We're Just Classmates, Aren't We?

"I heard you were being discharged today, so I got you a little gift. If you don't like it... or if there's anything else you need, I'll do my best to help you."

So, the cake was from someone else. I apologized to the girl and explained the misunderstanding.

Inside, I laughed bitterly at myself. This time, Jenna and I were truly done.

When I reached the entrance to our apartment complex, I saw Jenna. She wore something sexy and trendy, her face done up with the heavy makeup she used to hate.

Her head was down as she scrolled through her phone, texting someone. She was laughing at whatever was on her screen, looking happier than I'd seen her in months.

I stood there, unmoving. She was so absorbed in her phone that she walked right past me without noticing.

I followed behind her like that until we got into the elevator. Then I called her name in an even tone.

Her head snapped up, surprise flickering in her eyes. "You're back from the hospital?"

She immediately shoved her phone into her bag, as if afraid I might see something. Her reaction was almost funny.

"Let's break up."

I never thought I could say those words so calmly. She looked stunned for a second before apologizing.

Her apology meant nothing to me. I didn't want it. I packed my things without expression. We'd rented this place together, but now it could be hers.

My calm seemed to catch Jenna off guard. She watched me with something like curiosity in her eyes.

"Hunter, you don't seem very upset."

That was just like her.

In her mind, I should be begging her with red-rimmed eyes, pleading with her to stay. She was the one who betrayed us, the one who wanted to break up, but seeing me this composed made her resentful.

She expected me to grovel.

I picked up my suitcase and gave the room one last glance without saying anything. Of course, I was hurting. Eight years couldn't just disappear without pain. But I'd already done my grieving.

I'd already grieved when she ignored my calls and texts but commented under Felix's posts, when she threw away the lisianthus I gave her, when she changed her wallpaper to his photo.

When she called us classmates, while I pretended to have amnesia. When she went out to flirt with someone else instead of caring that her boyfriend was being discharged from the hospital.

Now, looking at each other, all that remained was disappointment settling into calm acceptance. There was nothing to regret. She'd changed, and we both knew we couldn't go back.

It was better to let go than suffer together.

Besides, we were both adults. We could part with dignity.

As I left, I asked her one question. "Jenna, I need to know. Did you fall for Felix because of who he is, or because he's Francine Foster's son?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze sharp and calculating in a way I couldn't remember seeing before. The innocent girl from my memories was long gone, replaced by a woman who valued status over loyalty.

"Hunter, you're not a kid anymore. You know how the world works. People move up when they can."

She admitted it without hesitation.

I let out a low laugh. "I hope you get everything you want."

As I dragged my suitcase into the elevator, she leaned against the doorframe. Her expression dimmed for a moment, but that shadow was nothing compared to her lack of regret.

She told me not to blame her. I said there was nothing to blame. We were adults. People made their own choices.

Besides, we wanted different things. There was no point in staying together.