A Thing of the Past

Running away? A joke? Ha. Even now, Rodney still thought that I was just throwing a tantrum.

I didn't want to argue anymore, so I just grabbed my suitcase and headed for the door.

He stepped forward, reaching to grab my hand, but I instinctively sidestepped him. Maybe my avoidance had been too obvious, but Rodney flew into a rage and kicked the coffee table.

I turned around and walked off, not thinking about looking back. However, just as I opened the door, I heard Rodney shout behind me in frustration.

"I hope you find someone better than me!"

I felt as if there was a rough stone lodged in my throat, causing me sharp pain.

"You're the one who wanted someone better than me, Rodney. I'm only fulfilling your wish right now," I murmured.

…

Before I left Alluel, Cynthia organized a farewell gathering.

After all, everyone knew that I would likely not return to Alluel again after leaving.

Just as we wrapped up our goodbyes, I suddenly ran into Jessica, her arm looped through Rodney's.

For the first time, I looked at her properly. She was young and full of life, and when she smiled, she had dimples on both cheeks. She had a great, curvy figure, and her skin was fair—especially contrasted against her long, black hair.

She was definitely the type people would've had a crush on back in school.

From the looks of things, they had just finished dinner, too. Her cheeks were flushed, and her whole body was leaning against Rodney's.

I grabbed my phone and snapped a photo before sending it off.

When Jessica saw me, she stiffened for a second, then tightened her grip on Rodney's arm.

Likely sensing her sudden change in behavior, Rodney followed her gaze and spotted me, then stormed over.

"Ivana, what is going on with you exactly? You don't answer your calls or your messages. Do you know how worried I've been about you?"

Worried? I let out a soft scoff.

I might've believed that he truly was worried about me—if not for the bite mark on his ear.

"Rodney, let's break up."

Finally, I said it. I was choosing to let go.

Truthfully, I should've said it long ago.

But… he was Rodney Luther, after all.

He was the one who bought me roasted candied nuts from two streets away. The one who brought me heating pads and chocolate when I got period cramps. And the one who would tell me, "It's on the way," even when the destination was on the other side of town.

So, I thought I'd just wait for a little longer. Maybe he'd turn around and come back to me.

But all that patience and indulgence were only met with unrestrained cruelty, time and time again.

Perhaps I looked especially resolute this time, and Rodney somehow felt as if something was slipping away from him. For once, guilt, panic, and helplessness flashed in his eyes.

"Ivana, you're about to become my wife in a month. So come home with me, okay?"

It was clear from his tone that he wanted me to stay.

Rodney came from a well-off family, and they had already arranged a marriage for him long ago. But Rodney, who usually played by the rules, defied his father.

His father called him a disgrace and had him get on his knees. Then he took out a cane.

But even when the cane had torn apart the skin on his back, Rodney still held his ground.

"I'm going to marry Ivana Fletcher."

The crack of the cane only got louder after that.

I had been held protectively in his arms back then as I cried and cried. I cried so much that I could barely catch my breath.

Through sobs, I choked out, "Rodney, I won't marry you anymore. I won't."

But he just looked me straight in the eyes before he leaned in and kissed me fiercely. Stubbornly, he held my hand as he kept repeating, "I'm going to marry Ivana."

Now, as I raised my head to look at him, I called out his name with absolute sincerity. For a moment, it was as if I could see the Rodney from back then—the one who had been adamant about marrying me.

"Rodney, I won't marry you anymore. I won't. Cancel the wedding. I don't care anymore."

When Jessica saw how lost and despondent Rodney looked, a flash of something cruel crossed her eyes.

She deliberately walked straight up to me so I could clearly see the red marks on her collarbone.

"Ivana, if you want to blame someone, then blame me. I saw your beautiful wedding dress, and it made me think of how small and pitiful my wedding had been. I didn't even have a wedding dress. That's why I begged Rod to try it on. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at him."

Wow. What a fake-ass vixen.

I smiled widely at her.

"Sure. But don't say it to me. All your pain and grievances—go tell it to your husband."

The words had just left my mouth when a man dressed in a suit walked straight toward us.

"Dad? What are you doing here?"