Chapter 2

I can't quite recall when it started, but the clothes Abby brought over began to match my style, and we started resembling a typical couple more and more.

This continued until I graduated from school and, against her advice, stubbornly entered the entertainment industry.

She asked me why, wondering if she hadn't given me enough.

I told her it was because I liked it.

In truth, I was lying. Liking it was only part of it; more importantly, I wanted to earn my own way and be her equal partner in every sense. I didn't want to always rely on her finances, even for buying her a gift.

A sudden gust of cold wind interrupted my thoughts, and I blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall.

5.

When I got home, Abby still hadn't returned.

I turned on the lights and stood in the living room, cradling the cat that came running to me.

We had found the cat together in the neighborhood, raising it from a tiny kitten into a clingy, chubby orange tabby.

I bought the house with my first paycheck. It wasn't large, just a simple three-bedroom, one-living-room place, but we had chosen and arranged every piece of furniture ourselves.

I stubbornly called it our home.

We used to love curling up on the couch to watch TV, with Abby holding the orange cat and snuggling into my arms while I nestled into the sofa.

Abby always liked to sneak a kiss on my lips when I was engrossed in the show, then jump up and dash to the bedroom before I could react.

I would always chase after her, pinning her down on the bed to tickle her. Abby was extremely ticklish, and she would always beg for mercy during those moments.

Click.

The door suddenly opened.

Abby bent down to take out her slippers from the shoe cabinet, then stood there looking at me.

I didn't rush over to hug her as I usually would.

"Where have you been?"

Abby's brow furrowed.

"Are you questioning me?"

I pressed my lips together, not wanting to admit that her tone made me feel even more aggrieved.

"No, I just wanted to ask what you've been busy with lately. We haven't had a meal together in ages."

Abby smiled, walking over to wrap her arms around my waist and gently resting her head on my shoulder. "I know I've been neglecting you because of work. I didn't mean to ignore your messages. Once things settle down at the company, let's go on that scenic getaway you always wanted."

"Abby."

"Hmm?"

Abby looked up, puzzled by the sudden sadness in my voice.

"If you ever fall for someone else, promise you'll tell me. I don't want to be kept in the dark."

Abby paused for a moment, then casually asked, "What's wrong?

Why say that?"

I shook my head, saying nothing more, and turned to the kitchen to make her a bowl of noodles.

Watching Abby eat, with sweat beading on her nose, a thought flashed through my mind: online, there are stories of housewives coldly washing their husbands' underwear, and here I am, Leland, making noodles with a heavy heart for Abby. How ironic.

6.

Halfway through her meal, Abby received a call. I glanced at the caller ID-it was Rylan.

After the call, Abby looked anxious. "Leland, there's something at the company I need to handle. I won't be back tonight."

With that, she left without looking back, ignoring my attempts to stop her.

I sat on the sofa, forcing myself to calm down.

After mechanically washing up, I lay in bed, unable to sleep, wondering where Abby was and if she was lying next to Rylan like she used to lie in my arms.

I don't know how much time passed before I drifted off, only to be jolted awake by a sudden, urgent ringing.

I checked my phone; it was 3 a.m., and Kathleen's name was flashing on the screen.

I quickly answered. Kathleen was always a considerate manager and wouldn't disturb me at such an hour unless it was important.

My instincts were right.

"Leland, listen to me. Someone leaked your past with Miss Ashton. Now the internet is buzzing with rumors that you're being kept. The whistleblower even uploaded photos of you two together at various locations."

I gripped my phone tightly. It was obvious I was being used as a scapegoat.

The backlash against Rylan's award was too intense, and the best way to divert attention was to release an even bigger scandal.

There had been rumors before, but none had hit so suddenly, catching Kathleen and the PR team off guard.

"People online are saying Rylan is Miss Ashton's true love, and you only got close to her because of your looks, seizing the opportunity to win her over while Rylan was away."

"The situation is out of control. Rylan himself has stepped in, and both the company account and your personal account are under siege."

"Calm your fans down first."

I agreed, and Kathleen immediately hung up, likely to discuss strategies with the company's higher-ups.

Logging into Weibo, the flood of notifications briefly froze my phone.

Opening my personal account, I found the comments section had turned from a fan club into a barrage of vicious insults.

"Interloper, taking advantage of the situation. How shameless."

"No wonder you rose so quickly. It's all thanks to selling yourself."

"How dare you compete with Rylan for a partner. You should be ashamed. Do you even deserve it?"

"Ms. Ashton and Rylan are a perfect match. Why don't you just disappear, you third wheel?"

Some fans tried to defend me, but their voices were quickly drowned out.

"Leland, get out of the entertainment industry."

"The industry doesn't need someone like you."

"If you put as much effort into honing your acting skills as you do into pleasing your sponsor, you'd have won an award by now."

"A scoundrel is a scoundrel, even if no one wants them."

The hashtag "Leland, get out of the entertainment industry" was rapidly climbing the trends.

Feeling lost, I typed Rylan's name into the search bar.

Rylan: "It's been a while, Abby. Do you remember our promise?

I've returned as we agreed. What about you? Do you still remember your original intentions?"

The post was accompanied by an old photo of the two of them, their youthful faces clearly from many years ago.

The paparazzi's revelations, combined with Rylan's Weibo post, drove angry fans and self-righteous bystanders to flood my personal account with comments.

Some sympathized with Rylan, believing I had stolen his girlfriend.

Others used me as a target, simply to unleash their frustrations.

The harsher they insulted me, the more sincere their blessings for Rylan and Abby seemed.

Yet, I had only been with Abby after they broke up.

I was Abby's boyfriend.

I was the one she proposed to.

But now, the entire internet was celebrating him and Abby, while I had become the despised third wheel.

How absurd.