Chapter 1 Moving Out

Sylvie Riverson fell into silence. A pregnant pause later, she asked, "Are you being serious?"

"I am," I answered, determination overflowing from my voice. "What about you? Does your proposal still stand?"

"I'm abroad, but give me a month. No, two weeks. I'll come back in two weeks, and then we'll get married."

"I'll be waiting."

I hung up and looked at the photo Fabian Focker, Sophie's assistant, sent me, then I turned my phone off. Five years. We spent five years as a couple, and Sophie decided to chase novelty instead.

…

It was midnight when Sophie Riverson came back. I didn't welcome her with open arms. Instead, I was quietly packing up. Even though we only had two weeks left, I refused to spend even a single moment with her.

"Get me some water and fetch me my pajamas."

Her voice was dripping with imperiousness. She wouldn't even look at me. Typical. She only saw me as her servant. Her making me take her pajamas was her form of reward. That meant she would share the bedroom with me tonight.

The old me would be leaping with joy, but the new me didn't feel a thing. I kept on packing my stuff.

Not too long after, Sophie came out of the bathroom and realized I hadn't done as I was told. A frown creased her forehead, and she grumbled, "Don't just stand there! Fine, I'll wear the pajamas you love."

Quietly, I answered, "I'm going home for a bit." I zipped my suitcase up. Naturally, I didn't tell her I was going to marry her sister.

Sophie noticed my suitcase, and it reminded her of something. Her frown deepened, and she took a deep breath. "Can you stop this tantrum?" She was calm, as if this meant nothing to her.

"Fabian donated his blood to me. He's my savior, to an extent. His birthday doesn't come every day. So what if I celebrated with him? It's nothing. You're throwing a tantrum just because I missed out on getting that marriage license? Seriously?"

Just because? Just. Because? I laughed at myself. I see. So, getting our marriage official meant nothing to her. Another man's birthday was more important than that.

Perhaps she grew too audacious because I'd relented far too many times in this relationship. Maybe she subconsciously thought I would treat her as the center of my life forever.

It was… an exhausting life. I was exhausted. I did not need a relationship where I was nothing but a doormat to be stepped on and spat on.

She took my silence as an agreement and came up to me. Gently, she held my hand. "Come on, stop messing around. You don't have to leave home over something so unimportant. We can get that stupid license anytime. It's just a piece of paper. Why do you care so much about it?"

And that made my fury flare higher than before. She thought this would work as a de-escalation?

"A piece of paper? A. Piece. Of. Paper?" No, I couldn't hold it in anymore. "Our marriage license is worth less than Focker's birthday to you?"

"Yeah, it is!" Sophie answered without missing a beat, and she shot me a glare.

I wanted to say something, but the words died on my tongue. I gazed at her in disbelief. How could she even have the audacity to say that with such confidence?

Oh, I noticed that look. She was taking everything for granted. Fine, that was a good enough answer for me. I felt a weight getting dropped off my shoulders. And my heart.

"Fine, then I guess we'll not be taking that stupid piece of paper anytime soon." I turned to the guest room and slammed the door shut. That slam shattered my heart into a million pieces.

"Don't say that, Christopher! I know you're just being mad! You know I'd marry you!" Sophie shouted outside the door, still as impatient as ever. "You're my boyfriend. We've gone steady for years. Do you trust me that little? At least stand in my shoes for a moment! Have you ever thought about how I feel?"

I did not answer. She kicked the door angrily and stormed off.

I didn't expect more from her, anyway. Every time we fought, I was always the one who apologized, even if she was blatantly and utterly in the wrong. In the end, I was always the one who had to run de-escalation.

It was a miracle that she would apologize to me. There was no way she would hope so adamantly for forgiveness, especially not from me.