Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Ethan Davis and I raised Pixie together for two years. On the day of our third anniversary, Ethan Davis had booked a table by the window at a revolving restaurant. The lights of Shanghai glittered below us at night. The second he pulled out the necklace he’d gotten me, I said, "Ethan Davis, let’s break up."

The sapphire on the necklace glinted under the restaurant’s warm yellow lights. Ethan Davis stared at me in confusion—he probably thought I was joking.

I propped my chin in one hand and blinked. "I want to date more people."

"Who do you like?"

"You don’t know him." I grabbed my bag and stood up to leave. He grabbed my wrist, his eyes red.

He begged me to explain. I said, "What’s there to explain? If you don’t like someone anymore, you break up, right?" I acted like I’d never loved him—clean and decisive. I rushed back to our apartment and started packing my things.

Couple mugs, photo frames—I broke everything I couldn’t take with me. The jewelry and bags he’d given me, I packed up neatly and left them in the most visible spot in the living room. He could do whatever he wanted with them.

Pixie lay in his dog bed, whimpering as he watched me. His shiny, obsidian-like eyes never left me. I knelt down and petted his head, my voice catching: "Mom can’t take you out to play anymore. You have to be good and not give Dad too much trouble, okay?"

I couldn’t hold back my tears as I knelt in front of Pixie. Just then, Ethan Davis walked in. He froze at the entrance, the light hitting his face just right. He still looked so handsome, still had that boyish charm.

"Sophia Miller, you’re the one who said we should break up. I should be the one crying."

"Can’t I mourn the three years of my life that’s gone?" I wanted to have the upper hand in this breakup. At least later, people would say I’d dumped my ex—not the other way around.

Ethan Davis laughed coldly, his eyes falling on the stacked packages on the coffee table. "Take all your things. I don’t want to see a single one of them left."

"I’ll take everything that’s mine. I don’t want a single thing you gave me."

He stormed into the walk-in closet, grabbed my clothes, and threw them into my suitcase. He dragged the packed bag over to me and said, "Sophia Miller, I hate you."

"Good."

I meant it.

Sages have no desires or emotions. I was still far from that level—but I could at least walk away without hesitation, let go when I needed to, and move out in an orderly fashion. The next day, I went to work like nothing had happened.

I got a WeChat message from Ethan Davis: "Sister, let’s meet one more time today."

No.

"Sophia Miller, I deserve an explanation."

No explanation. Blocked. I’d promised myself I’d be a dog if I gave him a chance to win me back. I was the one who’d ended it—what would it look like if he talked me into staying? The "little prince" was probably crying somewhere, but from what I knew of him, he had plenty of friends. His life would go back to normal without me, and the pain would heal in a few days.

Only by thinking that way could I ease the guilt in my heart.

By noon, Ethan Davis had blown up my phone. I ended up taking out my SIM card and replacing it with a new one.

Later, after work, a colleague teased me: "I saw your little boyfriend waiting for you downstairs when I left earlier!"

Help.

Sure enough, Ethan Davis was waiting for me downstairs. He sat on a small sofa with his eyes closed, dark circles under them. Such a devoted young guy was rare. I tried to sneak past him, but he woke up. His voice sounded as helpless as a lost puppy—more helpless than Pixie. "Sister, can I just meet the person you like?"

I thought about it, then nodded. "Fine. But after this, you’ll accept the breakup, right?"

The second I agreed, the helpless look on his face vanished, replaced by a cold frost. I’d rarely seen him look like that—only a few times before, and always because of me.

When I’d complained about a pervert groping me on the bus. When I’d just started my job and colleagues tried to force me to drink at a dinner.

After that, Ethan Davis grabbed my arm and dragged me to his car without a word. I thought he still couldn’t let go—until he opened the car door quickly and tossed Pixie, who was in the back seat, into my arms.

Ethan Davis looked at me like I was his enemy, said one sentence, and drove away.

"Sophia Miller, you’re heartless. I hate you."

Poor Pixie—neither parent wanted him.

Poor me too.

He’d never get to meet my new boyfriend. After that day, Ethan Davis disappeared from my life completely.