Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English | NEW
Synopsis
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."He spun around so fast that his arm jerked away from Valerie's waist like an electric shock.
The bouquet in Valerie's hands trembled, sending several petals scattering onto the pavement.
"Chloe? What are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be at work?"
His voice was laced with irritation, as if my very presence were an offense.
I didn't answer. I just stared at the crushed petals on the ground.
Then I looked up at the flowers in Valerie's arms.
"I thought you hated romantic nonsense?"
"So what is this?"
Derek’s face froze for a second before slipping back into the calm, practical mask I had known for six years.
"I was just holding these for Valerie. Don't overthink it."
When he said that, his eyes darted to the right.
"And your hand around her waist?"
"She tripped. I was just catching her."
"Do you always kiss someone on the forehead when you catch them?"
Derek went dead silent for a beat. Then, he took a step forward, trying to grab my hand.
I took a step back.
His hand hovered awkwardly in the air before he pulled it back.
"Chloe, let me explain. It’s really not what you think."
Valerie finally spoke up from the side.
"Chloe, seriously, it’s nothing. We just bumped into each other, and he was helping me hold the flowers."
When she called me Chloe, her voice was soft and gentle, just like it had always been.
In the past, hearing her call my name warmed my heart.
Now, it made bile rise in my throat.
"Valerie, I saw the whole thing with my own eyes."
I stared straight into her face.
"He walked out of his office with his arm around your waist. He kissed your forehead and gave you the flowers. You two walked down the entire block clinging to each other."
"You call that 'nothing'?"
The color drained from Valerie's face.
She instinctively glanced at Derek.
That single, terrified look was more honest than any excuse they could ever make.
Derek was still scrambling for control.
"Chloe, calm down. We’re in public. Stop making a scene."
Stop making a scene.
For six years, I never made a scene.
When he gave me nothing on Valentine’s Day, I didn't make a scene.
When there was no cake on my birthday, I didn't make a scene.
When he proposed with a lazy, half-assed sentence, I didn't make a scene.
He was so used to my quiet compliance that he thought I would swallow this, too.
"I'm not making a scene."
I held out the gift bag in front of him.
"Here. Happy sixth anniversary."
He looked down at it, refusing to take it.
"There are matching rings inside. I bought them because you couldn't even be bothered to get one when you proposed."
"We were supposed to take our engagement photos this weekend. I just canceled the session."
Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked away.
Derek called my name from behind.
I didn't look back.
When I got back to our rented apartment, it was four in the afternoon.
I sat on the couch without turning on the lights.
On the coffee table sat the matching mugs we bought together just last week.
Back then, I had found it sweet and cozy.
My phone buzzed relentlessly. Derek had sent over a dozen texts.
I didn't read any of them. I just flipped the phone face-down on the table.
I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts tangled into a knot.
Six years.
Derek and I had been together for six whole years.
We were college sweethearts, meeting during a campus club event in our sophomore year.
He wasn't much of a talker, and his looks were plain.
But he made me feel secure.
My parents had a terrible marriage. They fought constantly, screaming at each other every day of my childhood. Home was a never-ending warzone.
So when I grew up, I looked for only one quality in a man: steady, honest, reliable.
Derek seemed so honest.
He didn't smoke, didn't drink, never went out clubbing, and his social media was completely clean.
In six years, I had never seen him flirt with another woman.
At least, that was what I believed.
Valerie was my best friend. We had been in the same class since elementary school, and we went to high school and college in the same city.
Three years ago, on my birthday, I threw a dinner party with a table full of friends. I invited both Valerie and Derek.
That was the first time they officially met.
I remembered that during that dinner, Valerie and Derek barely exchanged a word.
It turned out that right after that dinner, they had hooked up.
Three years.
For three whole years, they had been sleeping together behind my back.
No wonder Valerie was always "too busy" on specific weekends.
No wonder Derek's business trips always aligned with Valerie's romantic dates.
