Cole Sterling was known throughout the city as a notorious playboy. He treated every single one of his girlfriends exceptionally well. Whatever they wanted, he gave them. Except marriage. Everyone knew that he had never gotten over his first love. That was why he could never take that final step with any other girl. By the fifth month of our relationship, my parents were pressuring me heavily to settle down. I had no choice but to say goodbye. "I heard your first love is moving back. Congratulations." He just smiled. "Yeah." That very night, his friends threw him a "Welcome Back to the Bachelor Life" party. It was a massive, loud affair. Someone inevitably brought me up: "Hey Cole, I think I just saw Maya. She was with some guy, pretty good-looking too." As soon as the words left his mouth, the entire room started gossiping, the noise level rising. But Cole suddenly snapped. He crushed his cigarette into the ashtray and sneered: "She was the one who said she wanted to be together, and she's the one who asked for the breakup. "Does she really think she gets to have it both ways?" 01 When Cole and I first got together, his friends actually placed bets on us. The stakes were high. They were betting on whether our relationship would last longer than a month. His family was incredibly wealthy and his reputation preceded him. When I first met him, my roommate warned me: "The Sterlings aren't just rich, they're old money. They aren't people you want to mess with." "But Cole is a bit different. I hear he's actually really easy to date. He never loses his temper with girls, and he always ends things amicably with every ex." She wasn't exaggerating. But between us, it wasn't really a matter of who chased who. I was in my second year of grad school, working on a research project for my advisor. I desperately needed a specific, out-of-print English textbook, and it was impossible to find. I posted on countless academic forums, but it was like shouting into the void. Just as I was about to give up, someone finally replied. The tone was a mix of playful arrogance and genuine helpfulness— [My grandfather actually has a copy of that in his library. Contact me if you still need it. Consider it my good deed for the day.] I messaged him immediately. Afterward, to thank him, we hung out a couple of times. We got along surprisingly well. The last time we saw each other, he stood under a streetlamp, looking impossibly handsome. He raised an eyebrow, as if a thought had just occurred to him, and asked: "Are we going to see each other again?" Again. Would there be an again? Seasons change, years pass, would we actually cross paths again? The moonlight was cold, the evening was perfect. Saying "no" felt like it would ruin the moment. Guided by some inexplicable impulse, I smiled, refusing to be outdone, and asked: "I heard you're really easy to date. Is that true?" He looked at me, a smile breaking across his face: "Why don't you try and find out?" When you're young and haven't experienced much of the world, meeting someone like him—confident, effortless, and undeniably powerful—makes you instinctively want to get closer. Besides, I had actually seen him long before that. It was right after I first moved to this city. I got my purse snatched at the bus station. I had absolutely nothing on me. After filing the police report, I walked out into a pouring rainstorm. I was miserable, broke, and crying hysterically. He drove past in his car, slowed down, and casually called out: "Where are you headed? I can give you a ride." Naturally, I was too scared to get into a stranger's car. He was patient, though. He didn't push, just gently tried to reassure me: "I'm not a bad guy. Trust me this once. Stop crying, okay?" I had always wanted to thank him for that day, but I never saw him again. In a city with millions of people, crossing paths even once, let alone actually speaking, is incredibly rare. Not long after that night under the streetlamp, we started dating. When my roommate found out, she was shocked for a few days before finally saying: "Dating a guy like him... it must feel pretty amazing, right? But I heard none of his relationships last longer than two weeks. "Just enjoy it while it lasts. Live in the moment." I said, Yeah, live in the moment. People are always naive at some point. Back then, I thought dating was simple: you just followed your heart. When I loved him, I didn't care about his past; I only wanted a future with him. But later, I realized that wasn't how it worked. Take that bet, for example. Everyone knew Cole's girlfriends never lasted more than two weeks. Why did those rich trust-fund kids bet on one month for me? It was a long time before I found out. I learned that the extra two weeks were because my face... slightly resembled his first love. 02 Most of the people who bet against us lost a lot of money. Because, to everyone's absolute shock, Cole and my relationship was fantastic. It was very different from his past flings. He was surprisingly proactive. He sought me out every single day, whether for lunch or dinner. There was a period where I was swamped with midterms, and he would just wait for me at the campus gates. Sometimes he'd wait for over an hour. I felt terrible and told him I'd take him out for a nice dinner to make up for it. He just tugged on