unequal family backgrounds."

My dreams were chaotic, like an old, faded film full of static. In the end, they froze on the dinner scene—his distorted smile as he stared at his phone, so unfamiliar.

When I opened my eyes again, daylight had already flooded the room, the sunlight a little too bright.

I sat up and rubbed my aching temples.

Yesterday's anger, grievance, heartbreak, and self-doubt receded like a tide. They left damp traces behind, but they were gone at last.

The woman in the mirror had slightly swollen eyes, but her gaze was calm.

I got up early, did my makeup, and packed everything away. It was still early.

I didn't know what possessed me, but on a whim, I opened "SimonLovesClaire" profile again.

Sure enough, there was a new post.

It was already gaining traction, and the title alone made me laugh out loud.

[My fiancée found out I donated to my true-love streamer. She got jealous and threw a tantrum about canceling the engagement. Urgent, need advice.

[By the end of the year, I'm supposed to get married to my fiancée. Our relationship has always been stable.

[Recently, I've genuinely come to admire a talented streamer who's working hard to pursue her dreams, @ClaireBowler. I used the money I saved from work to support her dream.

[I didn't expect my fiancée to react so strongly after finding out and immediately say she wanted to cancel the engagement. She's probably just insecure and jealous.

[But now I'm confused. Once you're engaged, does that mean you can't admire and support other outstanding women?

[Also, if she insists on canceling the engagement without regard for appearances, shouldn't I receive reasonable compensation for the youth I've invested over these years, as well as the various costs I've paid for this engagement—including major financial and emotional investments? I hope everyone can share their rational thoughts with me.]