Chapter 1

As Dashiell and I were having yet another argument, he angrily ripped off the necklace from his neck.

"Melody, I've had enough! Stop bothering me!"

This time, I didn't turn back. I just softly said, "Okay."

What he didn't know was that yesterday, someone had approached me to buy out his intimate photos with Scarlett.

I paid a million dollars to buy them all, as a way of closing the chapter on our relationship.

1

Dashiell froze, his hand gripping the necklace. "What did you say?"

I spoke calmly, "Alright, as you wish."

The necklace Dashiell had yanked off was our token of love, the first gift I'd bought when we became official. I'd worked part-time jobs to the bone to afford it.

Over the years, whenever Dashiell and I argued, he'd use the necklace to threaten me.

Each time, I'd give in. But now, I suddenly felt exhausted.

Constantly taking care of this man-child, waiting for him to pop the question... it was like chasing a pipe dream.

As I packed my bags, I added, "I won't bother you anymore after this."

I bent down to pick up the photo frame he'd thrown on the floor. The glass had shattered, and I accidentally cut my hand.

Blood seeped from the wound, and Dashiell's eyes flickered.

He grabbed the first-aid kit. "Melody, take back what you just said."

Before I could refuse, Dashiell was already beside me, expertly cradling my hand.

Rinsing, disinfecting, then applying a band-aid, he worked with his head down, gentle and attentive.

I used to baby his hands, knowing he needed them for competitions. I never let him do these little things.

But he'd always say that my concerns were his top priority.Just as the aroma of cooking wafted from the kitchen, Dashiell's hand slipped, pressing hard against my wound.

He rushed to the kitchen in a hurry, not minding the blisters forming on his hand from the heat.

He brought the porridge to me, but stopped halfway, scooping a small portion into a bowl for me to try.

"Taste this and tell me how it is. If it's good, I'll take it to Scarlett."

He added, "If it's not that great, then you can have it."

I looked at the thin layer of porridge at the bottom of the bowl, suddenly finding the situation laughable.

Dashiell had never cooked for me before. The only time I got to taste his cooking was because of Scarlett.

I put down my chopsticks, having lost my appetite, but under his watchful gaze, I slowly tasted the porridge.

It was bitter... and astringent.

Dashiell furrowed his brow, snatching the chopsticks from my hand, and snapped impatiently, "Are you a stupid pig? How can you cry while eating porridge!"

Only then did I realize tears had streamed down my face.

"Let's break up, Dashiell," I said with reddened eyes.

He frowned, about to speak, when the phone rang, interrupting him.

"Dashiell, when are you coming over? I'm all ready."After hanging up the phone, Dashiell made for the door without so much as a glance in my direction.

This time, I didn't chase after him like I usually do, asking why he had to leave so late.

The man's hand paused on the doorknob, sensing something was off.

He turned back to look at me, still sitting on the couch, and seemed somewhat uncomfortable.

"The club has an emergency training session, I need to rush over there," he explained, which was rare for him.

My gaze fell on my phone, but he thought I was still angry.

He came over and took my hand, planting a cool, perfunctory kiss on the band-aid: "Be understanding, okay?"

"We'll have plenty more time together in the future."

He lowered his voice: "Don't say things that upset me again, we're getting married, remember?"

With that, he grabbed his coat and strode out, slamming the door behind him. As it shut, the tears I'd been holding back flowed freely.

Dashiell, your lies aren't even convincing anymore. As your manager, wouldn't I know if there was extra training?

I looked at the app on my phone screen, my trembling finger hovering over it to delete, but I accidentally tapped it open instead.