"It's Not You, It's Me."
Zhao Mey's right eye twitched as she stared
at Lu Chen. Her fingers itched with indecision—should she laugh in his face or
deliver a well-earned throat punch?
The tears shimmering in his eyes made her jaw tighten. Seriously? The nerve of this man. Not only was he breaking up
with her, but he had the audacity to use the most overused breakup line in the history of over used break up lines.
And he was the one crying.
Zhao Mey never imagined her kind, soft-spokenboyfriend would betray her with another woman. Never in her wildest dreams did she think the man who had chased her relentlessly for two years, only to date
her for another two, would end up in someone else's arms.
Was this what she got for settling?
She had traded in her wild, carefree lifestyle for this? She had turned her world upside down, made compromises, even abandoned her habit of cycling through men like shoes just to make this relationship work. And for what?
Her lips curled into a wry smile. She really
ought to give herself a good slap. At thirty-four, she should've known better. She'd given up her no-strings-attached, no-compromises lifestyle for a gentle,
feminine-looking man who'd sworn her eternal love. A mistake, clearly.
But it wasn't entirely her fault, now, was it? Part of her reasoning—she hated admitting it—was her grandmother. Her sweet, old-fashioned grandmother, who believed a woman's place was in the home, serving her family like some relic from the 1950s. After all, her grandmother had married her grandfather at seventeen and spent the next sixty years as a dutiful wife.
Zhao Mey, on the other hand, had shattered
all those ideals. She'd built a life she loved—modern, independent, and wonderfully chaotic. Yet, her grandmother never failed to remind her of the one glaring "flaw" in her life: her spinster status.
"Thirty-four and still unmarried," her grandmother had grumbled. "You'll scare all the men away with your lazy ways."
To be fair, her grandmother wasn't completely wrong. Zhao Mey was lazy. Gloriously, unapologetically lazy. She couldn't be bothered to answer her own phone, even when it was lying right next to her.
Still, she had dreams—dreams that one day, if a man wanted to be part of her life, he'd be her willing slave and cater to her every whim. Lu Chen had seemed like the perfect candidate. For two whole years, he'd pursued her tirelessly, showering her with attention and promises.
Eventually, she caved. She let him in. She even—shocking—remembered his BIRTHDAY. If that didn't scream effort, she didn't know what did.
And now, here he was, tearing up at the crap coming out of his mouth.
Zhao Mey's gaze zeroed in on his lips. Why
is he still talking? She didn't care how sorry he was or how he'd "never meant to hurt her." All she wanted now was her afternoon nap and to finish her latest novel.
Without another word, she slammed the
apartment door in his face, locking it with a satisfying click. Thank the heavens they'd never moved in together. The toothbrush and spare clothes he'd left behind? Those were tomorrow's trash. Yes, she was petty like that.
Zhao Mey drew a deep, calming breath and
headed straight for the bathroom. A long soak in her favourite lavender-and-honey-scented bubble bath awaited. Sure, she'd just been dumped, but that was no excuse to wallow in self-pity. A girl had to maintain her glow, after all.
Later, freshly scrubbed and smelling divine,
she crawled into bed for her afternoon nap. Some might argue that at thirty-four, she ought to have more pressing things to do. But not Zhao Mey. She was proud of her ability to nap in the middle of the day, guilt-free, while others her age slogged away at work.
It was her greatest joy in life—and her
grandmother's eternal frustration.