No wonder every time Valerie described her boyfriend's extravagant surprises, I thought to myself that it sounded nothing like Derek.
Because Derek never acted like that with me.
He reserved all his romance exclusively for Valerie.
Sitting on this couch we had picked out together, I suddenly felt that every inch of this apartment was filthy.
The couch was filthy, the mugs were filthy, the bed was filthy.
The front door clicked open. Two people walked in.Derek walked in first, with Valerie trailing closely behind him.
Derek stopped right across from the couch, keeping his distance.
Valerie lingered by the entryway, head bowed, not daring to take another step.
"Chloe, we need to talk."
Derek’s tone was remarkably calm now, like a manager addressing a routine meeting.
I said nothing, waiting for him to speak.
"Valerie and I... we are together."
He finally stopped pretending she was just a casual acquaintance.
"It’s been three years."
"We didn't want to keep lying to you, but we just didn't know how to tell you."
"We both feel terrible about hurting you."
Valerie walked over then, standing beside Derek.
"Chloe, I'm so sorry," she whimpered, her voice cracking with tears. "Derek and I... we truly love each other."
"We never wanted to hurt you, but we couldn't let each other go."
"That’s why we kept it a secret."
"What do you want?" I asked flatly.
Derek and Valerie exchanged a glance.
Derek cleared his throat. "We were thinking... as long as you're okay with it, the three of us can still be in each other's lives, just like before."
"Valerie and I are in love."
"Moving forward, she and I will be together, and you can stay our close friend."
When those words left his mouth, my mind went entirely blank for two seconds.
Then, I laughed out loud.
"Close friends."
I repeated the words, savoring the sheer absurdity.
Derek’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
I stood up and walked over to the coffee table.
"If you loved her so much, why the hell did you propose to me last month?"
The moment the question dropped, the air in the room vanished.
Valerie whipped her head around to glare at Derek.
Her face wasn't angry—it was pure, unfiltered shock.
"You proposed to her?" she demanded.
Derek’s expression cracked.
"It’s not what you think," he rushed to reassure Valerie. "I only did it to keep Chloe pacified! Otherwise, she would have started suspecting things!"
"To keep me pacified?" I chimed in, smiling coldly. "You proposed to me just to keep me quiet so you could keep screwing her behind my back?"
Derek shut his mouth, trapped.
Valerie's eyes welled with tears. "You proposed to her? Then what am I to you?"
In that instant, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion washed over me.
I looked at the two people standing before me. One was the man I had dated for six years; the other was the friend I had trusted for twenty.
And here they were, bickering over a hollow proposal.
While I stood on the sidelines like an unwanted ghost.
"Enough," I said.
Both of them looked at me simultaneously.
"I agree."
Derek’s eyes instantly lit up with relief.
"You two can be together. I won't stand in your way."
"On one condition."
"Pay me seventy thousand dollars. After that, you two can do whatever the hell you want, and I'll disappear from your lives forever."
Over the last six years, I had covered more than half our rent. For three years, he swiped my credit cards, not to mention all the gifts, groceries, and cash transfers I had sent him.
It easily added up to seventy thousand dollars.
"Seventy thousand?" Derek frowned, his voice rising. "Are you insane?"
"Don't want to pay?"
I picked up my phone from the coffee table.
"Fine by me. I’ll blast the photos I took today all over Instagram, TikTok, and your company's Slack channels.""Let’s see what your boss and coworkers think of you."
Derek’s face darkened instantly.
"Chloe, don't push it."
"Push it?"
I let out a bitter scoff.
"When you paraded her right in front of my face, did you think about pushing it?"
"When you lied to me for three whole years, did you think about pushing it?"
"When you told me 'we're too old for romantic nonsense' and then turned around to shower her with roses, did you think about pushing it?"
Derek clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.
He stared at me, his lips pressed into a thin, vicious line.
"You have three days to wire seventy thousand into my account."
"Once the money clears, I vanish. You two can play house all you want."