my sleeve, suppressing a smile: "Your boyfriend wants to eat at the dining hall." He paused, then asked for my permission: "Is that okay?" Honestly, I knew what he was doing. He didn't want me to have to commute back and forth just to eat. I had heard rumors about him from his college days—he was incredibly snobby and absolutely refused to eat dining hall food. The young master of the Sterling family had the capital to look down on everything. We never broke up, and our relationship was so good it genuinely shocked people. By our third month together, he rented an apartment right near my campus. We spent more and more time together. He even set up a home theater in the apartment. Whenever we had free time, we'd curl up on the couch and watch movies. He didn't actually care for the movies I picked, but I loved them. He would patiently watch them with me from beginning to end. If we watched one I particularly loved, he would even take notes and write serious reviews for me to read. His grandfather was a renowned artist, and Cole had studied under him for a few years, so he was quite talented. During those days, he would occasionally sketch me. There was one sketch, in particular, that left a deep impression on me—a girl standing under an oak tree, clutching a stack of books to her chest, her features delicate, her smile bright and pure. But I always wanted to ask him: when we first met, I was so introverted and shy. When had I ever smiled that brightly? Then came a late night. It was our first time. I was struggling with my thesis research, and when he found out, he patiently guided me through the confusing parts. He tapped my waist lightly, his posture relaxed: "Make sense now?" I had a sudden "aha" moment and excitedly threw my arms around him in a tight hug. He looked at me, his eyes slowly darkening. Finally, he leaned forward, pressing me down. His lips moved slightly, feeling cold against mine. He was a little nervous, but maintaining his usual casual facade, gripping my hand tightly: "Maya." "Mhm." Halfway through, his voice low and raspy, he brought up that sketch. He said: "The first time we met, you were standing right there. I wanted to take a picture of you so badly." I laughed, kissing his neck, implying: "Did you say this to all your other girlfriends, too?" Whispering sweet nothings in the middle of passion, reminiscing about the moment we met. He clicked his tongue, pressing against me with a rogueish grin: "Go out and ask around. Which one of them ever made it to this step with me?" The ambiguity flowed silently between us. By the end, I couldn't laugh anymore. I was held tightly in his arms, crying softly. September in the city was beautiful, the autumn colors crisp and clear. Videos of tourists going to the mountains to pray for good fortune were all over social media. I begged him to go with me. He stayed up for several nights straight to finish his work projects, just to clear his schedule for a day to go with me. On the winding mountain paths, he held my hand tightly, walking up hundreds of stone steps, watching my every move, terrified I'd trip and fall. But later, after I left him, I realized... in a lifetime, who doesn't stumble and fall eventually? Back then, I really, truly loved him. 03 When did things start to change? I think it was when I saw that photo. It was our fifth month together. Cole had a massive social circle, and for his birthday, everyone was going all out to celebrate. They started planning it weeks in advance. I was on break at the time, so I helped out with the preparations. Because we spent so much time together, his friends never filtered their conversations around me. Slowly, I learned that Cole had actually put his heart on the line for a girl once. He had seriously proposed, carefully picked out a ring, and booked a venue for an engagement party. But in the end, because of a minor misunderstanding, the girl felt he didn't love her enough. They had a massive fight, both were exhausted, and she angrily left the country. He didn't try to stop her, and they broke up just like that. They had almost gotten married. After hearing the whole story, someone showed me a photo, totally unapologetic: "Honestly, you do look a bit like Chloe. If you didn't, we wouldn't have bet on you in the first place." In the photo, Chloe was smiling brightly. She looked exactly like the girl in the sketch, standing under the oak tree. When I first learned about the bet, I just thought they were bored rich kids. But looking at it now, I realized the only truly stupid person in this situation was me. Everyone knew that he had never gotten over his breakup with his first love. He still tracked her every move. Every year on her birthday, he would send someone across the world to deliver the most expensive, exquisite jewelry. If she ran into any trouble over there, someone would quickly relay the message to him. And no matter what, he would fly out there and quietly solve everything for her. He wouldn't let her know, he wouldn't contact her, but he also hadn't let her go. Only I was naive enough to believe that to him, I was actually someone special. Finally, someone joked: "Ever since Chloe left, Cole's been cycling through girlfriends constantly. We all guess he's just doing it to force her to come back." Everyone in the room