“Daniel, you don’t actually think I would ever marry you, do you?”
I inhaled deeply, fixing my gaze on her.
“So, from what you’re saying, you plan to break off our engagement?”
She tilted her head back and burst into laughter.
“Break up? Were we ever really together?”
“I don’t even consider you a friend, so what breakup is there to talk about? Stop dreaming.”
I had imagined that after rising to fame, Emily might deny our relationship. But I hadn’t expected her to be this ruthless.
The night before I left for the U.S., she had sworn that once I came back, we would marry.
Yet in just five years, she had turned her back so coldly.
It seemed the old saying was right— the prettier the woman, the more deceptive she could be.
During my years abroad working in research, I had barely slept three hours a night, often skipping meals.
All for the sake of finishing the project sooner, so I could return and fulfill our promise.
But in the end, all I got was her dismissive, “I don’t even consider you a friend.”
What Emily forgot was this:
No matter how many awards an actress wins, at the end of the day, she’s still just a performer.
I don’t deny that celebrities have value.