Chapter 2

After sending the guests away, I went back to my mom's house. Sean and I had met each other's parents long ago, and we had already been living together.

My mom and I rode in the car together on the way back. The air in the car was suffocatingly heavy. It wasn't until we walked through the front door that my mom finally spoke.

"Chloe, I know how much you love Sean. But I think... you should just let it go."

My mom sighed, the disappointment thick in her voice.

I had always been fiercely independent. Growing up, I had never done anything to let my mother down—except falling in love with Sean.

My mom believed in letting me make my own choices and rarely meddled in my life.

So over the past few years, even though she saw everything clearly, she had never said a single bad word about Sean in front of me.

"Mom..."

I looked at her, my nose stinging as tears spilled over once more.

My mom pulled me into a tight hug, gently patting my back. "All these years, I never interfered in your relationship. I thought that once you got hurt enough, you'd turn around. I never expected you to hold on for this long."

"Sweetheart, take your mom's advice. If it's not working, just let him go."

After lying in my mother's arms for a while, I went up to my old bedroom.

I checked my phone. Two hours had passed, and Sean hadn't sent a single text. People aren't made of stone; seven years of love isn't something you can just throw away in an instant.

Just then, an Instagram notification popped up on my screen.

It was a new post from Joy.

I tapped on it, and a picture from the hospital filled the screen.

In the photo, Sean was holding Joy's slender wrist, which was wrapped in a thin layer of gauze.

Her caption read: "It's so wonderful to have an attending doctor like this. In my darkest, most painful moments, no matter where he is, he rushes to my side immediately. His presence is the only warmth left for me in this world."

I let out a bitter scoff. Zooming in on the photo, I noticed Sean's ring finger was completely bare.

On our fifth anniversary, I had custom-designed a pair of promise rings for us. We had been madly in love back then. Sean had taken my hand, slipped the ring onto my finger, kissed my fingertips, and sworn: "I will never betray you, Chloe. Until the day we exchange wedding bands, this ring will never leave my finger."

And now?

Just to go see Joy, he had slipped it off without a second thought.

I couldn't help but wonder: was I the only one who ever took our vows seriously?

Maybe because I was back in the familiar comfort of my childhood home, wrapped in a sense of safety, my tears flowed endlessly. Looking back on our seven years together, what had any of it really meant?

After crying for who knows how long, I pulled myself up from the floor, sat down at my desk, and pulled out a sticky note just like I always did.

I wrote down the date and the location, and then added: "Today was our engagement party. Joy called, and Sean left me at the ceremony for her."

This was the forty-seventh note, and it would be the last.

Looking at the jar full of origami cranes, an urge suddenly struck me to post on Instagram too.

I snapped a picture of the jar and uploaded it.

The caption: "Seven times seven is forty-nine. It's finally time for us to end."

I had mentioned this to Sean once. I told him I had a big jar filled with paper cranes, and I warned him that if he filled it with enough disappointment, I would leave him for good.

Sean had been busy reviewing medical charts back then. He had merely nodded in distraction.

Feeling foolish, I hadn't said another word about it.

From the first crane three years ago to the forty-seventh today, Sean had abandoned me forty-seven times in just three short years.

There was no denying I loved Sean. And surely he had feelings for me too, or I wouldn't have stayed long enough to endure forty-seven humiliations.

I had foolishly thought that getting engaged would fix everything. I never imagined he would hand me such a cruel surprise on the day of our engagement.

While lost in thought, Sean's name flashed across my phone screen.

My heart skipped a beat.

I assumed he had seen my Instagram post. He was probably calling to apologize, just like he always did. This time, I told myself, I couldn't forgive him so easily. I had to teach him a lesson. I let the phone ring for a few seconds before finally answering.

"Chloe," Sean's voice came through the receiver, "those paper cranes... can you give them to me?"