Chapter 5

Last month, I had chronic, severe stomach pain for weeks.

The doctor recommended an immediate laparoscopic surgery to remove a potentially precancerous polyp.

I was terrified. A week before the procedure, I begged Chloe to accompany me to the hospital.

She didn't even look up from her phone. "We have a major project launch next week. I can't take time off. It's just a minor outpatient surgery, Carter. Go by yourself. Don't be so needy."

Swallowing my tears, I signed the consent forms alone. I lay on the cold operating table alone.

When the anesthesia wore off, I was shivering from pain and sweat, barely having the strength to pour myself a glass of water.

I grabbed my phone, desperate to hear Chloe’s voice.

She picked up, but the background was loud and bustling.

"Hey, Chloe... are you done with work? I'm really hurting..." My voice trembled.

"I'm with a client right now. It's super loud here. I gotta go, get some rest!" She hung up within ten seconds.

I stared at the black screen, tears burning my eyes.

Needing some hot water, I held onto the wall, slowly dragging my feet out of the recovery room.

But as I rounded the corner near the orthopedic clinic, I froze.

There, right outside the doctor's office, my girlfriend—who was supposedly "meeting a client"—was kneeling on the floor, tenderly massaging Tristan's ankle.

Tristan was sitting in a chair, wearing his limited-edition sneakers, complaining, "It's your fault. You just had to drag me to that mall, and now I have a blister."

Chloe gently applied a band-aid, her voice softer than I had heard in years. "My bad, my bad. I'll drive you home and buy you dinner, okay?"

Standing in that sterile hallway, the draft blew right through my thin hospital gown.

I didn't storm over. I didn't scream.

I just stood there quietly, watching them laugh as they stepped into the elevator together.

Suddenly, I just felt so incredibly tired.

So tired.

To preserve a relationship with a woman who didn't love me, and a brother who never respected me, I had turned myself into a circus clown.

She didn't lack boundaries; she just didn't care about mine.

Whether she was actually trying to "get close to my family" or just using Tristan to scratch some taboo itch, I didn't care anymore.

Once something is ruined, I throw it away.

I walked back to my hospital bed and fell into the most peaceful sleep I’d had in years.

From that day on, I stopped arguing. I stopped checking her phone. I stopped reacting to Tristan’s provocations.

Chloe actually thought I had finally "matured" and learned to be "understanding."

She had no idea that when a man stops fighting with you, it means he has already checked out.

I began studying like a maniac to finish my CFA certification and secretly sent my resume to top investment firms in New York.

I was never dumber than Tristan. My SAT score was nearly perfect, and I had topped my class in college.

But my parents were incredibly biased. They threw all their money at Tristan so he could play around at an expensive school in London, while forcing me to stay local and work part-time to pay for his lifestyle.

But I was done accepting that fate.

The moment I stopped focusing on Chloe and Tristan, my world became limitless.

With my stellar resume and flawless interviews, I landed a Senior Associate position at a powerhouse firm on Wall Street, with an annual package close to $500,000.

Everything was set. I just needed a clean break.

I was planning to tell her calmly on the day of the wedding fitting.

But she chose to prioritize Tristan’s cat instead.

So be it.

She could go spend the rest of her life with that cat.