Chapter 1

Five years after I left Giovanni, everyone in our class received his and Michelle's engagement invitation—everyone except me.

The hotel where he was getting engaged was the same place where I worked as a server.

A classmate recognized me and shouted loudly, "Gerard, you dumped Giovanni just to work as a server here?"

All eyes turned toward me. Giovanni let go of his fiancée's hand and strode toward me.

He stared at me, his voice dripping with mockery. "Didn't you say back then that staying with a sickly guy like me had no future? Do you regret it now?"

I gripped my serving tray tighter and forced a smile. "Yes, I regret it."

Giovanni looked me up and down with a sneer. "Do you think you're worthy of me now?"

I didn't argue. I just turned away, clutching my chest.

I had no time to get tangled up in the past with him, arguing about who was right or wrong.

After all, my artificial heart wouldn't make it past this winter.

I made an excuse about needing to get back to work and turned to leave.

Giovanni quickly stepped forward, blocking my path.

"Gerard, didn't you say it yourself? That you'd definitely be at my wedding."

I lowered my gaze, bitterness welling up inside.

That was because back then, I thought I would be the one marrying Giovanni.

After we broke up, I avoided him at all costs. I never expected to run into him again, especially not at his engagement party.

Whispers erupted around us.

"Is that really Giovanni's ex-girlfriend? I heard she took his family's financial support to finish school, then turned around and dumped him!"

A classmate who knew our history cursed. "She's a total asshole. Giovanni's heart condition was serious back then—he needed a transplant. She was afraid of being dragged down, so she just broke up with him."

"No wonder she ended up like this. She deserves it. She might as well be dead."

Those insults and curses fell into my ears, word for word.

A dull ache spread through my chest, making it hard to breathe.

When I looked up, I saw Michelle linking arms intimately with Giovanni. "Giovanni, don't be so petty. We're all old classmates."

She turned to me, feigning magnanimity. "Gerard, just sit down and have a few drinks with us. Let's celebrate."

"No need. I still have work to do."

I politely declined.

I picked up my tray, wanting nothing more than to escape this suffocating place.

But the moment I turned around, I heard Giovanni call out in a deep voice, "Manager Anderson."

My supervisor came running over, bowing and scraping before Giovanni. "Mr. Giovanni, what can I do for you?"

Giovanni didn't even look at him. He kept his eyes fixed on me as he spoke slowly and deliberately.

"This server will exclusively serve us tonight. Triple her wages. If she's absent or if I'm dissatisfied, dock all her pay."

Manager Anderson didn't even ask if I was willing. He agreed immediately.

I felt trapped by invisible ropes, unable to move.

Without my wages, I wouldn't be able to afford next month's medication.

I had no choice but to follow orders, trailing behind Giovanni and Michelle as they made their rounds, table by table.

Whatever Giovanni handed me, I had to drink.

My stomach churned, and my chest tightened with wave after wave of dull pain.

Someone asked curiously, "Who's this?"

Giovanni wrapped his arm around Michelle's waist and glanced back at me. "Just a short-sighted ex-girlfriend."

The table erupted in laughter. I clenched my fists, feeling desolate.

Giovanni gestured for me to stand beside Michelle and ordered, "Michelle likes salmon. Cut it for her."

Then, as if remembering something, he leaned closer to me. In a voice only the two of us could hear, laced with alcohol and mockery, he said, "Gerard, if you hadn't abandoned me back then, you'd be the one sitting here now. Too bad you don't have that fate."

I numbly cut the salmon and placed it on Michelle's plate.

She ate delicately, taking small bites, then suddenly acted coquettish. "Giovanni, I want shrimp."

Giovanni paused. A memory surged to the front of my mind.

I used to playfully feed him shrimp. He'd laugh and dodge. "You eat it. I'm allergic. If I even touch shrimp, my hands get itchy."

So he never peeled a single shrimp for me.

Yet now, under everyone's watchful eyes, Giovanni skillfully peeled shrimp and gently placed them in Michelle's bowl.

Michelle smiled sweetly. "Giovanni's always like this. Every time we eat shrimp, he insists on peeling them for me himself. He says he doesn't trust anyone else to do it."

Giovanni said nothing. He just picked up another shrimp, continued peeling it, and placed it on an empty plate.

Antoine, who used to receive financial aid like me, raised his glass with his now-protruding belly and fawned over Giovanni. "Mr. Giovanni is truly devoted to Miss Michelle! Unlike some people—both of them were poor students, but Miss Michelle is kind and excellent, grateful and loyal, and ultimately a perfect match for Giovanni."

"But some people? They were practically ready to sell themselves when accepting aid, but the moment they saw Giovanni's health was poor, they turned cold and heartless. Truly despicable character."

Every word felt like a needle stabbing into me.

The long hours of work, combined with the alcohol I'd just consumed, made my face turn pale. My body trembled, and my vision started to darken. I had to lean on the table to stay upright.

Giovanni seemed to notice. He looked up, frowning at me, as if he wanted to say something.

But Michelle's friend glanced at me with contempt. "Giovanni, some people are just naturally dramatic. They pretend to be pitiful to win sympathy. Otherwise, how could they abandon a seriously ill boyfriend?"