laughed. Cole finished his phone call and walked back in. He sat next to me, gently squeezing my hand, and let out a low chuckle: "What are you guys talking about? You look so happy." I looked at him, an icy chill spreading through my heart, and said numbly: "They're talking about your first love." He froze, a rare moment of distraction crossing his face. In the end, he never even said her name. He just said dismissively: "What's there to talk about?" That was the first time I seriously considered breaking up with him. Honestly, I should have thanked his friends for not keeping me in the dark. It was precisely because they didn't care about my feelings that they told me all this, waking me up so I could see the reality of the situation. It made me realize that I was just a passing tourist in Cole's life. I was just a tool he was using to love someone else. 04 After that day, I faintly felt that something had shifted between me and Cole. But neither of us brought up Chloe. He showed absolutely no intention of explaining anything to me. He became even more generous with me. He took me to exclusive charity auctions, and if I so much as glanced at an item for more than a second, it would be delivered to me shortly after. I forget who told me. They said Cole treated every single ex-girlfriend exceptionally well. When they broke up, he was never stingy. Whatever they wanted, he gave them—whether it was cash or career connections. It almost felt like a transaction: money for services rendered. The night before his birthday, he had someone deliver two transfer deeds to me. A luxury condo, and a high-end sports car. When I received them, my fingertips went ice cold. My hands were shaking as I called him. He answered almost immediately. I pretended everything was normal and asked: "Giving me such a huge gift right before your birthday... don't you feel like you're losing out?" "Losing out on what? I like you. I want to treat you well," he replied, his tone slightly elevated, laced with a smile. It sounded like the sweet teasing of a couple deeply in love. I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to stay calm. "These things are too expensive. This is practically a dowry." He was silent for a long time. I pressed my lips together, tears falling silently. Finally, his voice paused slightly, before he said casually: "Maya. "Stop overthinking things. Go to sleep early. I'll pick you up tomorrow night." Was I supposed to believe him? That he was doing all this because he liked me, and not because he was preparing to break up with me? 05 The next day, Cole picked me up as promised. As soon as we arrived at the venue, his phone rang. He stared at the string of numbers on the screen for a long time before letting go of my hand: "Go on inside first. I need to take this call." For a man like him to actually hesitate like that... I said okay. After walking inside, I found a random spot to sit down. Not long after, some guys came in from outside. "It's freezing out there. Who is Cole on the phone with?" "Who else? Chloe. I caught the end of it—sounds like she's moving back in a few days." "Seriously? Cole must be absolutely thrilled." When a story of people waiting years for each other finally gets a happy ending, everyone is happy for them, regardless of who it is. Someone finally sighed: "After all this time, the person by Cole's side is still Chloe." It's just that in moments like this, when everyone is reminiscing about the past and getting emotional about their deep connection, it made me—the current, official girlfriend—feel incredibly superfluous. Like an outsider. When Cole came inside, they had stopped talking about it. He kept his lips pressed in a tight line, his expression dark, hiding a subtle trace of irritation. But when he saw me, he masked those emotions. He walked over, squeezed my hand, and smiled: "Having fun? You're going to help me cut the cake later." I said okay. After cutting the cake, I would initiate the breakup. Keep it dignified and complete. After this, we truly wouldn't see each other again. 06 In the end, I didn't get to cut the cake with him. Because not long after he said that, someone from outside brought in a gift. It was sent by Chloe. It was an extremely expensive luxury watch. The exact brand Cole always wore. Ironically, my gift was also a watch. But I couldn't afford that brand; I had bought the best one I could within my budget. Cole had only glanced at the one I gave him before having someone put it away. But the one from Chloe, he stared at it for a long time. So long that the knuckles of his hand gripping the watch strap turned white. His gaze was deep and complex. Finally, he lifted his hand and put the watch on. Someone took a picture and sent it to their group chat, saying that "Little Chloe" had great taste, and it was no wonder Cole hadn't been able to forget her after all these years. I wasn't originally supposed to see this, but a girl sitting next to me—Cole's cousin—was probably too excited and didn't check who was sitting next to her. She grabbed my arm, squealed, and shoved her phone in my face. "Look, they're so perfect together." On the screen, Chloe had replied: [As long as he likes it. You guys keep an eye on him for me, don't let him drink too much.] And then people started cheering and clapping. I was