Chapter 1

Tags: Cheating Ex, Betrayed by Best Friend, Female Awakening, Sweet Revenge, Karma

In the six years I was with my boyfriend, I never received a single flower.

He always said, "We’re basically an old married couple. We don't need all that fake romantic nonsense."

So there were no gifts on Valentine’s Day, no cake on my birthdays, and his so-called proposal was just an offhand remark: "Maybe we should just go down to the courthouse and sign the papers."

I comforted myself by thinking he was just pragmatic, a man built for real life.

Today was our sixth anniversary. I took a half-day off from work to surprise him.

When I arrived outside his office building, I saw him walking out the front doors. His arm was wrapped tightly around a girl’s waist, and in his other hand, he held a massive bouquet of flowers.

That girl was Valerie, my childhood best friend.

Suddenly, a memory flashed into my mind—Valerie texting me just last month.

"My boyfriend is such a romantic. He set up another huge surprise for me!"

Every time Valerie gushed about how her boyfriend booked exclusive restaurants weeks in advance or hid diamond necklaces inside flower arrangements, I had smiled and nodded. But deep down, my chest had ached with a suffocating heaviness.

Now, standing across the street, staring at that bouquet, I finally knew who that boyfriend was.

I stood across the street.

In my hands was a gift bag containing a pair of matching rings.

Today marked our six-year anniversary.

I had taken half the day off just to surprise him.

When Derek walked through the revolving doors of his office building, I was just about to cross the street.

One of his hands was wrapped around the waist of the girl beside him, while the other held a bouquet of roses.

That girl was Valerie.

My childhood best friend since we were seven years old.

Derek leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

Then, he handed the flowers to her.

Valerie took them, stood on her tiptoes, and wrapped her arms around his neck, draping her entire body over him.

The two of them walked down the sidewalk, shoulders pressed tight, their shadows melting into one.

I gripped the gift bag so hard my knuckles popped.

The pedestrian light turned green, then red, then green again. I didn't move an inch.

It wasn't until their silhouettes were about to vanish around the street corner that I pulled out my phone.

I sent Derek a text.

"Happy anniversary! How do you want to celebrate tonight?"

As the message sent, I stared at the screen, my fingers trembling uncontrollably.

His reply came almost instantly.

"We’re past the honeymoon phase, why bother with that stuff? We’re not kids."

Right after, another text popped up.

"Don't wait up for dinner tonight. Big project deadline at work. Pulling an all-nighter."

I stared at those two lines, then looked down at the rings in my hand.

A bitter laugh tore through my throat.

Last month, Derek "proposed" to me. Calling it a proposal was generous—he was just lying in bed scrolling through TikTok, without even bothering to look up, when he casually muttered:

"Maybe we should just go down to city hall and get married."

No ring. No flowers. Nothing.

Yet, I had been thrilled all night, convincing myself that he was finally ready to commit.

The very next day, I bought our wedding bands and booked a bridal photoshoot for this coming weekend.

I opened my phone, pulled up the chat with the photography studio, and typed:

"Hi, I’m so sorry, but I need to cancel my appointment for this weekend."

The studio replied quickly.

"Would you like to reschedule or receive a full refund?"

"A full refund, please."

After hitting send, I scrolled up our chat history.

From the initial booking to today, there were forty-seven messages.

I had spent over twenty minutes asking about ring styles, and the customer service rep had shown more patience than Derek ever had in six years.

My phone chimed with a notification.

It was from Valerie.

A photo, captioned:

"My boyfriend surprised me with flowers again! Ecuadorian roses. He said they last forever, just like his love for me."

The bouquet in the picture was identical to the one Derek had just handed her on the street.

My thumb slid up our chat history.

Three days ago, she told me her boyfriend reserved a table at a Michelin-star restaurant.

Five days ago, she bragged that he hid a necklace inside a bouquet.

Eight days ago, she said he bought her a pair of limited-edition sneakers.

Eleven days ago, she said he drove her out to the coast to watch the sunset.

I scrolled all the way back three months.

Every two or three days, she had shared another grand romantic gesture.

Those dates, those exact days... I remembered every single one of them.

On the twelfth of last month, Derek told me he had an out-of-town business trip.

That same day, Valerie posted about her boyfriend taking her on a romantic getaway to a cabin in the mountains.

On the twenty-sixth, Derek said he had a corporate team-building retreat.

Valerie spent that night celebrating her anniversary with her mystery man.

I pressed my phone against my knees and crouched down by the curb, my head buzzing violently.

All those times... they were together.

The walk signal turned green again.

I stood up, clutched the gift bag, and walked across the street, one heavy step at a time.

Derek and Valerie hadn't gone far.

They were standing outside a boba shop. Valerie was holding the roses while Derek ordered for her.

As I stepped up behind them, I heard Derek tell the barista, "Light ice, thirty percent sweet."

Her exact preference.

I only drank hot drinks. In six years, he never remembered that.

Or maybe he knew. He just never cared.

"Derek."