THE MISSING EX-BOYFRIEND AND THE SWEET REVENGE

On Christmas that year, Arthur and I walked hand in hand down a crowded London street.

He suddenly stopped, pointing toward a small coffee shop on the corner. “That’s where I first saw you.”

It was the café I’d worked part-time at back in my first year of university.

“That day I was exhausted and stopped in to sit for a while. You brought me over a cup of warm water.”

Thinking back on it, a soft, gentle amusement touched the corner of Arthur’s eyes. “You even told me it was fine if I didn’t buy any coffee, that the owner was out and I should just relax and rest.”

I laughed, touching my nose in embarrassment. “I remember that — back then I actually thought you were too poor to afford a cup of coffee, who knew this rich young master would end up buying out the whole shop’s stock later…”

Arthur laughed loudly. “After that, you even fed the stray cats outside with cookies. That image has stayed with me all the way until now.”

The only shame was, by the time he finally went back to that café intending to get to know me, I’d already quit long before.

After going round and round in circles, he’d finally managed to track me down again. But as luck would have it, by then I’d already become Julian’s girlfriend.

That day, Arthur hadn’t said a word. He’d simply bowed his head, his eyes red-rimmed and thoroughly alone.

For two years after that, he’d quietly watched from the sidelines as I clung to and doted on Julian. But the most painful part hadn’t been seeing me with someone else — it had been watching Julian treat me like garbage, when to him, I’d always been a treasure beyond price.

He’d been torn between morality and feeling, right up until Julian himself had personally delivered the opportunity straight to his door.

Arthur had thought to himself then: even if the world called him a lowlife for it, he was going to take this gamble no matter what.

I couldn’t help but sigh in admiration. “Arthur, with this kind of resolve, you’d succeed at anything you set your mind to.”

“Obviously.”

He looked me straight in the eye, entirely serious. “Which is why… take me with you when you go study abroad, won’t you?”

I blinked, startled. “How did you know…”

The large sum of money I’d extracted from the Julian family had, in fact, been meant to fund my plans for studying abroad. I wanted to broaden my knowledge, to step out into a wider world beyond Europe.

The moment I received the money, I’d emailed a professor I’d long admired at a prestigious university in Paris, requesting a scholarship. As it turned out, the professor was deeply impressed by my well-rounded record — all those years balancing part-time work with active social engagement. They had a strong preference for students with real, hands-on grit like that.

The professor had agreed to take me on, waiting only for the start of the next academic term.

“I’m sorry, it’s not that I meant to hide it from you, I just didn’t know how to bring it up…”

“Evelyn, in front of me, you never have to hold anything back or worry about how it’ll sound.” Arthur bent down and pressed an earnest kiss to the back of my hand.

“I know Paris well, I’ve traveled there constantly before, booking flights is nothing to me. If you don’t mind, I’d be more than happy to be your fellow student at the same school.”

My eyes lit up. “Really?”

“You’ve already tasted my cooking, haven’t you? Surely you’re not still worried I won’t take good care of you?”

“No, no, no, I’m just worried about taking up your time…”

Arthur shook his head. “My parents happen to be thinking about handing over the France division of the business to me to manage.”

“Then it’s settled!”

“Evelyn, would you like to meet my parents sometime?”

“Isn’t it a bit early for that?”

Just thinking back to the two-faced way Julian’s parents had once behaved made my heart waver a little.

Arthur, understanding my hesitation, gently ruffled my hair. “I’ve already told my parents about you a long time ago, they both adore you already. You like seafood soup, and my mum, worried I wouldn’t cook it well enough, personally called to walk me through the recipe step by step…”

We kept on chatting, easily, about all the small, ordinary things of everyday life.

Hand in hand, we walked together through the first snowfall of that year, in a glittering, magnificent London.

Nine months later.

Arthur and I boarded a flight to Paris together, side by side, to study abroad.

My parents and Arthur’s parents both came to see us off at the airport. Arthur’s father instructed his son until his voice went hoarse: “Once you’re over there, take good care of Evelyn, hear me? Whatever she wants to eat, cook it for her, and if you two run short on money, just tell me!”

The Arthur family was, indeed, generous beyond measure. Arthur’s mother fussed over every detail too: “Have you packed everything you need? Evelyn, dear, if this boy Arthur ever dares to bully you, just tell us, and I’ll fly straight over to France to sort him out! Just relax and focus on your studies, alright?”

“Thank you both so much.”

“Mum, Dad, we’re heading off now…”

The weather that day was clear and bright, perfect for a long flight. I wanted to reach toward a wider, more open future ahead.

The future was waiting up ahead.

The one I loved would always be right beside me.

Everything, at last, fit together perfectly.

May we never again be bound by the way others choose to look at us.

Being weak, or crying easily — none of that matters at all.

As long as the will inside stays strong, sooner or later, both of us will shine, each in our own way.