pushed to the very back of the crowd. I clapped along with them. At the very bottom of the gift box, there was a card. The handwriting was elegant: [Though we are far apart, our hearts know each other. The distance between us means nothing.] Cole froze slightly, his hand gripping the card going stiff. Then, for some reason, as if he remembered something, his expression suddenly turned frantic. He looked up, scanning the room, until his gaze finally locked onto me through the crowd. I gave him a calm smile and mouthed: "Happy Birthday." Only then did he seem to let out a sigh of relief, but he didn't ask me to cut the cake with him anymore. He had a lot of friends, and they partied hard. It didn't take long for him to get completely wasted. No one was paying attention to me, so I just watched from the sidelines. When it was over, his friends helped him upstairs. I didn't follow them. I decided to just leave. A breakup didn't necessarily have to be done face-to-face. As I was heading for the door, one of his close friends chased after me. He looked around until he found me, then shoved a hotel key card into my hand. He spoke hurriedly: "Cole is waiting for you in the penthouse suite. Go up and keep him company." I knew this guy. His name was Julian. He was Cole's best friend, and out of all the guys in his circle, he was the one I was most familiar with. But honestly, he looked down on me too. He had always firmly believed that I was no different from Cole's past girlfriends—just a fling that wouldn't last, someone he'd never truly care about. The real love of his life was coming back. What good was a cheap knockoff? 07 I didn't take the key card. Over the loud music, I spoke: "Tell him, whatever was between us... it ends right here." Julian looked shocked, like he hadn't heard me clearly. The hand holding the key card twitched: "What did you say?" I patiently repeated it, word for word. Julian frowned, staring at me for a moment: "Are you serious? You know how he operates. Once it's over, there's no taking it back." He never got back together with an ex. Except for Chloe. Because he was always waiting for her. I nodded, my voice firm: "I know." He pressed his lips together, looking at me: "No, but... you guys were doing so well, why suddenly..." He stopped halfway through his sentence, as if he suddenly realized something. He didn't ask any further questions. He just nodded: "Alright, fine. You can go. But don't forget to get all your stuff out of his apartment. "It wouldn't be good if Chlo... if someone saw it." I laughed softly: "Okay." I moved quickly. That very night, I packed up everything I had left at his place and took it with me. He had given me a lot of things. I didn't take any of it. I also left the two transfer deeds right where I found them, untouched. Since I had decided to break up, taking that stuff would only be emotional baggage, a constant reminder of what I had lost. After I got back to campus, I didn't think about anything. I just went to sleep. I slept for a long time. When I woke up, I checked my phone. I saw a message from Cole. Just one. It was sent at 10 PM last night. I was probably talking to Julian right around that time, and then rushing to pack my things, so I hadn't checked my phone. He said: [Come upstairs.] 08 I checked the time. It was already 2 PM. I hadn't replied for that long, and I hadn't gone to see him. If this had happened before last night, knowing Cole's temper, he definitely would have called me or come looking for me himself. But right now, absolutely nothing had happened. It seemed Julian had already delivered my message. A man like him, who seemed so warm and affectionate on the surface, was actually completely emotionally detached at his core. Since I had initiated the breakup, and it was exactly what he wanted anyway, he naturally had no objections. He wouldn't say anything more, let alone try to convince me to stay. My life returned to exactly how it was before I met Cole. I received a call from my mom. I was living alone in the city, and she worried about me constantly. Every few days, she'd try to set me up on a blind date. She just wanted me to find someone good to settle down with. After hanging up, she sent me a few phone numbers. [Make sure you add them. If you find someone you click with, give it a try.] I said I would, but I still didn't add them. My roommate sighed and tried to advise me: "Why do this to yourself? A guy like Cole is probably going to have a new girlfriend by next week. You need to move on with your own life, don't you?" I said it wasn't because of him. I just felt that rebounding immediately into a new relationship because the last one didn't work out was irresponsible to myself. I wouldn't always meet the wrong people. I would get married eventually. I would find someone I truly loved, who loved me back. But I thought... just not right now. When I was eighteen and just starting grad school, the thought of meeting someone new felt impossible. But now, it seemed so easy. After the breakup, I thought Cole and I would never see each other again. But coincidence is a funny thing. I was out shopping with a friend, and as we walked out of the mall, I ran into Cole and another guy. He was dressed very formally, like he had just come from a corporate event—sharp suit, radiating that