“Get out!” I screamed, grabbing a cushion from the sofa and hurling it at him. “Get out!”
Julian looked utterly taken aback. He had never seen me so hysterical. After a moment of stunned silence, he stormed out, taking the bag of cherries with him.
“Don’t need my leftovers, huh? Fine. Let’s see how long you can hold out,” he snapped as he left.
Not even ten minutes later, Averil posted another update.
“First day in the new place—this décor is so tacky. What kind of tasteless guy thought this up?”
The photograph showed his upstairs apartment. The so-called “tacky décor” was all my work.
Julian even replied to her post, “Yeah, it’s pretty bad. Let’s tear it down and redo it.”
I rubbed my sore eyes, my tears long dried.
A house could be redecorated. A partner could be replaced.
To him, I was nothing more than an old, discarded toy.
When yet another harassing phone call came through, I finally pulled out my SIM card and replaced it with the number I’d used during my overseas performances.
Back then, a prestigious international dance troupe had extended me an offer, but I had turned down the opportunity because I couldn’t bear to part with Julian.
Now, with my heart pounding, I nervously dialed the number that had contacted me back then. “Hello, is this Mr. Jason Yates?”
There was silence on the other end. If not for the faint sound of breathing, I would have thought the call had been disconnected.
Why wasn’t he speaking? Had he seen the trending news?
Clutching the phone tightly, my palms grew damp with sweat. “Mr. Yates, please listen to me. I didn’t do any of those things. I’ve tried to post a clarification, but my social media account has been taken over. Every time I create a new one, my post gets deleted within seconds. I…”
“Wait for me.”
A low, muffled male voice interrupted me. It sounded unexpectedly familiar but was completely different from the blond-haired Jason I remembered.
I froze. “You’re not Jason?”
“Wait for me,” the voice repeated before abruptly hanging up.
I stood there, bewildered, trying to make sense of what just happened. As I was still in a daze, a text message came through, “Taking off. Turning off my phone.”
A few seconds later, another message arrived, “Wait for me to return. I’ll take you away.”
