Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ethan Davis was at my door again, wearing that innocent "model citizen of the 21st century" look. He had the nerve to say he needed to borrow soy sauce—such a clichéd excuse. It had been overused in idol dramas ten years ago.

But I still opened the door and handed him the soy sauce. Ethan Davis didn’t take it, though. Instead, he reached out and touched my forehead. "What’s wrong? You look pale. Do you have a fever?"

I swatted his hand away, stuffed the soy sauce into his palm, and shut the door without a word. I could still feel the warmth of his palm on my forehead. I scrolled through Weibo for a few minutes and saw he’d shared a classic line from One Day:

"We both will see each other again."

"I know we will."

Before long, he knocked again, looking panicked. "Pixie threw up."

I didn’t think twice—just ran into his place. Pixie was lying on the floor, surrounded by vomit. Ethan Davis hadn’t raised a dog in years; he definitely had no idea what to do.

I was still in my pajamas and slippers. I picked up the little dog from the floor and snapped at Ethan Davis, who was standing there helpless: "What are you standing around for? Go get the car!"

Pixie had parasites in his stomach. The vet gave him medicine and told us to go home.

This was the second time I’d shown up in front of Ethan Davis looking a mess since we broke up. I’d completely lost all my dignity.

Ex-girlfriend: Total defeat.

Pixie curled up in my arms as I sat on Ethan Davis’ couch. Everything felt so familiar. The furniture was exactly the same as our old apartment—even his half of our couple mugs was still on the coffee table, safe and sound.

"Does it feel familiar?"

"The ‘little prince’ is sentimental too?" I stroked Pixie’s fur with one hand, looking up at Ethan Davis with a hint of sarcasm. It was the first time I’d called him "little prince" to his face. I knew he hated that nickname—even though I’d mocked him with it countless times in my head after we broke up.

But he ignored my comment and asked, "Why did you lie to me?"

I frowned, confused. He repeated, "Back then—why did you lie to me?"

I wasn’t surprised he knew the truth. He was bound to find out eventually. I replied weakly, "It’s all in the past."

It was over, after all.

When I was dating Ethan Davis, I’d initially thought he was just an ordinary middle-class guy like me. I never imagined I’d end up in a clichéd "rich mother-in-law shuts down the relationship" scenario.

Mrs. Davis, on the phone, sounded like an elegant middle-aged woman. I had no idea how she’d gotten my contact info. When she asked to meet me at a café, I’d even prepared myself for her to throw coffee at me. I’d also imagined if she’d bring Ethan Davis’ childhood sweetheart along to tell me to back off—and whether I’d stand my ground.

But Mrs. Davis came alone. What’s more, she’d taken the subway to meet me. Who knew rich people cared so much about being eco-friendly?

The second I saw Mrs. Davis, I froze. She looked exactly like my dad’s first love! My dad had once pointed to a famous actress on TV and said she was his first love. I’d brushed it off at the time—never thinking I’d meet that "celebrity" in real life, in this way.

She’d retired from acting at 30 and married a wealthy businessman. Back then, my parents had just worked their way up to senior positions in finance.

"You don’t have to be surprised. Your dad and I did date once," she said.

The "German pseudo-sibling" trope almost gave me a heart attack. I immediately 脑补 a drama where I was her biological daughter—abandoned so she could marry a rich man. Luckily, I looked just like my mom.

"I asked you here today to tell you that Zhouzhou wants to be a dentist. His dad and I want to send him to Germany for further studies—it’ll be six years, maybe longer."

"Of course, we know Zhouzhou likes you very much, and we respect your choice. The best option is for you to go with him. We’ll cover all your expenses abroad."

"From what his dad and I know about Zhouzhou, if you don’t go with him, he’ll definitely refuse to go to Germany. We won’t let him throw away such a great opportunity for his future."

As if I cared about the "salary" she was offering for being the "prince’s study buddy."

We were two independent people. I couldn’t give up the job I loved for him—and I couldn’t let Ethan Davis give up his future for me, either. I refused to be the one holding him back, or the reason he regretted his choices.

Long-distance relationship? That was my first thought. But six years apart—could I last that long? Could he? Was I supposed to tie him down, stopping him from seeing the wider world and meeting better people? Should I let him go, to set him free?