faint cedarwood cologne scent. It was a different brand than the one he used to wear. The moment our eyes met, he smiled calmly at me, gave a slight nod, and then looked away, continuing his conversation with the guy next to him. I suddenly felt a wave of relief wash over me. So this is what an amicable breakup looks like. He treats me the exact same way he treats everyone else. No fighting, no accusations, no lingering resentment. When we meet, we're still polite acquaintances. We just walked past each other. But as I reached the crosswalk on the other side of the street, I suddenly got a phone call. It was from Cole. I was wearing a heavy trench coat. I adjusted the scarf around my neck against the biting wind, and declined the call. But less than two minutes later, he called again. I didn't answer, and he just kept calling. Finally, I answered and said: "Mr. Sterling." There was silence on the other end for a long time. Just as I was about to hang up, I heard him say: "Look up." 09 Across the street, I looked at the man standing there. I couldn't see his face clearly, nor could I tell what expression he was wearing at that exact moment. He had his hands in his pockets, looking back at me. I asked: "What do you want to say?" His voice was a little raspy. After a long pause, he spoke: "Why?" I thought for a second, then replied: "Why did I break up with you?" He gave a soft "mhm." I felt a little baffled. A man as smart as him, who saw things so clearly... his friends all understood it perfectly. How could he possibly be asking 'why'? I didn't really want to get into it with him, so I gave a generic excuse: "My family wants me to get married, and they're pressuring me a lot." His voice faltered slightly. A few seconds later, he asked: "Just because of that?" I sighed: "Yeah." He seemed to be contemplating something. After a moment, he spoke again: "I could marry you..." I cut him off, too exhausted to keep doing this: "I already have someone I'm planning to marry. "I heard your first love is moving back. Congratulations." He went silent. I heard the click of a lighter on his end. After a moment, he let out a short laugh: "Yeah." Then, he asked another question, as if just trying to fill the silence: "All the things I gave you... you didn't take any of them. Did you not like them? Tell me what you like, and I'll have someone send you something else." I sighed: "There's no need. "We shouldn't contact each other anymore. Let's just leave things on a good note. "Goodbye." With that, I hung up the phone. I didn't look at him again; I just turned and walked away. On the way home, I blocked his number and all his social media accounts. 10 That afternoon, a group of us from my program went out to dinner with our advisor. Halfway through the meal, he suddenly took a phone call: "I need to step out and grab someone. He's technically your senior. He just got back from overseas, and he happened to be having dinner nearby." A few minutes later, the door to the private dining room was pushed open. I looked up and saw the man standing in the doorway. He stood tall, exuding an air of effortless elegance. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up halfway as he greeted us. The people next to me started whispering immediately: "Oh my god, it's Ethan. I can't believe he's back in the states." "I heard he's incredibly brilliant. He's made a huge name for himself internationally at such a young age, won a ton of awards. He's the professor's star pupil." "Never mind all that, he is so handsome." The atmosphere in the room was great. I smiled along with everyone else. For some reason, he looked a little familiar. Not long after he left, my phone vibrated on the table. The screen lit up with a WhatsApp message. Ethan: [Don't remember me?] It was weird, I hadn't even saved his contact info, but I remembered instantly. Back then, right after I started grad school, I went to a concert with a friend. When it ended, we were walking out together but got separated by the massive crowd. I was rushing to find her, turned around too fast, crashed into someone, and sprained my ankle. The guy helped me up, told me in a deep voice not to move, and immediately took me to the emergency room, even covering my medical bills. I felt terrible. It was entirely my fault, yet I had made a stranger spend hours dealing with my mess. So, when we left the hospital, I asked for his contact information. After Venmoing him the money, I blurted out: "There sure are a lot of good Samaritans in this city. And they're all really good-looking." He asked: "Oh? Have you met other good Samaritans?" I said: "Yeah, but I never saw him again after that." The man thought for a moment: "I know a lot of people. Maybe I can help you find him." But I thought about it for a long time and didn't even know how to describe Cole. In the end, I decided against it. He smiled, his demeanor calm, intellectual, and reserved: "Alright then. I hope the next time we meet, you'll have found what you're looking for." I chatted with Ethan on WhatsApp for a bit. As we were wrapping up the conversation, I thought for a moment and asked him: [Are you free tonight? I'd love to buy you dinner, to say thank you.] He said he was. We quickly settled on a time and a restaurant.
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