Spring Sunshine After Leaving Chapter 1

At a college reunion, my boyfriend, Rhys, called me a worthless idiot in front of all our friends. My best friend, Zoe, couldn't take it anymore and pulled me aside.

"Look, Ava," she said, her voice low and urgent, "Everyone in our friend group, since we were kids, has thought Rhys treats you like crap. Why are you still so desperate to cling to him?"

Huh? Is that really how they all saw us?

A torrent of comments flooded my mind, a phantom stream only I could see.

【Don't listen to them, Ava! He's just all bark and no bite. He's totally, completely in love with you!】

【Classic tsundere. He'll regret losing his temper in a second, but he's too proud to apologize. He's probably curled up in a corner somewhere, hating himself right now.】

Zoe pressed on, her words tumbling out in a rush. "He painted a portrait for that protégée he's known for three months. He takes shots for her at parties. He even knows her damn period schedule, the difference between daytime and overnight pads..."

Her eyes locked on mine. "And you? You drove thirty miles through a storm to get him the wrong kind of paintbrush, and this is how he treats you?"

In that moment, I finally ignored the screen.

And I was certain. Rhys didn't love me.

Returning home, I found Rhys waiting, his eyes red-rimmed. The moment I walked in, he hurled the paintbrush at my face, his voice a raw mix of anger and hurt.

"Are you blind? You can't even tell the difference between a long-handled and a short-handled brush? Are you good for anything besides causing trouble?"

He spat the words out. "You're pathetic, Ava."

The hard edge of the brush split the skin on my forehead. A drop of blood trickled down, and when I touched it, my hand came away stained crimson.

Rhys froze. He let out a sharp, cold huff and turned away, his back rigid as he fumbled through the medicine cabinet.

Watching his frantic movements, my heart gave a familiar, foolish flutter.

【Aww, he's definitely panicking inside. The genius of the art world, helpless against his clumsy girl. I'm shipping this so hard.】

【See? He was mad, but the second he saw her hurt, he softened. It’s so cute.】

But the fragile moment was shattered by the ringing of his phone.

It was his protégée, Faye. He dropped the first-aid kit without a second thought and grabbed his paint case.

"Don't worry, I'm bringing the pigments over right now," he said into the phone, his voice suddenly gentle. "You'll definitely make it for the competition tomorrow."

Before leaving, he tossed a cup of instant noodles onto the counter without looking at me. "Here. Eat this and go to bed. Don't wait up."

I stared down at the cup. The noodles were a swollen, sticky mess, a few sad, rehydrated carrot bits dotting the congealed surface.

I hadn't eaten all day, my stomach aching with hunger after the long drive to that century-old art supply store thirty miles away, but the sight of the noodles turned it.

"I'm not hungry. You should go."

Rhys’s brow furrowed into a deep line. His voice rose, sharp with frustration. "Now you're playing the victim? Ava, are you a child? Can't you just make my life easy for once?"

【I can't with this heroine. She's supposed to be the one saving him, but all she does is create drama. Does she have any idea what's actually important?】

【Seriously. Thank God he's patient enough to deal with her tantrums. This is getting painful to watch.】

I ignored the swirling text.

I watched him smooth down his clothes and hurry out the door, his figure shrinking into a small black dot before disappearing at the end of the street.

On the easel was an unfinished painting.

I used to be the subject. But with Faye's birthday approaching, he had hastily painted her over my half-finished form.

The cut on my forehead throbbed.

But I didn't bother to clean it. I let the blood blur my vision, and then I picked up the brush I’d driven thirty miles for.

And snapped it in two.