My best friend Shandy, heartbroken over her recent breakup, dragged me to the bar to drown our sorrows. The music thumped through the dimly lit space as we took our seats.
Shandy, already heavily intoxicated, buried her face in my shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Mannie... Why did he betray me? I was always so good to him..."
She mumbled, half-drunk, "I really envy you and Ryan... You've been together since high school, almost ten years now, right?"
When Ryan's name came up, I couldn't help but smile weakly.
Ryan and I were childhood sweethearts, and after ten years of love and struggle, we were finally about to marry.
I gently reassured Shandy, "Fate is funny that way... Maybe your true soulmate is just around the corner…"
Before I could finish, a loud cheer erupted from a nearby booth. People were shouting in excitement:
"Thirty seconds, no less!"
"Mr. Ryan, what are you waiting for? The girl's already agreed!"
"Come on, take your bet like a man!"
The commotion in the bar drew my attention. I turned my head, and there, in the crowd, a familiar figure abruptly caught my eye.
It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck me.
I froze. My mind went blank.
The man who had kissed me goodbye just this morning, the one who promised me he loved me, was now kissing a young woman passionately in the bar.
In the midst of the loud cheers, they kissed as if they couldn't let go of each other.
Ryan's eyes were closed, his face flushed with desire, unmistakably lost in the moment.
"Mannie, what's wrong? You're shaking..." Shandy, still dazed, asked me in confusion, "Are you cold?"
I trembled as I pulled out my phone, dialing Ryan's number.
The ringing sound cut through their kiss.
The girl blushed, wiping the lipstick off her lips. Ryan frowned when he saw my call and looked conflicted.
He started to stand up, but someone from the other side of the booth held him back.
"Mr. Ryan, the time hasn't passed yet. You can't back out now."
Ryan shook his head, signaling towards his phone.
The girl noticed the name on the screen, and the next second, she pulled him into another passionate kiss.
The crowd cheered even louder.
I watched in agony, my eyes fixated on them, unable to look away.
How long they kissed, I stared—agonizingly, endlessly—until the call finally ended.
I gripped my phone so hard my nails dug into my palm, drawing blood.
I should have marched over there and slapped him across the face.
I should have cried, asking him how he could do this to me, how he could betray me like this.
But I didn't.
After getting Shandy safely into a cab, I returned home alone.
I sat on the couch, staring at the cozy home we'd just moved into.
"Mannie, why are you so angry?"
I felt awkward, trying to hide my disgust. "You smell like alcohol. Go take a shower first."
Ryan didn't respond. As he removed the lid from the wonton bowl, he began his usual chatter.
"The wontons are best when they're hot. If they cool down, they won't taste as good."
The familiar scent nearly made me tear up.
I remembered the days when Ryan and I were starting out, struggling with our business, living in a run-down apartment, eating nothing but steamed buns and instant noodles.
That's when my stomach problems began.
Ryan, always caring, would buy me a warm bowl of wontons from the street vendor when he could.
Back then, he'd held my hand with misty eyes, swearing that he'd never let me go hungry again and would make sure I had a life that others envied.
How laughable—my stomach was still suffering, but he had already broken his vow.
After Ryan went upstairs to shower, I picked up his phone from the coffee table and unlocked it with my birthday.
No unusual messages, no suspicious calls.
I frowned and opened his social media.
Ryan rarely posted on his feed—mostly dry, industry-related articles.
But there, in the list of likes, one account caught my eye. It had a black rose bouquet as its avatar.
Ryan had saved this person as: Wendy Snow, Procurement Department Newcomer.
My instincts told me something wasn't right.
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