Two-sided Love

Rick Moore's high school sweetheart was the one who bullied me.

When I confronted him about it, he casually dismissed it with, "We were young and foolish then; she didn't realize the harm she caused."

And that was the end of the conversation.

I thought if I could just endure it, I could marry Rick.

But when he decided to put down our beloved dog, which we had raised together for three years only for sake of his dream girl, I lost all hope on him.

I turned around and sent those two scoundrels to jail.

May they reflect on their actions in prison.

1.

On our third anniversary, I took a day off and prepared a lavish meal at home, waiting for Rick to return.

The table was laden with his favorite dishes, accompanied by the watch and shoes he had long coveted. I arranged sunflowers, purchased by myself, in a vase.

The sunflowers were vibrant and in full bloom, symbolizing hope and new beginnings; it had been a long time since I last thought of buying them.

The ticking of the clock on the wall echoed in the increasingly silent room, occasionally interrupted by the dog's whimpering.

By nine in the evening, the food on the table had been reheated several times, yet Rick still hadn't come home.

I didn't turn on the lights.

I just leaned back on the sofa to nap, with the haunting light of my phone illuminating my face.

The screen displayed my unanswered calls, the last one asking Rick, "Where are you?"

There was no response.

The Samoyed at my feet licked my toes affectionately, sensing my unhappiness, and nudged me with its head, trying to warm my legs with its fur.

I was weary of this endless cycle.

I had worked overtime for days to earn this rare day off, originally planning to go to the amusement park.

But Rick suddenly got a call about an issue at work and left without a word.

I got up to look for him, feeling a slight discomfort in my stomach.

Sitting for too long had made my legs numb.

I wasn't paying attention and tripped over a chair, hitting the edge of the table.

A glass fell and shattered on the floor, making my heart skip a beat. My legs gave way, and I collapsed to the ground, my hand landing on the shards.

My old ailment flared up again.

Pain spread across my palm, and in my daze, I saw the young man who had once saved me, disappearing forever, leaving me powerless to watch his retreating figure.

My heart trembled violently as I turned my gaze to the door, my voice hoarse, "You liar. You promised you'd come back. You promised you'd stay with me."

The dog seemed to sense my emotions and paced around me.

I reached out to pet it, "Snuffy, do you still think of him?"

2.

The next day, I woke up in my room, my hand bandaged, though I remembered falling asleep on the sofa.

The answer was obvious.

I walked out of the room to find the living room empty, with the painkiller.

I took one; its taste was gross to me. I didn't like this medicine, and Rick knew that.

There was another choice.

"You're awake."

I lifted my gaze and beheld a man standing in the doorway. Backlit by the sun, his facial features were sharply delineated, the golden sunlight tracing the contours of his silhouette. His deep-set, narrow eyes were brimming with laughter.

His eyes were truly beautiful.

"Where did you go?" After taking the pill, the taste made me feel a bit nauseous.

"Sorry, Zoe. After dealing with work last night, I got a notification about a high school reunion. My phone was dead, and I forgot to tell you. I hadn't seen them in so long, so I stayed out late."

Rick walked in with a plate of egg and bacon, sitting beside me.

"I bought you some remedies this morning and made this breakfast for you."

"Egg and bacon?" My heart sank as I turned to him, "Do you really love me?"

"Of course."

"Who do you love?"

"I love you."

"Who am I?"

"Zoe Hewitt, I love you." He smiled, patting my head, his eyes clear and bright.

Looking into those eyes, I smiled too, squeezing my hand. This was good enough.

Breaking up was out of the question; I had pursued Rick for five years and finally got him.

3.

I chased after Rick for three years, including the two years we were together, always the one making the effort.

I could tell from a single expression if he was unhappy or impatient.

On the first day of university, Rick became a sensation as the "financial genius, " along with his finely chiseled face.

Back then, he was imbued with the vibrant vitality of youth. His features were delicate and refined, boasting a well - defined, high - bridged nose, and eyebrows that gracefully arched towards his temples. However, what drew the most acclaim were his eyes, as bright as twinkling stars and as gentle as polished jade.

However, I later learned that was just a facade. His inherent malice fully emerged after Katie Stanley left.

Unfortunately, I found this out later.

He would consistently stand on the sidelines, watching as the girls who pursued him got their hearts broken.

He neither rejected them outright nor ever recognized any of them as his girlfriend. People said Rick had no sincerity, just playing around without wanting responsibility.

Many girls gave up when they saw no hope.

Only I, his most devoted admirer, persisted. For years, I stayed by his side, unwavering.

To attend classes with him, I gritted my teeth and took a minor in finance, enduring the incomprehensible lectures.

If he had a stomachache in the middle of the night, a single word from him would have me delivering medicine.

Even on rainy days, when he and his girlfriend were stuck in the lecture hall, I would sprint to bring him an umbrella.

Everyone around him knew I was his most devoted admirer.

With just one word from him, I would do anything for Rick.

People laughed at how the journalism department's beauty, Zoe, was head over heels for the financial genius Rick, willing to do anything for him.

They said I had no shame, called me a gold digger, and mocked me for dreaming beyond my reach.

4.

What made me famous was Rick's 22nd birthday.

To prepare a birthday gift for him, I stayed up several nights learning how to make a birthday cake.

On his birthday, I finally made a cartoon cake resembling him.

"Come by 8 PM for my birthday party."

Rick hung up the phone after saying this, leaving me no room to refuse.

I had intended to bring it to his classroom during the day. I didn't plan on attending his party since my headache was excruciating.

I sighed, deciding to go.

That evening, I dragged myself, feverish, to the address he gave me, bringing the birthday gift

and the guitar I had prepared for years.

The bar's dazzling lights made it hard for me to keep my eyes open, and my feverish head was in a fog.

When I finally found his room and knocked, a crowd of people turned to look at me, murmurs filling the air.

"As expected of Rick, one call and the campus beauty comes running."

"So she's Rick's most devoted admirer?"

But I didn't pay any attention to their words.

With my head spinning, I walked up to Rick, placing the cake on the table. "This cake is for you."

In the dim light, he smiled nonchalantly, his lashes lowered, hiding his expression.

"This cake is so ugly, I can't eat it."

His cold voice uttered words as cruel as a demon's.