Chapter 6
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The cold wind of late autumn swept by, stirring up fallen leaves on the ground, also making his thin clothes flutter loudly. He knelt before me, the once always clean and presentable Alex, whose shirt cuffs were always impeccable, now looked like a piece of garbage carelessly discarded on a street corner.
The high wall built of anger and hatred in my heart seemed to develop a barely visible crack at this moment. After the thrill of revenge ebbed away, only vast desolation remained.
"Mia, don't believe him." Emma had come down at some point, standing beside me, her voice not loud, but like a reassuring anchor.
I looked at Alex's face, streaked with tears that seemed so real, so desperate. I had once loved this face, was familiar with every subtle expression of his.
Could I really remain completely unmoved?
"Mia, I know I hurt you, I deserve to die," seeing that I didn't immediately turn away, he grabbed at this lifeline and spoke urgently, "but listen to my explanation... I'm a victim too. It was Vincent, he threatened me, said if I didn't get together with him, he would destroy my career, destroy everything! I was forced, Mia, I've always loved you..."
Such familiar rhetoric. Again claiming to be forced, again playing the victim.
Although my reason was screaming at me to leave, some almost masochistic thought seized me. I wanted to know what elaborate lies he could still weave at this point.
"Let's go upstairs to talk," I heard myself say coldly.
Emma frowned, but didn't say anything more, just followed closely by my side. A flash of barely perceptible ecstasy passed through Alex's eyes as he struggled to get up from the ground and staggered after us.
The studio was as warm as spring, keeping the cold of the outside world at bay.
Alex stood awkwardly on the expensive handcrafted carpet, as if he were standing not on wool but on knives. I didn't pour him water or ask him to sit down, but instead, together with Emma, like two judges, we coldly stared at him.
"Vincent... he's a devil," Alex continued his performance, his voice trembling as if trapped in terrible memories. "He used his authority to coerce me, saying that if I didn't listen to him, he would not only make it impossible for me to stay at the company but would also use his connections to ensure I couldn't find work anywhere in the financial sector. He said he had taken a liking to me, that I was fortunate beyond measure..."
As he spoke, he took out his phone and showed me some chat records between him and Vincent.
Those dialogues were carefully selected and edited, making it appear as if Vincent was indeed giving him orders in an authoritative tone, while he seemed passive and helpless.
"You see, Mia, I've always wanted to escape, but I have no way out. My family is ordinary, and this job is too important for me—I can't lose it." He looked up, tears in his eyes, with that expression I once found impossible to resist, "Mia, I know I've let you down, but we had three years together... Could you help me? I'm truly desperate now..."
He stepped forward, seemingly wanting to grab my hand, but Emma blocked him with a cold face.
"As long as you're willing to get back together with me, as long as we're still together, I'll have a legitimate reason to refuse Vincent... Mia, please give me one more chance, okay?" he said crying.
Get back together?
This word was like a needle, piercing through the bubble of his emotional performance. Looking at him, I suddenly felt utterly absurd. He probably truly believed that I was still the same as before, that with just a few tears and some soft words, I would forgive and forget, even foolishly sacrifice my future to save this worthless person.
Just as I was about to speak up and expose his ridiculous fantasy, Emma's phone suddenly made a sound.
It was a message notification.
Emma glanced at the screen, then raised her eyebrows, giving Alex a meaningful look. It was from Diane. With an audio clip attached.
"Alex," Emma's voice was cold as ice, "you just said you've always wanted to escape from Vincent, right?"
Alex didn't understand why she asked, but still nodded firmly: "Yes, I dream about it all the time!"
"Good." Emma didn't look at him again, but instead directly pressed the play button on the audio clip, and turned the phone volume up to maximum.
In the studio, the familiar voices of two men suddenly rang out. It was a conversation between Alex and Vincent, with a somewhat noisy background, seemingly from yesterday.
Vincent's voice carried a hint of impatience: "Did you go find Mia?"
Alex's voice immediately responded, with a tone I had never heard before - fawning and sinister: "Yes, I did as you said. As long as she softens up, we have a chance to turn things around. She's so stupid, I could easily fool her before just by sweet-talking, and this time will surely be the same."
I felt ice-cold all over my body.
The recording continued.
"When the time comes, I'll get her to persuade that crazy woman Diane to drop the charges. As long as she doesn't sue you for embezzlement, we'll have a chance," Alex's voice was full of calculation.
Vincent seemed to grunt with satisfaction: "Good. Remember what you're supposed to say, push all the responsibility onto me, just say I forced you to do it. After everything is settled, I'll give you some money, and you should quickly leave this city."
The audio playback ended.
The entire studio fell into a deathly silence. The air seemed to have solidified, every speck of dust filled with the awkwardness and ugliness that follows when lies are exposed.
I looked at Alex, his face changing in one second from a deathly pale to a flushed red of utter shame. Those eyes that were tender and affectionate just moments ago now contained only terror and complete panic.
I walked slowly, step by step, until I stood before him.
My gaze was calm without a ripple, having moved from shock to anger, and now, only an icy coldness that saw through everything remained. It was like looking at a pile of inorganic matter without any signs of life.
"Alex," I began, my voice equally calm, "Three years ago, I thought I had fallen in love with a handsome, ambitious, and kind person."
"Two months ago, at my wedding, I discovered I had fallen in love with a liar."
"And today, just now, I finally understand," I paused slightly, looking at his trembling lips, and said word by word, "you don't even qualify as a con artist. You're just garbage without principles, without dignity, willing to sell even yourself."
I reached out my hand, not to hit him, but to open the studio door for him.
"Leave." My voice carried no emotion, "From now on, don't appear before me in any form. Between us, it ends here."
"Mia... it's not... listen to my expl..." he seemed to want to make one last struggle.
"Hello, 911? This is the XX Building, 17th floor. There's a man who has illegally entered and is harassing us. Please come and handle this." Emma had already picked up her phone and calmly reported to the police.
Hearing the words "police report," the last bit of color drained from Alex's face. He looked at us in terror, as if seeing two female ghosts, then scrambled out of the studio, disappearing into the stairwell.
The door was gently closed in front of me by Emma.
It blocked out the final pathetic sight of that man, and completely sealed off my past.
I took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, as if purging the last bit of polluted air related to him from my lungs.
I turned around and gave Emma a genuine, relaxed smile.
"I've finally," I said, "let go completely."
That night, Vincent's name exploded across social media once again.
A blurry cellphone video was shared frantically. In the video, the once-elegant Vincent was completely drunk at the bar of an upscale club, clutching a bottle, screaming with a contorted face, hurling abusive language and obscenities at Diane and Alex that were too offensive to repeat, until security forcibly removed him.
He had completely fallen apart.
