He Changed His Future For Her So I Changed Mine Too

The graduate school admissions are nearing an end. At the same time, a post titled, "What Happened to the Boy Who Left the Last Two Questions Blank for You?" goes viral. Amid countless comments criticizing people who throw away their futures for love, one young woman's boastful comment stands out. She writes, "Back then, he left the last two questions blank just so he could attend the same college as me. Now, he gives up his chance to attend graduate school abroad so that we won't have to enter a long-distance relationship. He says that between his future and me, I'll always be more important." Those who know they are loved always have the confidence to take it for granted. As soon as the comment is posted, countless replies pour in. There are envious replies and increasing arguments over the topic. I feel a twinge of envy because my boyfriend and I are the exact opposite. When my boyfriend does poorly on his exam, I want to apply to the same college as him. However, he advises me against it, saying my future is more important. Yesterday, he tells me he fails to secure a graduate school recommendation and won't be able to go abroad with me to continue his studies. Staring at the two lines on the pregnancy test, I begin seriously thinking about our future. Perhaps because the young woman has received too many hateful comments, she eventually posts a photo showing her boyfriend's side profile. She gloats, "You're all just jealous because I have a handsome boyfriend who loves me this much, aren't you?" The instant I see the photo, my blood runs cold. The man in that picture belongs to Joshua Salter, my boyfriend of seven years. Everything from the past comes crashing over me like a tsunami. It turns out the signs have been there all along. I wipe away my tears. Joshua is right. Between my future and him, my future is indeed more important.

I finally scored the World Cup tickets my fiancé, Louis, had been dying to get. I was thrilled and about to tell him the good news when I overheard his friend talking to him: "Skyler turned down a design gig at Milan Fashion Week just to be with you, and now you’re giving the ticket to Monica? That’s a dick move, man." Louis just chuckled, his tone dismissive. "Watching it with her is boring. You know I’m used to having Monica around for every World Cup." So he had already gotten tickets, and he never planned on taking me. The realization hit me then: for the past twelve years, every single World Cup, he had been by Monica’s side. Every time their team scored, she was the first person he hugged to celebrate. Back then, he would coax me: "Monica and I grew up together. I’m just used to it—she was around long before you were. Don't be mad, okay? Next time, I promise it’ll just be you and me." Suddenly, I just felt exhausted. I tore up the tickets, canceled our marriage registration scheduled for next month, packed my bags, and booked a flight back to my hometown for the very next day. This time, I was the one walking away.

On my wedding day, my fiancé showed up with another woman, flashing a marriage license. He announced, "She's my true love. Don't even think about taking her place." My doting brother sided with her too. "You've had a cushy life for over 20 years. Let her have this." I left quietly. My brother and my fiancé breathed a sigh of relief. They paraded the new girl around town, my brother even calling her his adopted sister to boost her status. They didn't know I'd gone to the border until someone mentioned me. I was done with them, but they started to regret it.

After being sent back in time to relive my life, I stopped standing up for the popular girl who got caught stealing. When she returned to college for classes, I dropped out. When she came to my house looking for me, I moved. I did everything I could to cut off all contact with her. Before I died in my last life, I knew she married me only for my family’s money, yet I still handed her my heart like a fool. The jewelry I gave her was “tacky.” Trying to get close to her was “annoying.” I held on to a cold, empty marriage, thinking that as long as I waited, she would eventually turn back to me. However, for more than twenty years, all I got was her indifference. I didn’t even dare touch the doorknob to her room. Then came the fire, and I risked my life to push her out the window to safety. Right before I died, I saw my wife, completely unharmed, run straight into the arms of our college valedictorian. Crying, she said she was finally free from the marriage that had made her miserable for decades. If life could start over, she said, she hoped to walk hand in hand with the person she truly loved. In that moment, my heart went dead. I let the fire swallow whatever remained of my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the bar where the popular girl was working part-time and stealing money from a customer. This time, I chose to call the police.

I was attending a mafia family wedding with my boyfriend when the bride tossed her bouquet, and it landed right in my arms. According to tradition, everyone in attendance was supposed to bless the lucky person who caught it. So, naturally, I looked over at my boyfriend, Matteo, thinking this was the moment he might finally propose to me. Instead, the groom let out an awkward cough. “Serena, Matteo and I already agreed beforehand that this bouquet is supposed to go to Livia. It’s really not right for you to just snatch it away like that.” Before I could even explain, Matteo stepped out from the crowd. His brows were furrowed, and he glared at me with pure annoyance. “Serena, I told you I have to make things up to Livia one hundred times. This bouquet is only the fifty-eighth time. Just give the flowers back to her and stop making things difficult for me.” It was Livia. Again. Years ago, when the two of them broke up after a massive fight, Livia ended up getting into a terrible car accident on a rainy night. Ever since then, Matteo convinced himself that he owed her for the rest of his life and claimed he had to make it up to her one hundred times. So, when she said she was afraid of the dark, he abandoned me at my apartment in the middle of the night just to be with her. When she said she loved roses, he took her up in a helicopter just to shower the sky with rose petals for her. Meanwhile, if I ever showed that I was upset, I was just being petty and unreasonable. In the past, I used to kick up a ruckus and cry about it. I even threw out a lunch he had personally cooked for Livia straight into the trash, and I smashed a birthday gift that he had meticulously picked out for her. Because of that, all of his family members and friends now looked down on me. They thought I was nothing but a toxic, dramatic shrew who didn’t deserve Matteo at all. To them, he and Livia were the ones who truly belonged together. Now, the entire crowd was staring at me, completely on edge. They were expecting me to throw another massive scene right here at the wedding, but this time, I didn’t. Instead, I just smiled, held out the bouquet, and handed it right over to Livia. "Here you go." Those flowers were filthy anyway, and I didn’t want them anymore. As for Matteo? I didn’t want him anymore, either.

The day after we set our wedding date for the tenth time, my fiancé reached past me to kiss his adopted sister. He presented crimson roses to her as she descended from the stage. "My princess, in this lifetime, I'll only ever be your protector." I stood quietly beyond the cheering crowd, then turned and walked away without looking back. After five years of engagement, this was the moment I finally gave up hope.