Chapter 504 Don't Be Mad at Me
I spotted Ryan leaning against the balcony wall, puffing on a cigarette.
He had one leg propped up, his back against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips, and his head tilted slightly as he gazed at the stars.
My plants were right next to him.
I really wanted to check on them; I hadn't seen them in over ten days and was dying to know if they were okay.
Without me, Ryan still had Grace, but my plants had to fend for themselves.
I stopped in my tracks, my mind racing.
Should I just head to bed or go over and talk to him to clear things up?
Was this really the end for us?
The image of that little dress swaying in the wind flashed before my eyes again, and I couldn't help but laugh at myself.
What was there to look forward to, Amelia? Stop degrading yourself.
When you said "break up," you meant it. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been like you, Amelia. I reminded myself.
Hearing my own voice in my head, I didn't hesitate anymore. I turned towards the bedroom, walked in, closed the door, and lay down.
After a while, the bedroom door opened, and Ryan climbed into bed gently. His warm body pressed against mine. "Baby, I missed you."
Listening to his words, I felt nothing but exhaustion.
Ryan kissed my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin.
But I didn't dare move, because if I did, he would kiss me, and then he would be all over me.
What I used to love the most now made me unwilling to even face it.
Ryan waited a while longer, seeing no reaction from me, sighed softly, got out of bed, and left, never coming back in.
I thought that with my mind in such chaos, I would surely have some messy dreams.
But to my surprise, I slept soundly through the night and felt quite refreshed when I woke up the next day.
It was already bright outside, and it seemed to have rained during the night, with small droplets hanging on the glass outside.
I got up, took a shower, changed into a comfortable tracksuit, and left the bedroom.
Ryan was not there. His jacket was on the back of the sofa, and a full ashtray was on the balcony railing.
In the years we were together, he almost never smoked at home. Maybe he did, but never in front of me.
Because he had said that a decent man would never make the girl he loved feel uneasy or uncomfortable in any way. Since I hated the smell of smoke, he would never smoke in front of me.
In this regard, he was quite a gentleman.
But I didn't expect him to leave without a word.
This was good too; there was no need to face each other, which saved a lot of trouble and pressure while avoiding disputes with someone I had once loved deeply.
Maybe Ryan hadn't cared about my thoughts and feelings at all, because I had long since become a joke in his and Grace's intimate interactions.
I stretched my body, took out the suitcase I had brought when we first moved in from the top of the closet, packed the few remaining items, and dragged it to the door.
I had lived here for so many years, leaving traces of my presence in almost every corner, with tons of stuff. Luckily, I had already taken most of it away before, otherwise, I might have needed to call a moving company today.As I was bending down to change my shoes, the door swung open. Ryan stood there, holding a big bouquet of lilies with dewdrops in his left hand and several shopping bags in his right, their contents a mystery.
In five years, it was the first time he got up earlier than me, the first time he brought me flowers, and the first time he carried shopping bags.
When I loved him deeply, he never did anything for me. Even a small goodbye kiss would make him extremely impatient.
Now that I no longer wanted to love him, no longer wanted him, he was willing to do anything.
People are really strange.
Seeing the suitcase behind me, Ryan's expression changed instantly—he looked shocked, puzzled, but mostly angry.
He asked, "Amelia, what are you doing?"
I shrugged and pointed to the suitcase. "Isn't it obvious? I only have these things left to move. I'm taking them all today, and I won't be coming back. From now on, wherever you go, whoever you're with, I won't care anymore. You're free. Also, I've paid the rent for this quarter. If you can get a refund, that would be great. But if not, I won't blame you."
Ryan asked, "What do you mean, Amelia?"
I smiled. "I mean, Ryan, we're breaking up."
In the past, I would never have said the word "breakup" even if I died. But when I said it, I found it wasn't as unbearable as I had imagined, but rather felt a great sense of relief.
I finally said it!
I didn't let myself down.
Ryan stared at me in disbelief, probably not believing that the me who once saw him as everything and put him first in everything could say "breakup" so lightly.
There was a hint of anger in his eyes.
He had always been aloof, strong, and self-centered, and he couldn't tolerate any disobedience from me.
Hearing "breakup" from me was clearly damaging Ryan's dignity. How could he accept it?
"What are you making a fuss about? Fine, even if it was my fault that day, and I shouldn't have left halfway, but wasn't it because Grace had an accident? Do you have to be so petty? You left home without a word for over ten days, and I haven't even questioned you, yet you're the one making a fuss." Ryan's voice unconsciously raised.
Never had I been more aware than at this moment that I had been blind and foolish for five years.
Ryan was still the same person, looking the same as I knew, but for some reason, he felt like a stranger to me.
What gave him the courage to blame me after doing so many wrong things?
I really wanted to slap myself. Five years, what a waste.
"Ryan, you're right. I am that narrow-minded and petty. I don't deserve you. So, I'm leaving you to find someone more suitable for you." With that, I finished tying my shoelaces, grabbed my suitcase, and was about to leave.
However, Ryan pressed the flowers and shopping bags on the suitcase, his tone softening. "I'm sorry, Amelia. I spoke too harshly. Don't be mad at me. If it's about discussing marriage, I apologize. Let's sit down and find a good day. I'll have my parents meet your parents again. This time, I'll behave well. Put your suitcase back, and let's talk it over."
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