Three Years Wrong: I Walked Away

I turned around and walked out of the private room. My high heels landed on the carpet without making a single sound.

The cold air from the hallway hit my face, clearing my mind.

Soon, I heard hurried footsteps come from behind me.

Julian came out of the room chasing me and caught me, then dragged me into the dim corner of the hallway and pinned me against the cold wall.

Nearly six-foot-three tall, he towered over me with an imposing presence. He braced both hands on either side of me, trapping me firmly within his arms.

"Teresa, what exactly do you want?" He looked down at me condescendingly, slightly panting, his tie crooked, with impatience and frustration in his stunning eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses. "You have been giving me the silent treatment every day for the past few months, and it is all because of Marlee? How many times do I have to explain this? Her father became disabled after saving my father's life back then. She is the only child the Scott family has now, so I am taking care of her because I owe it to her family! She grew up surrounded by men. She is not as calculating as you think. Can you stop maliciously assuming the worst about someone and picking on her because of that?"

Hearing him say those harsh words to me, I tilted my head back and looked at the man I had loved for four years.

The light fell on his sharply defined face, making him look elegant and refined.

Four years ago, he, the son of the Lohan family, a man no woman in Metropola could reach, had waited for me in the pouring rain for an entire night just to give me a box of freshly baked pastries.

Back then, people in our circle laughed at him. "That daughter of the Mendez family is so aloof and stubborn. She is impossible to please. You can get every woman you want. Why do you have to get yourself into trouble with her?"

At the time, Julian casually flicked away his cigarette ash and said, "I just like the way she looks down on everyone. Even if her temper is bad, I can always spoil her. She is that beautiful, so it is only natural that she gets to be a little difficult."

He did exactly what he said.

We had dated for three years and had been engaged for one.

He had turned me into the most envied woman in Metropola.

I casually told him that I wanted to see snow, and he flew me overnight to a foreign city where it was snowing. When I suffered from stomach pain during my period, he canceled a cross-border business meeting about a deal worth hundreds of millions of dollars and stayed by my side, handing me ibuprofen and a glass of water when I was lying in bed.

Everyone said I was everything to Julian. Anyone who even touched me would make him fly into a rage.

But at some point, our relationship had quietly soured.

Two years ago, he brought Marlee to Metropola.

At first, he really only arranged a sinecure for Marlee at a branch of Lohan Group.

But gradually, Marlee began to infiltrate our lives frequently.

When she had a stomachache in the middle of the night, Julian left me halfway through making love, got dressed, and rushed over to deliver medicine to her.

When Julian and I went to pick a wedding dress for me, Marlee insisted on coming along. She tried on bridesmaid dresses in a carefree manner, then turned around and asked Julian, "Dude, do I look better in a wedding dress, or does Teresa?"

At the time, Julian laughed and gently tapped her on the head. "What nonsense are you talking about? You can wear one when you get married someday."

Marlee made a grimace. "I am not getting married. I want to be your sidekick forever."

Back then, Julian just smiled helplessly and then turned to comfort me. "She is still young. She does not understand boundaries. Cut her some slack. She meant no harm."

But I did not agree with him.

Last month, I came home early from a business trip and found a pair of lace underwear that did not belong to me in the bathroom of our master bedroom.

Julian explained, "Her shared apartment had a water outage, so she came over to take a shower. She left in a hurry and forgot it. I had the maid throw it away. Nothing happened between us, Teresa. You have to believe me."

That night, Julian knelt by the bed and massaged my calves for the entire night to comfort me. He even transferred shares of two film companies under Lohan Group to me.

He kissed away my tears and, in a hoarse voice, repeated over and over, "Teresa, I swear, you are the only woman I will ever want to be my wife."

He was willing to give me the title of his wife, high social status, and wealth.

And he always wanted my body. He still desired me as intensely as if we had just been together.

But what he gave Marlee was unconditional favoritism, indulgence that made him abandon all boundaries for her, and companionship where he would show up whenever she called, no matter how late it was.

He had split his love between two people.

He could not let go of me, his beautiful fiancee who brought him pride, nor Marlee, the person he could be completely himself around.

"Julian," I looked straight into his eyes, so calmly that I myself was terrified about this. "Do you think I am petty?"

When he saw my expressionless face, a flicker of panic crossed his face.

Before, whenever I was angry, I would throw things or mock him coldly until he lowered his head and said every sweet thing he could think of.

But I had never looked at him the way I would look at a stranger.

"That is not what I meant..." He instinctively reached out, wanting to pull me into his arms like he always did, resting his chin against the top of my head. "Teresa, I just want us to be okay. We are getting married next month. Can we stop fighting over outsiders?"

His breath was warm against my ear, carrying the familiar tenderness that had once made me lose myself.

This was what Julian was best at, using his flawlessly pretty face and the gentle composure of someone in power to smooth things over again and again.

Just then, his phone in his pocket started vibrating frantically.

The screen lit up, showing Marlee's name.

Julian frowned and hung up immediately.

But moments later, a WhatsApp notification rang out, sounding especially jarring in the quiet hallway.

Julian did not check it. He only stared at me. "I am not answering it nor checking it. I am staying with you tonight."

I curled my lips, a trace of mockery flickering in my eyes. "Take a look. What if your friend is dying?"

His eyes darkened slightly. In the end, he still took out his phone.

He saw a photo.

Marlee was crouching by the roadside in thin pajamas. Her knees were covered in swollen red marks left by the ice scraping against her skin. There was only one short line of text that came with the photo. "Dude, I am so cold. My legs hurt so much. I don't know where I should go..."

Julian suddenly tightened his grip around the phone, his knuckles turning pale.

He looked up at me, a trace of nervousness and conflicted feelings flashing through his eyes, so faint that it was almost impossible to notice. "Teresa..."

"Go." I cut him off.

He froze for a moment. "What?"

"I said, go save your good friend." I took a small step back, breaking free from his hold, my expression frighteningly cold. "Don't let her freeze."