"If you don't, I’ll make sure everyone in your life knows exactly what kind of trash you are."
Without another word, I grabbed my coat and walked toward the door.
"Chloe!" Valerie called out, her voice trembling.
I didn't stop.
"Don't call my name. You don't have the right."
The door slammed shut behind me with a heavy, hollow thud.
The sensor light in the hallway flickered on. I leaned against the cold concrete wall for a moment, catching my breath.
Gripping the handrail, I walked down the stairs step by step and stepped out of the apartment building.
A brisk November wind hit my face, biting and cold.
I pulled my coat tighter around myself and hailed a cab.
"Where to?" the driver asked.
I thought about it for a second and gave him the name of a nearby hotel.
I couldn't spend another second in that apartment.
Honestly, I never wanted to set foot in it again.
The hotel room was tiny—just a bed and a small desk. With the heavy curtains drawn, there was no telling whether it was day or night.
I took a shower, turning the water scalding hot.
My skin burned red, but inside, I was still freezing.
After drying off, I sat on the edge of the bed and finally opened the barrage of texts Derek had sent.
"Chloe, calm down. We can talk about the money."
"Seventy thousand is insane. Can we lower it?"
"Where are you right now? Come home and talk."
"Chloe?"
"Stop ignoring me!"
"If you dare post anything online, I swear to God, you’ll regret it."
The last message was an outright threat.
I took a screenshot and backed it up to the cloud.
Then I sent a single reply:
"Three days."
I put my phone on silent and shoved it under the pillow.
The room was dead quiet, save for the hum of the AC unit.
The phone buzzed against the mattress several times. I ignored it.
Eventually, the vibrations became relentless. I pulled it out to check.
It wasn't Derek. It was my mother.
"Chloe, how long have you two been dating now? It's about time you brought him home to meet us."
"Your father got drunk again today. We had another huge blowout."
"When are you coming to visit?"
I stared at the screen for a long time.
My mother had no idea what my life was really like.
In her eyes, I had a stable job and an honest, dependable boyfriend—everything was running smoothly on track.
She had no idea that this "honest" boyfriend had been cheating on me for three years.
She didn't know that her daughter had crouched on a cold curb today, laughing through her tears.
"I'm doing great, Mom."
"I'll bring him over next time."
I set the phone on the nightstand and switched off the lamp.
I didn't sleep a wink all night.
At six in the morning, my eyes snapped open.
It was an ingrained habit built over six years of making breakfast for Derek.
He claimed restaurant food upset his sensitive stomach, so every morning at six, I got up to make oatmeal, fry eggs, and chop fresh fruit.
Six years. Not a single day missed.
This morning, I bought a cold bagel and a bottle of milk from the convenience store downstairs and ate it standing on the sidewalk.
The bagel was dry, and the milk was freezing.
And yet, the sky didn't fall.
Derek's world hadn't collapsed, and neither had mine.
At nine, I arrived at the office like any normal day.
Sitting down at my desk, my monitor lit up with three unread emails.
Instead of checking them, I opened my Notes app.
I began reconstructing the timeline from scratch.
Three years ago, my birthday dinner was on September seventeenth.
Derek's first "business trip" after that was on October ninth.
Valerie first brought up her "new boyfriend" on October fifteenth.
She had told me, "I met this guy recently. He's really sweet."
I had even congratulated her back then.
I typed every single date into my phone, line by line.
At ten-thirty, my coworker Morgan came over with a stack of contracts.
She worked in the legal department, and we were close friends.
After I signed the documents, she didn't leave. She hovered beside my cubicle.
"You look terrible today. Did you pull an all-nighter?" she asked.
"Yeah, just dealing with some stuff."
"What kind of stuff? Want to talk about it?"
I looked up at her. She was wearing a sharp grey blazer, her hair tied back in a neat ponytail.
I hesitated for a second, then asked, "If you found out your partner of six years was cheating on you, what would you do?"
Chapters (4)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Watch & Promotions
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