Goodbye to Our Four Years Together Chapter 1

It was the fourth anniversary of our relationship. Heather Hilmann took her friend Liam Sherr and me went to have barbecue together.

The waiter recognized them and smiled, asking, "Still the usuals?"

Heather nodded.

It was a table by the window for two, and Liam sat on the inside.

The ribeye had slightly charred edges, and the dipping sauce had no onions.

She gave the first piece and the last piece to Liam.

I sat near the aisle, and there was not even a dipping‑sauce dish in front of me.

When they paid the bill, the waiter checked the membership records and reminded them with a smile, "Ms. Hilmann and Mr. Sherr, tonight was your 100th visit. You can take your customized grill pan home."

A line of words was engraved on the back of the grill pan: [Heather and Liam, Together Forever.]

The date was three years ago.

I then remembered that Heather had been at the hospital celebrating my birthday that day. It turned out that the two hours she had been away were not for a company meeting.

Liam touched the engraving and asked her with a smile, "After you and Ian Jeffrey get married, will we still have our monthly get‑together?"

* * *

Heather Hilmann straightened Liam Sherr's scarf for him and then turned to look at me. "Of course. Ian Jeffrey is not unreasonable. Besides, I have known Liam for ten years. If Ian really minds, he should be adapting to us."

On the way back, I sat in the back seat.

Heather adjusted the passenger seat to her preferred position, but the GPS automatically announced, "Heading to Liam's house."

I looked at my reflection in the car window and felt exhausted, so I lowered my head and bought a one‑way ticket to London in seven days.

Their ten years would continue, but our four years had come to an end.

Liam's apartment complex did not allow visitor vehicles to park overnight.

Heather did not look at the registration form. She entered his building and apartment number with practiced ease.

"Heather, the light in my living room seems broken." Liam did not get out of the car. He only frowned as he held the grill pan. "The property management said they can only fix it tomorrow."

He looked up at Heather, his tone edged with annoyance. "I cannot fix it by myself."

Heather unbuckled her seatbelt at once. "I will go upstairs and take a look."

As her hand touched the car door, she finally saw me in the rearview mirror. "Wait here for me. I will take ten minutes at most."

The car heater was on full blast.

Before getting out, she tossed her scarf onto my lap. "Do not roll down the window. The cold wind gives you a headache."

She always did this. She remembered every one of my habits, yet she also forgot me in the car and turned to take care of another man.

Every time I thought she cared about me, Liam reminded me that these thoughtful gestures were not only for me.

Ten minutes passed, the lights upstairs stayed off, and Heather had not come downstairs.

As I looked down to check my London flight, the driver's side door opened.

She did not explain her delay. She simply shoved a hot soy latte into my hand. "I bought this downstairs. No sugar."

The straw was already in place, and the temperature was my favorite 60 percent hot.

I stared at the ticket page on my phone and did not reach for it. The soy latte hung suspended in mid‑air.

Heather waited a few seconds before turning to look at me. "What are you doing so engrossed?"

I snapped out of my thoughts, turned off the screen, and took the cup. "Nothing, just work emails."

Heather narrowed her eyes slightly, her gaze falling on my right hand gripping the phone. "Liar."

She spoke softly, yet it silenced the car at once.

Heather reached toward the back, her palm up. "Give me the phone."

She knew me best. My right hand would rub the edge of the phone when I was nervous.

I stayed still. She was about to lean over when the passenger door opened.

Liam got back in, his nose red from the cold. "Heather, the power went out at my place."

He then looked at me. "Ian, can I stay at your place for the night?"

Liam patted my shoulder. Whenever he wanted to stay at my place, he waited for my nod as though my agreement was guaranteed.

Before I could speak, Heather had already turned on the chair warmer for him. "It is only a room, no need to ask him."

I gripped the soy latte tightly, and the paper cup dented at once.

It turned out I was the outsider who had no right to make decisions in our own home.

She then looked at me. "Give Liam the guest room next to the master bedroom. He is a light sleeper, so do not use the hairdryer tonight."

"That room is out of the question."

When we moved into our marital home, Heather had changed the locks on the guest room herself. All of my father's belongings were inside.

She had given me the only key and said no one was allowed in.

Heather's expression darkened. Her tone turned indifferent.

Liam hesitated. "Forget it, I will go to a hotel. Ian does not like others touching Mr. Jeffrey's things. I understand that."

The more understanding he was, the more heartless I seemed.

Heather started the car with a cold expression. "Liam is not just anyone."

After a two‑second pause, she looked at me through the rearview mirror. "Ian, do not force me to argue with you on our anniversary."