He called me Selina so softly, like a feather settling into a wine glass. That night, we drank too much. The lights were dim, our hearts raced too fast. He said he loved me, and I kissed him with a smile. We were both drunk, yet utterly清醒—clear-headed as we fell, clear-headed as we crossed the line, turning a forbidden thing into a dream. Before dawn broke, the phone rang. It was my father. "If you keep him, tomorrow his name will appear on every hush-money list there is." "I'll make sure he can't land a role, can't join a production—not even as an extra without begging for scraps." "Do you want him alive like a dog? Or would you rather—he not live at all?" I stood on the balcony, watching him sleep in bed. His suit hung over the chair, tie loose—a hero without a home. I didn’t speak. Just replied, “I understand.” Then I left. No note, no deleted messages, no looking back. As if I’d never loved him at all. Five years later, at a Paris Fashion Week gala. Crystal chandeliers refracted light through towers of champagne flutes. I wore couture, smiled politely, exchanged pleasantries—until someone tapped my shoulder. "Hey, isn't that your ex-boyfriend? Jacob Chen—the one in sunglasses now." I turned. There he stood before me, dressed in black, his features sharper, colder than I remembered. The sunglasses hid his eyes, but not the scar along his brow—the one he got shielding me from a journalist’s thrown glass. He didn’t look at me. Just raised his glass, nodding to others around: “Long time no see.” An old friend chimed in cheerfully, “Selina almost married him! Such a shame they broke up out of nowhere… what a waste.” The air froze for a heartbeat. Jacob finally lifted his gaze. Behind those dark lenses, his eyes burned—like a single spark leaping from cold, dead ashes. I didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Just whispered, “No, not a waste.” “What’s truly tragic is the man who was willing to destroy his own future for me—and I never even said thank you.” His fingers trembled slightly. The glass paused mid-air. Lights flickered. Music faded. No one knows that after that night, he vanished from the industry for three years, surviving on odd jobs. No one knows that every year on my birthday, I receive a bouquet of white roses—never signed. No one knows this “chance encounter” today—I’ve waited five long years for it. And him— Does he still hate me? Does he still love me? I don’t know. I only know this time, I won’t run. Selina (fashion heir) and Noah (poor athlete) loved deeply in high school, defying her father David. Manipulated by Sophia (school board’s daughter) and David, Selina thought she was Sophia’s replacement, leaving abroad abruptly. Years later, at a Las Vegas party: Noah’s a top rugby star; bankrupt Selina is humiliated by him. Drunk, she wakes married to Noah. They pretend to be a loving couple for their careers.