Mrs. Davis said nothing, giving me time to think. After a long while, the worst decision finally took shape in my mind—but I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

I don’t know how long I sat there in silence before Mrs. Davis finally spoke, gently urging: "You’re both still young. You have a long future ahead of you. Time will teach you not to make promises lightly."

I knew exactly what she meant. Finally, I picked up my water cup, took a sip, and forced my dry throat to work. I nodded. "Auntie, don’t worry. I’ll break up with Ethan Davis as soon as possible."

I knew Ethan Davis well. He was stubborn—once he set his mind to something, he never changed. Unless I told him I’d given up on him, he’d definitely choose me over his dream.

Mrs. Davis took my hand. "Auntie still likes you very much. When Zhouzhou finishes his studies and comes back—if he does come back—I’ll definitely support you two being together."

I smiled politely at her, but didn’t respond to her approval. Why should I be the one waiting?

Later, when I told Olivia Wilson about the breakup, she saw right through my "noble sacrifice." I’d used my departure to "set him free"—painting myself as some great martyr. But deep down, I just didn’t have faith in our future.

I couldn’t deny I felt guilty toward Ethan Davis. I’d planned his future according to my own rules. In my heart, my partner would never be more important than my dreams and my future—and I wanted him to chase a better tomorrow, even if I wasn’t by his side.

After we broke up, I struggled to move on for a long time. At my parents’ urging, I’d met a few blind dates. We’d had meals and watched movies, but nothing ever came of it. The guys complained to my parents, saying I wasn’t serious. Only I knew—the part of my heart that cared had already flown abroad with someone else.

Ethan Davis called my name several times before I snapped back to reality. "Sophia Miller, my parents live abroad all year round. They don’t know me as well as you do. Why did you believe everything my mom said? She told you to break up with me just to make me focus on my studies. I know you both meant well, but I’m not that childish—I wouldn’t joke with my future. You’re so amazing; I’d never let myself fall behind." He paused, then added, "I’d planned to go abroad for studies from the start. I was just trying to figure out how to tell you."

Even though I wasn’t surprised, I couldn’t help asking: "How did you find out?"

"The day you agreed to let me meet your ‘new boyfriend’," Ethan Davis said, his expression sharp with frustration. He paused, then continued: "I went back later. You weren’t on a date with some guy—you were alone, drinking to drown your sorrows. That’s when I knew—you’d lied about having someone else."

I coughed awkwardly. Maybe it was the overload of information, but my head felt fuzzy.

Ethan Davis kept talking: "I couldn’t think of any other reason, so I went back and asked my mom. She didn’t hide it from me. I didn’t fully agree with her, but some of what she said made sense. Six years is too long. I had no right to ask you to wait that long. How many six-year stretches does a girl have in her prime?"

I glared back at him, reluctantly explaining: "He wasn’t my boyfriend—just a blind date."

A satisfied look crossed his face. Then he pushed his luck, saying:

"Sophia Miller, I’ve never met anyone as ruthless as you when it comes to breaking up."

I laughed, tilting my head to ask: "Have you had other girls who couldn’t bear to break up with you?"

Ethan Davis coughed lightly, then pulled a small box out of his drawer. Inside was my bracelet—the one I’d left at his clinic when I’d rushed out after my tooth extraction.

But under the bracelet, there was a ring.

"Sophia Miller, why do I always have to be the one chasing you?"

Ugh—he’d done it again, stealing the spotlight.

"Actually, I wanted to do this at that last dinner," he said. "I wanted to tell you: Wait for me to come back, and we’ll get married."

Tears spilled from my eyes before I could stop them. Ethan Davis was just about to get down on one knee when I tackled him to the floor. I grabbed the ring and slipped it onto my ring finger—it fit perfectly. "It’s not too late," I said.

Ethan Davis had to ruin the moment, though. "Do you have a fever?"

I shook my head, burying my face in his chest. "No. Just a little stomachache."

He didn’t believe me, panicking and trying to get up to find medicine. But I clung to him tightly, pinning him down. Finally, he sighed in defeat. "How about a cup of brown sugar water?"

We looked at each other and laughed. Pixie, who’d just woken up, crawled over and snuggled into Ethan Davis’ arms too. Anyone looking at us would’ve said we were the sweetest little family of three!