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Long before Ryan came back, I'd packed my bags and walked out of that apartment—the one I'd lived in for seven years—the one that always smelled like orchids.
I figured Ryan would be happy with how things turned out.
The love of his life was back, and the woman who'd been in his way had conveniently removed herself.
But right before boarding, my phone blew up with calls.
I ignored them. Turned it off without hesitation.
The buzzing stopped soon enough.
Five hours later, when the plane landed, I turned my phone back on.
Dozens of missed calls—all from
I didn't call back. Just scrolled past, cold, and blocked his number.
I hadn't deleted his Instagram yet, so he'd sent several messages there too.
“Where are you? Your place is empty. Answer me.”
“We had the proposal today—why did you disappear?”
“And that thing you sent? If you keep acting like this, the proposal's off!”
I stared for a moment, then replied, “Okay, call it off then.”
“Ryan, we're done. Don't contact me again.”
It felt like closing a book—three years of secret crushing on him, seven years of being with him. Over.
Then I blocked him everywhere—his number, his Instagram, even his friends. Even Annie.
I didn't want to dwell on the past—if I was ending it, I was ending it clean.
I thought that was it.
Ryan was always cold but proud. This would've stomped on his ego—he'd leave me alone.
But a few days later, an old coworker reached out, asking what happened between Ryan and me.
“You have no idea—he's been going crazy looking for you. Shows up at the office every day, asking everyone if they know where you are.”
“He looks terrible—so tired. You two were so in love...what went wrong?”
Over the phone, she dramatically described the scene, then eagerly asked for details.
After a moment of silence, I said flatly, “Because I fell out of love.”
Suddenly, there was a loud crash on the other end—like she'd dropped the phone. She screamed
Then a familiar voice came on the line, loud and angry, distorted, “Fell out of love? Vivian, how dare you do this to me?”
“Do you know how long I waited for you at the proposal? Everyone was there, but you never showed!”
“You think you can just walk away with a simple ‘I don't love you anymore'—that's it? What was all this time for?”
I almost laughed.
Yeah, I wanted to ask too. If you loved your Sue's Orchid Crown so much—if she was the one you couldn't stop thinking about—what was we for?
I remember back then, whenever he drank too much, his friends always called me to pick him up.
He'd hold me tight and murmur, “Viv.”
Over and over. Soft, like he was scared to let go—nothing like his usual self.
I used to think that meant he loved me deeply, and I'd answer him just as softly.
His friends would laugh and tease us.
“See, Vivian? Ryan's crazy about you.”
But later I found out—that “Viv” wasn't for Vivian.
And the person they said he loved? It was never me.
The sweetness I felt then only made the humiliation cut deeper when I learned the truth.
All that love and devotion, after seven years, became a sharp blade stabbing right through my heart.
Seven years. I'd been a joke to them, for seven years.
And now he had the nerve to ask what our time together meant.
I nearly laughed out loud and said coldly, “It means you got exactly what was coming to you. And I got stuck with bad luck.”
