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My name is Brianna, and I’ve been with Leo for seven years. I used to think we’d be together forever, until I stumbled upon a post: [Which is more painful: loving and not being loved, or being loved and not loving?] I was just casually scrolling, but I froze when I saw my boyfriend, Leo’s,
reply.
He wrote: “I think loving and not being loved is better than being loved and not loving. At least with unrequited love, you still have the feeling of love. But when you’re loved and don’t love back, the person beside you just makes you more and more irritated. Your heart is full of disappointment and loneliness, and you’d rather work overtime at the office than go home,
which is exactly how I feel right now.”
And there it was, on my phone screen: a message from Leo, sent just half an hour ago: [Honey, I have to work late tonight, can’t make it. Urgent project at work, everyone’s staying.]
I just stared at the message, silent for what felt like forever. I’d been about to send him
“Honey, happy 7th anniversary“, but I deleted it letter by letter, until all that was left was a single, hollow “Okay“.
I’d been so looking forward to our seventh anniversary. The table was set with all my carefully
prepared dishes, and the mango mousse cake I’d spent a month perfecting, all as a surprise
for Leo. Lately, since last month, every time Leo came home drunk from an evening out, he’d
mumble about mango mousse cake. I thought it was a new dessert he was craving, so I planned
to surprise him with one for our anniversary.
The clock on the wall ticked on, the hands slowly creeping towards mid. 1. The cream on
the cake had already started to melt, turning into a sticky mess on the table. A little deflated, I
got up and tossed the ruined cake, then made another one, carefully placing it in the fridge. I even wrote on a sticky note: Leo, there’s a surprise for you in the fridge! (≥v≤*)
Wrapped in a blanket, I sat on the empty living room sofa, watching a movie on TV and
waiting for Leo to come home. Holding that position for so long, my back started to ache, sol pulled the blanket up a little higher. On TV, the female lead was hysterically crying and yelling at her cheating boyfriend, screaming that he didn’t love her anymore. Watching that scene, my eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
“Welcome to Divine Pawnshop. We can satisfy all your needs, as long as you have enough to
pay the price.” A mysterious, deep voice echoed in the darkness.
“Ding-” My phone’s message alert jolted me awake, drenched in sweat. It’s that dream again, haunting me lately.
I grabbed my phone and saw a friend request. The profile picture was a cute anime girl with a mango–shaped hair clip, nicknamed Cherry. I don’t know why, but I accepted it almost without thinking. The moment I opened her feed, a video started playing. I assumed it was some small business advertising fruit cakes, until I saw a familiar hand in the video, wearing a matching couple bracelet just like mine. The man gently wiped a smudge of cream from the corner of the girl’s mouth, saying softly, “You’re such a little glutton. You even make a mess when you eat cake.” Then, the camera pans to reveal an exquisitely crafted mango mousse cake on the table.
20:14 Fri, 9 May
ས དྷཱི, 55%
Its three layers of gradient colors resemble a dreamy rainbow. The bottom layer is laden with fresh, plump mangoes, the middle a sweet strawberry lava filling, and the top is adorned with delicate patterns traced in edible gold leaf, shimmering alluringly in the light. The video ends with the man leaning in to gently kiss the corner of the girl’s mouth.
Seeing that, I instantly snapped awake. The air conditioning, instead of cooling me, made my heart pound. The entryway was eerily silent. Then, another update, popped up on my phone: [I’m so happy I got to eat the mango mousse cake my sweetheart made for me!]
I don’t know how long I sat there in the dark. My phone buzzed again, a message from Leo: [Baby, there’s a problem with the project, everyone’s in a bad mood, I’m grabbing a few drinks with colleagues, you go to sleep.]
I stared at the message, my mind racing with doubt. How could it be such a coincidence?
2014 F, 9 May