After hanging up the phone, he explained to me seriously, “Sabrina, Ellen may be in danger now. I have to go out. I swear, I really just treat Ellen as a sister. Don’t make trouble with me because of her.”
Without waiting for my answer, he hurried to the door.
The ointment was swept to the ground by his windbreaker and most of it was scattered.
I looked at the closed door and curled the corners of my lips.
In the past, every time he and Ellen had an out-of-line behavior, I couldn’t help but get jealous and angry. He always said that I was narrow-minded and unreasonable.
But Fred, don’t worry, from now on, I would never make trouble with you again.
Since that day, Fred had never come back
Ellen’s Instagram story had been updated frequently.
In and out of words, it was nothing more than showing off how much Fred loved her.
I silently put her on the blacklist.
Then I crossed out one date after another on the calendar on the wall.
Countdown to the thirteenth day.
I started to busy myself with writing a resignation report.
The team leader looked at the four characters “Go Home and Get Married” written on my reason for leaving.
She laughed and joked that she wanted to drink at my wedding with Fred and said that there was no need to resign if I got married.
Until I told her that I was not getting married to Fred.
She sighed and stopped asking me about my personal affairs.
I had been busy handing over work these days.
When the handover was almost done.
Suddenly I was free and I looked at the fifth day from the last on the calendar and was a little dazed.
I patted my cheeks and started to pack my luggage.
Fred and I had known each other for too long and there were photos of him and me everywhere in this house.
I tore off all the parts of the photos that belonged to me.
Then I took out a small wooden box from the innermost part of the closet.
There was a camera in it, which recorded several GB of videos and photos we took together over the years.
In addition to the camera, there were also the paper cranes he folded for me in high school.
The evening dress I wore when I performed on stage in college.
The hundreds of love letters he wrote to me...
Looking at these, I still felt depressed and a little uncomfortable.
After all, Fred really cared about me in the past.
He was reluctant to miss every minute and every second of my life.