Chapter 3

When Orion came back with breakfast, I was biting my lip hard to keep from crying out loud.

He gently stroked my forehead, speaking tenderly. I almost impulsively wanted to grab his hand and demand: "You went to see her last night, didn't you?"

But I held back. Not because of rationality, but because of fear.

I was terrified that once I spoke those words, everything from these three years would truly shatter. Even knowing it was all fake, I still wanted to hold onto this false tenderness just a little longer.

"The doctor says you're recovering well. You can be discharged this afternoon."

I nodded, my voice hoarse: "Okay."

He looked at me with concern: "Your voice is hoarse? Do you have a fever again?"

Looking at the "worry" in his eyes, I could no longer tell if it was genuine or just another performance.

When I was discharged, I said I wanted to go to the office to handle some work. Orion hesitated for a moment but eventually agreed: "Come home early then. I'll come see you tonight."

But I really just wanted to escape from him, to be alone and quietly process this cruel truth.

At 2 PM, just as I walked out of the company building, I saw her.

I recognized that face—this morning when I was going through Orion's messages, I'd seen her profile picture and several selfies she'd sent him. She had that typical 22-year-old influencer look, delicate like a porcelain doll.

Harper was sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window of the café across the street, wearing a pale yellow dress, her hair perfectly curled, touching up her lipstick while looking at her phone. She'd chosen a very conspicuous spot—anyone coming out of the company would notice her immediately. This was clearly intentional.

The moment she saw me, she immediately put down her phone, flashed a victor's smile, and waved at me.

"Riley, let's have a talk." Her voice was sweet, but her eyes were full of provocation.

It wasn't surprising she knew my name—Orion's social media was full of my photos, and he'd obviously told her which company I worked for. Clearly, she'd come here specifically to corner me.

I walked toward her, feeling strangely calm inside. Because I already knew what she was going to say.

The café was playing soft jazz music. Harper ordered a latte while I didn't order anything. She picked up her cup and sipped slowly, as if savoring this moment.

"You know Orion doesn't love you anymore, right?" She cut straight to the chase, her eyes sparkling with the smugness typical of young girls. "He told me you're only together because the fans like this couple persona. He's wanted to break up for ages."

Looking at her young face, I suddenly felt sorry for her too.

"Still this naive at 22?" I laughed coldly. "You think he loves you?"

Harper's expression froze momentarily, but she quickly recovered: "Of course he does! Look at our messages—he said I'm younger and prettier than you, that you've gotten old and increasingly difficult, that—"

"That I'm just a prop in his streaming empire?" I interrupted her. "That I'm sickly and annoying? That his acting is so good that all the fans are fooled?"

Harper's face went pale instantly, and the hand holding her coffee cup began to tremble.

I continued: "How was your 4 AM meetup at the café's back door last night? Did you two have fun?"

"You... how did you..." she stammered.

"How do I know?" I leaned back in my chair, feeling an odd sense of relief. "Because I saw his phone. I've known the truth for a while now."

Panic flashed in Harper's eyes, but she quickly regained her earlier arrogance: "So what? He chose me! He said he wants to break up with you and go public with our relationship!"

"Then you'd better be careful." I looked at her like I was looking at my past naive self. "He just thinks you're young and easy to manipulate. When you reach my age, he'll find someone even younger. You're nothing but a replacement right now."

"You're lying!" Harper stood up excitedly. "He loves me! Not like the fake way he loved you!"

"Fake?" I laughed. "Little girl, you're still too young. You think what he had with me was fake, but with you it's real? He's been performing for cameras for three years—what's a few months of performing for you?"

Harper's face turned red, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Just then, the café door was pushed open.

Orion rushed in, clearly having been urgently contacted by Harper. Seeing us together, a flash of panic crossed his face. He was wearing a white T-shirt today, his hair still slightly damp—he must have just finished filming some content before rushing over.

"Harper, what are you doing here?" He walked to our table, his eyes darting between Harper and me.

Seeing Orion, Harper's tears immediately spilled over: "She's bullying me! She said you don't love me, that I'm just a replacement!"

Orion looked at me, his eyes holding a coldness I'd never seen before: "Riley, what are you talking about? Harper is just my friend."

"Friend?" I almost laughed out loud. "A friend who spent the night at the seaside villa last night?"

Orion's expression changed instantly. He opened his mouth as if wanting to say something, but nothing came out.

"Still going to keep acting?" I stood up. "I saw all your messages. I've known the truth for three days."

The air seemed to freeze. Harper stared blankly at Orion, while Orion looked like someone had grabbed him by the throat—he couldn't say a word.

"See," I said to Harper, "this is his true face. When he's exposed, he doesn't even have an explanation."

Harper suddenly went crazy, grabbing her coffee cup: "I don't believe it! You're just jealous! Jealous that I'm young and beautiful!"

She raised the cup to splash me with it. Orion instinctively reached out to stop her, but it was too late. The scalding coffee splashed onto my white shirt, leaving dark brown stains.

I looked down at my coffee-stained clothes and suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of liberation.

"Let's break up." I raised my head and looked at Orion calmly.

Harper was sobbing beside us while Orion stood in the middle, his face showing an expression I'd never seen before—not heartbreak, not anger, but panic about this incident potentially affecting his image.

He was stunned for a few seconds, glanced at the crying Harper, then at me, and finally said flatly: "Okay."

Just like that. No attempt to save us, no explanations, not even an apology. Just one word: "Okay."

I turned and walked toward the door. Behind me, I heard Harper's trembling voice: "Orion, can we go public now?"

I didn't look back. I pushed open the café door and walked into the blinding afternoon sunlight.

The streets were bustling with traffic and pedestrians. The world continued to operate normally, as if nothing had happened. I sat down on a bench at the subway station and took out my phone, starting to delete our photos together.

Three years' worth of pictures took only ten minutes to delete.

My phone rang—it was a call from my best friend Linda. I watched the screen flashing but eventually hung up. I didn't want to talk to anyone right now, didn't want to explain, didn't want to hear words of comfort.

I just wanted to be alone and quietly process this ending.

The subway arrived. I got on and sat in a corner, watching the scenery flying past outside the window. A girl was video-chatting with her boyfriend, her face full of sweet smiles.

I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch anymore.

Back home, I stood in front of the mirror, looking at my white shirt stained with coffee. For the first time in three years, I looked at myself this carefully. A 28-year-old woman with fine lines around her eyes, a body not as firm as a 22-year-old's.

No wonder he got tired of me.

But suddenly, I thought of a question: If he never loved me, then what was this pain I was feeling now?

I took off the shirt and threw it in the trash. Starting tomorrow, I was going to completely forget about Orion.

Just then, my phone dinged.

I picked it up and saw a message from the company's HR department:

[Dear colleague, the company's annual health checkup is scheduled for next week. Please visit the designated hospital during work hours to complete your examination. Care for your health, care for yourself.]

I stared at this message and suddenly laughed.

Yes, care for myself. It was time to give both my body and soul a comprehensive checkup.

What I didn't know was that this decision would completely change my life...