Seven years of love couldn’t compete with a single sweet sentence from Melanie. 

My soul felt drained from my body. Exhausted, I collapsed into bed and fell into a deep sleep. 

When I woke up the next morning, as expected, Steven still wasn’t home. 

My stomach growled, so I opened my phone and searched for a restaurant I’d always wanted to try. If my heart couldn’t be full, at least my stomach could be. 

… 

After driving to the restaurant, I walked in and froze. 

There they were—Steven and Melanie—leaning close to each other, like a pair of love-struck teenagers. 

Steven noticed me first, his expression souring with irritation. 

“Anya, are you stalking me now?” His voice was sharp, cutting. “How pathetic can you get?” 

I sighed, weary beyond words. It felt like a cruel joke that I had to witness this scene. 

“No, I’m just here to eat,” I replied. 

This restaurant was a famous romantic hotspot I had mentioned to Steven countless times, hoping he would take me there. 

Each time, he’d brush me off, saying, “I don’t like that kind of food. If you want to go, go by yourself.” 

Now here he was, sitting across from Melanie and treating her to a lavish couple’s set menu. Every detail screamed romance—from the paired utensils to the heart-shaped steaks. 

Melanie giggled and leaned toward him. “Steve, this place is amazing. I love it!” 

Steven’s face lit up as he replied, “If you like it, I’ll bring you here again.” 

His words pierced my heart like a knife.