Broken Love: His Final Goodbye

I rarely attended the event Florence organized.

Her close friends all resented me, and none of them bothered to hide their dislike.

Today’s humiliation wasn’t the first I had endured.

Each time, Timothy led the chorus of ridicule.

They rejected me simply because they believed I was unworthy of Florence.

Florence and Michael had grown up together, surrounded by the same circle of people.

Michael had always been full of energy and the heir to a wealthy family, excelling in every aspect of life.

By comparison, I was a hearing-impaired student who had only managed to attend university through scholarships and grants.

Without my hearing aid, even daily conversations became a struggle.

Florence came from a similarly prominent family, and with her extraordinary appearance, she had always been treated like the center of the universe.

People like them stood out wherever they went, dazzling the crowd.

Everyone assumed that this golden couple would eventually enjoy a fairy-tale ending.

But fate played a cruel joke on them.

The Higgins suffered a major catastrophe, and the Higgins Corp. teetered on the brink of bankruptcy.

Michael had resolutely chosen to leave then.

The debt collectors who came knocking were a nightmare not just for Florence, but for me as well.

Once, Florence was beaten until her body was covered in bruises.

She had dragged herself to the convenience store and begged me for help.

That night, I wasn’t supposed to be on shift, but I had swapped with a colleague, and if I hadn’t, I shuddered to think what might have happened to her.

I hid Florence in the storage room at the back of the store.

The collectors followed the trail of blood into the shop.

They were tall, muscular men, each of them strong enough to take me three at a time.

When they realized I was keeping her safe, they clenched their fists and threatened me.

I removed my hearing aid, straightened my spine, and faced them without flinching.

At the same time, my fingers pressed the silent alarm on the phone.

Fearful of trouble, they left quickly when they heard the wail of police sirens.

Only once I confirmed it was safe did I check on Florence, trembling from the adrenaline.

She had lost so much blood that she had already slipped into unconsciousness.

After handing over my shift to a colleague, I rushed her to the hospital and emptied my wallet to pay the medical fees.

When she finally opened her eyes, she looked at me in confusion and asked who I was.

I understood.

She had lost her memory from the beating.

I would never forget that moment when everyone laughed at me for being deaf.

They had snatched my hearing aid to play with it as I desperately tried to grab it back.

It was Florence who stepped forward, scolding those who bullied me, and even retrieved my hearing aid for me.

For the next three months, I cared for her meticulously.

Her view of me gradually shifted from unfamiliarity to dependence.

In the days that followed, I helped Florence run errands for the company and negotiate business deals.

For many nights, I drank myself to death at business events, collapsing on the roadside and being rushed to the hospital by kind strangers.

The doctors warned that if I continued like that, I wouldn’t survive.

Yet when I met Florence’s gaze, I felt I could endure a little longer.

Eventually, Higgins Corporation was revived thanks to several projects I had secured.

Florence threw herself into my arms, brimming with excitement.

“Once my company is completely stable, we’ll hold the grandest wedding ever.”

Then she handed me a bouquet of sunflowers.

But I didn’t like flowers.

Sunflowers belonged to Michael; everyone always said he was like the sun.

Seven years passed, and Higgins Corporation regained its position among the top three companies in the city.

As our wedding drew nearer, Michael came back.